September 12, 1861. That was the night when Sir Percy Blakeney finally returned to his maker. He had grown to the ripe old age of ninety-six, virtually unheard of in those times, and had out-lasted virtually everyone around him. We always knew his almost superhuman strength would serve him well. Although it did mean that he had had to watch a good number of his dearest friends go before him.
Members of his League, my brave colleagues, went one by one and his acquaintances in society, but the worst blow was when his own wife, the woman he worshiped more than all the riches in the world, passed into the great beyond. I'm sure the only reason *I* lived so long was to keep Percy company in his declining years (As if he could ever decline!).
We all knew he was near the end. It had been slowly creeping up for months. After my own sweet Suzanne had gone, I had moved into Richmond with Percy. For a while, it was just like our bachelor days back in school. We needed each other even more then than we ever had on our escapades in France.
I arrived at the funeral with a huge lump in my throat. How was I supposed to give a eulogy for the best man to have ever breathed and, mor than that, my best friend and beloved leader, without breaking down into tears? A thought of Percy's bravery over the years steadied me and when the time came, I braced myself with a deep breath and stepped forward. I surveyed the stunned faces in the crowd. They still couldn't believe that English society would be without Sir Percy from then on. I knew exactly how they felt.
Percy, before his death, had put me in charge of his funeral and I had, wisely, decided on an intimate group that all knew of his best kept secret. So, as I spoke I didn't need to disguise my words and worry about betraying something that would have hurt a number of people, myself included. Of course, it really didn't make too much difference now that the Revolution was over and that most of our group was in their graves. Maybe it was time to tell the world . . . but it wasn't my place to decide.
"My dear friends, we have all lost a good friend and a trusted chief with the passing of Sir Percy Blakeney. Percy inspired us. He kept us going when nothing else could. One glance at all he took on and how he bore it with such grace and we would all be emboldened to last just as long as he.
"Some say he was a lover of sport and that's why he insisted on his trips across the Channel. You and I know him better than that. He never would have admitted it, but he couldn't bear to stand by while someone was suffering. That was his *real* motivation. We all know that he could have had fame beyond belief, had he so wished it. One well-placed word and all England would have groveled at his feet. But, that wasn't what he wanted. He didn't want the credit. But, when he *did* take it, he always gave it to us, his faithful followers. Even though it was always he who came up with our rescue plans and orchestrated them. We simply followed his orders.
"Percy was also a brilliant actor. We watched him, hundreds of times, don the mask of the fop when in company. Only one or two ever out the pieces together. No one suspected that this inane idiot was actually an ingenious and brilliant man who continually fooled the best and brightest of Revolutionary France.
"Sir Percy was a kind and loving family man and I'm sure Lady Elizabeth Blakeney has felt his death the most keenly. Take heart, gentle lady, for your father lives on in you and shall forever. The torch has been passed to you and we are all very proud of how smoothly you have stepped into his shoes."
All through this, eyes had grown moist and when Lady Blakeney met my eyes, it was as if two sapphires, of the best and purest cut, were gazing at me respectfully out of two seas of tears. never had her eyes looked more like Percy's than at that second.
"I believe it is up to you, Elizabeth, but perhaps now the world is ready for the knowledge of who their hero was . . . and will always be. May the memory of Sir Percy live on in all of us. Let us keep alive and well the courage and daring of the one and only Scarlet Pimpernel. He will forever be remembered as our friend and chief . . . Sir Percy Blakeney, bart."
~* The End *~