He glanced up. “Believe me, I should be glad to do anything in my power to help the boy, but this coming into Sussex is madness!”
“Well,” said Miss Thane reasonably, “he cannot be moved until his wound is in some sort healed, so we must make the best of it. Tell me, do you think his cousin Basil is indeed the real culprit?”
He was silent for a moment. At last he said: “I may be prejudiced against him. It sounds fantastic, but I would not for the world have him know of Ludovic’s whereabouts now.” He looked at her searchingly. “What is your part in this, Miss Thane?”
She laughed. “My dear sir, my part is that of Eustacie’s chaperon, of course. To tell you the truth, I have taken a liking to your romantic cousins, and I mean to see this adventure to a close.”
“You are very good, ma’am, but—”
“But you would do very much better without any females,” nodded Miss Thane.
“Yes,” said Sir Tristram bluntly. “I should!”
“I expect you would,” said Miss Thane, quite without rancour. “But if you imagine you can induce Eustacie to leave this place now that she has found her cousin Ludovic, you have a remarkably sanguine nature. And if you are bound to have Eustacie, you may just as well have me as well.”
“Certainly,” said Shield, “but do you—does your brother realize that this is an adventure that is likely to lead us all to Newgate?”
“I do,” she replied placidly. “I doubt whether my brother realizes anything beyond the facts of a cold in the head and a well-stocked cellar. If we do reach Newgate, perhaps you will be able to get us out again.”
“You are very intrepid!” he said, with a look of amusement.
“Sir,” said Miss Thane, “during the course of the past twelve hours my life seems to have become so full of smugglers, Excisemen, and wicked cousins that I now feel I can face anything. What in the world possessed the boy to take to smuggling, by-the-by?”
“God knows! You might as well ask what possessed Eustacie to leave the Court at midnight to become a governess. They should deal extremely together if ever they can be married.” He rose. “I must go back and do what I can to avert suspicion. Somehow or other we must find this panel Ludovic speaks of before he can thrust his head into a noose.”
Miss Thane gave a discreet cough. “Do you—er—place much dependence on the panel, Sir Tristram?”
“No, very little, but I place every dependence upon Ludovic’s breaking into the Dower House in search of it,” he replied frankly. “For the moment we have him tied by the heels, but that won’t be for long, if I know him. They are tough stock, the Lavenhams.” He walked to the table and picked up his hat and riding whip. “I’ll take my leave now. I fancy we have fobbed off the riding-officer, but there may be others. If you should want me, send Clem over to the Court with a message, and I’ll come.”
She nodded. “Meanwhile, is Ludovic in danger, do you think?”
“Not at Nye’s hands, but if information were lodged against him at Bow Street by anyone suspecting his presence here, yes, in great danger.”
“And at his cousin’s hands?”
He met her questioning look thoughtfully, and after a moment said: “I may be wrong, but I believe so. There is a good deal at stake.” He tapped his riding whip against his top-boot. “It all turns on the talisman ring,” he said seriously. “Whoever has that is the man who shot Plunkett. I must cultivate a more intimate acquaintance with the Beau.”
He took his leave of her and went out, calling for his horse to be brought round. Miss Thane saw him ride away, and went slowly back to her patient.
Had it been possible to have sent for a surgeon to attend Ludovic, cupping would certainly have been prescribed. Miss Thane was a little anxious lest serious fever should set in, but both Shield and the landlord maintained that Ludovic had a strong enough constitution to weather worse things than a mere wound in his shoulder, and after a couple of days she was bound to acknowledge that they were right. The wound began to heal just as it should, and the patient announced his intention of leaving his sickbed. This perilous resolve was frustrated by Shield, who, though he visited the Red Lion every day, omitted to bring with him the raiment he had promised to procure from Ludovic’s abandoned wardrobe at the Court.
