sometimes purchase our brandy from Joseph Nye?”
“We have very often done so, sir.”
“We will purchase some more,” said the Beau, polishing his eyeglass on his sleeve. “Attend to it, Gregg.”
“Yes, sir.”
“That is all,” said the Beau.
The valet bowed and walked towards the door. As he reached it the Beau said softly: “I should not like you to display any vulgar curiosity at the Red Lion, Gregg.”
“No, sir. You may rely on me.”
“Oh, I do, Gregg, I do!” said the Beau, and picking up the journal from the table, sat down with it in a winged armchair by the fire.
The valet lingered for a moment. “If I may venture to say something, sir?” he suggested meekly.
“By all means, Gregg.”
“The lady who accompanied Sir Tristram into this room, sir. I understand she was desirous of inspecting the panelling?”
The Beau raised his eyes from the journal. “Well?”
“Just so, sir. It would, of course, explain conduct which seemed to Thomson and myself a trifle odd. I beg pardon, I’m sure.”
“In what way odd?”
“Well, sir, it appeared to Thomson and myself that Sir Tristram and the lady were inspecting the woodwork very closely,” said the valet. “The lady went so far as to stand upon a chair to inspect the frieze, and Sir Tristram, when I entered the room, seemed to me (but I might be mistaken) to be sounding the lower panels.”
The Beau lowered the journal. “Did he?” he said slowly. “Did he, indeed? Well, well!”
Gregg bowed himself out. It was a few minutes before the Beau picked up his journal again. His eyes stared across the room at a certain portion of the wainscoting; and there was for once no trace of a smile upon his thin lips.
Meanwhile Miss Thane, seated beside Eustacie in the chaise, had nothing to report but failure. She said that her fingers were sore from pulling and pressing wooden bosses, and that her nervous system was shattered for ever. No fewer than three interruptions had occurred during the short time she and Sir Tristram had had at their disposal. First had come the housekeeper with a bowl of flowers to set upon the table, and a tongue only too ready to wag. She had hardly been got rid of when the door opened again, this time to admit the butler, who had come in to make up the fire. “And what he must have thought, I dare not imagine!” said Miss Thane. “I was standing upon a chair at that precise moment, trying to move a wooden pear well above my reach.”
Eustacie gave a giggle. “What did you do?”
“Most unfortunately,” said Miss Thane, “my back was turned to the door, and I had not heard it open. I am bound to confess, however, that your cousin Tristram showed great presence of mind, for he immediately told me to look closely at the carving, and to observe most particularly the top chamfer of the cross-rail.”
“One must admit that Tristram is not stupid,” said Eustacie fair-mindedly.
“No,” agreed Miss Thane, casting a glance out of the window at the straight figure riding beside the chaise, “not stupid, but (I am sorry to say) both autocratic and dictatorial. His remarks to me once the butler had left the room were quite unappreciative and not a little unfeeling, while his way of handing me down from the chair left much to be desired.”
“He does not like females,” explained Eustacie.
Miss Thane’s eyes returned to the contemplation of Sir Tristram’s stern profile. “Ah!” she said. “That would account for it, of course. Well, we did what we could to make my standing upon a chair seem a natural proceeding—but I doubt the butler thinks us a pair of lunatics—and being once more alone, and Sir Tristram having spoken his mind to me on the subject of female folly, we returned to our search. It affords me some satisfaction to reflect that it was Sir Tristram, and not I, who was engaged in sounding the panels when a most odiously soft- footed individual stole in to place a snuff-jar upon the desk. At least, it afforded me the opportunity to show that I, too, have some presence of mind. I begged your cousin to admire the spearhead finish.”
“I think that you are very clever!” said Eustacie approvingly. “I should not have known that there was a—a spearhead finish.”