While Ludovic lay in the back bedchamber, either playing piquet with his cousin or evolving plans for the recovery of his ring, Sir Hugh Thane continued to occupy one of the front rooms. His cold really had been a great deal worse on the morning of Shield’s first visit, and once having gained a hold on the unfortunate baronet, it ran the whole gamut of sore throat, thick head, watering eyes, loss of taste, and ended up with a cough on the chest which Sarah, with unwonted solicitude, declared to be bad enough to lead (if great care were not taken) to an inflammation of the lungs.
It was not, therefore, in the least difficult to persuade Sir Hugh to keep his room. His only complaint was that he was without his valet, this indispensable person having gone to London in advance of his master with the major part of the baggage and Sarah’s abigail. It took all Sarah’s ingenuity to think out enough plausible reasons for not summoning Satchell to his master’s sickbed. Satchell had been in Sir Hugh’s employment for some years, but Miss Thane did not feel that he could be trusted with the secret of Ludovic’s presence at the Red Lion. Luckily Clem proved himself a deft attendant, and beyond remarking two or three times a day that he wished he had Satchell with him, Sir Hugh made no complaint. He accepted Sarah’s story of the heiress fleeing from a distasteful marriage. It was doubtful whether the original tale of Ludovic’s misfortunes occupied any place in his erratic memory, but he did once ask his sister whether she had not mentioned having met a smuggler. She admitted it, but said that he had left the inn.
“Oh!” said Sir Hugh. “A pity. If you should see him again, you might let me know.”
What Sir Tristram Shield told Beau Lavenham the ladies did not know, but it brought him over to Hand Cross within two days. He came in his elegant chaise, a graceful affair slung on swan-neck perches, and upholstered with squabs of pale blue. He was ushered into the parlour, where Miss Thane and Eustacie were sitting, early one afternoon, and was greeted by his cousin with a baleful stare.
He had discarded his fur-lined cloak in the coffee-room, so that all the glory of his primrose pantaloons and lilac-striped coat burst upon Miss Thane without warning. He wore the fashionable short boot, and bunches of ribbons at the ends of his pantaloons; his cravat was monstrous, his coat collar very high at the back, and he carried a tall sugarloaf hat in his hand. He paused in the doorway and lifted his ornate quizzing-glass, smiling. “So here we have the little runaway!” he said. “My dear cousin, all my felicitations! Poor, poor Tristram!”
“I do not know why you have come here,” responded Eustacie, “but I do not at all wish to see you. It is my cousin, Sarah. This is my friend, Miss Thane, Basil.”
He bowed, a hand on his heart. “Ah yes, the—er—acquaintance of Paris days, I believe. What a singularly happy chance it was that brought you to this unlikely spot, ma’am!”
“Yes, was it not?” agreed Miss Thane cordially. “Though until my brother was took ill, I had really no notion of remaining here. But the opportunity of seeing my dear Eustacie again quite reconciled me to the necessity of putting up at this inn. Pray, will you not be seated?”
He thanked her, and took the chair she indicated, carefully setting his hat down upon the table. Looking at Eustacie with an amused glint in his eyes, he said: “So you have decided not to marry Tristram after all! I liked the notion of your spirited flight to the arms of your friend. But how dark you kept her, my dear cousin! Now if only you had confided with me, I would have conveyed you to her in my carriage, and you would have been spared a singularly uncomfortable ride through the night.”
“I preferred to go myself,” said Eustacie. “It was an adventure.”
He said: “It is a pity you dislike me so much, and trust me so little, for I am very much your servant.”
To Miss Thane’s surprise Eustacie smiled quite graciously, and answered: “I do not dislike you: that is quite absurd. It is merely that I think you wear a silly hat, and, besides, I wanted to have an adventure all by myself.”
He gave his soft laugh. “I wish you did not dislike my hat, but that can be remedied. Shall I wear an old- fashioned tricorne like Tristram, or do you favour the
“You would look very odd in a
“Yes, I am afraid you are right. Tell me, what do you mean to do with your life, Eustacie, now that you have given Tristram his
“I am going to stay in town with Miss Thane.”