“There wasn’t,” said Miss Thane. “In fact, the mere mention of a spearhead finish in connection with those panels was a solecism which caused a spasm to cross Sir Tristram’s features. When the snuff-bearer had taken himself off he was obliging enough to inform me that before he accompanied me on another such search he would give me a few simple lessons in what to look for in wood panelling of that particular kind. By that time I had undergone so many frights that my spirit was quite in abeyance, and I not only thanked him meekly, but I even acquiesced in his decision to abandon the quest. Yes, I know it was wretchedly weak of me,” she added, in answer to a look of reproach from Eustacie, “but to tell you the truth, I think the task is wellnigh hopeless. Ludovic must remember more precisely where the panel is.”
“But you know very well that he cannot!”
“Then he must go and look for it himself,” said Miss Thane firmly.
Eustacie was inclined to be indignant, but the chaise had by this time drawn up outside the Red Lion, and she was forced to postpone her recriminations until a more convenient occasion. Shield, dismounting lightly from his horse, himself opened the door and let down the steps for the ladies to descend. Having handed them out of the chaise, he gave his horse into the charge of one of the ostlers and followed them into the inn. Here they were met by Nye, who informed them in the voice of one who had done his best to avert disaster but failed, that they would find Ludovic in Sir Hugh Thane’s room.
“In my brother’s room?” exclaimed Miss Thane. “What in the world is he doing there?”
“He’s playing cards, ma’am,” replied Nye grimly.
“But how came he to go into my brother’s room at all?” demanded Miss Thane. “We left him in bed!”
“You did, ma’am, but you hadn’t been gone above five minutes before his lordship started ringing the bell for Clem. Nothing else would do for him but to get up and dress, and me not being by Clem helped him. That’s how it always was: what Mr Ludovic took it into his head to do, Clem would help him to, no matter what.”
Eustacie turned to her cousin. “You should not have brought his clothes!”
“Nonsense!” said Shield. “Ludovic must leave his bed sooner or later. He’ll take no hurt.”
“That is all very well,” said Miss Thane, “but even though he might get up, I can see no reason for him to go into Hugh’s room. I have a great value for Hugh, but I cannot feel that he is the man to keep a momentous secret. Nye, you should have intervened.”
Nye smiled somewhat wryly. “It’s plain you don’t know his lordship, ma’am. No sooner was he dressed than what must he do but walk out of his room just to see how his legs would carry him. While he was showing Clem how well he could manage, Sir Hugh (who’d been pulling his bell fit to break it, according to what he told me) put his head out of his room to shout for Clem. By what I can make out from Clem, Sir Hugh and Mr Ludovic got into conversation right away, Sir Hugh not seeming to be surprised at finding another gentleman in the house, and Mr Ludovic, of course, as friendly as you please, ‘Oh, are you Sir Hugh Thane?’ he says. ‘My name’s Lavenham—’ oh yes, ma’am, he came out with that quite brazen! That’s Mr Ludovic all over. ‘Well,’ says Sir Hugh, ‘I can’t say I call your face to mind at the moment, but if you know me I’m devilish glad of it, for I’ve had more than enough of my own company. Do you play piquet?’ Well, that was quite sufficient for Mr Ludovic, and before Clem rightly knew what was happening, he’d been sent off downstairs to fetch up a couple of packs of cards and a bottle of wine. By the time I was back in the house there was no doing anything, ma’am, for they was both in Sir Hugh’s room, as thick as thieves, as the saying is.”
The ladies looked at one another in consternation. “I had better go upstairs and see what is happening,” said Miss Thane resignedly.
It was, however, just as Nye had described. Lord Lavenham and Sir Hugh Thane, both attired in dressing- gowns, were seated on opposite sides of a small table drawn close to the fire in Sir Hugh’s bedchamber playing piquet. A glass of wine was at each gentleman’s elbow, and so absorbed were they in the game that neither paid the least heed to the opening of the door, or, in fact, became aware of Miss Thane’s presence until she stepped right up to the table. Sir Hugh glanced up then, and said in an abstracted voice: “Oh, there you are, Sally!” and turned his attention to the cards again.
