“Well, they may try and take me prisoner if they like,” said Ludovic. “It’ll go hard with them if they do.”
Miss Thane regarded him in some amusement. “Yes, Ludovic, but it will make everything very awkward if you are to leave a trail of corpses in your wake,” she pointed out. “I cannot help feeling that Sir Tristram is right. He is one of those disagreeable people who nearly always are.”
Ludovic thrust out his chin a little. “I’m going to take a look in that priest’s hole if I die for it!” he said.
“If you go, you’ll go alone, Ludovic,” said Sir Tristram.
Ludovic’s eyes flashed. “Ratting, eh? I’ll get Clem in your stead.”
“You may take it from me that Clem won’t go with you on this venture,” replied Sir Tristram.
“Oh, you’ve been working on him, have you? Damn you, Tristram, I must find the ring!”
“You won’t do it that way. It’s to run your head into a noose. You’ve a better hope than this slender chance of finding the ring in a priest’s hole.”
“What is it?” Ludovic said impatiently.
“Basil’s valet,” replied Shield. “He lodged the information against you. I judge him to be fairly deep in Basil’s confidence. How deep I don’t know, but I’m doing what I can to find out.”
“I dare say he is, but what’s the odds? Depend upon it, he’s paid to keep the Beau’s secrets. Slimy rogue,” Ludovic added gloomily.
“No doubt,” agreed Shield. “So I have set Kettering to work on him. If he knows anything, you may outbid Basil.”
“Who is Kettering?” interrupted Miss Thane. “I must have everything made clear.”
“Kettering is the head groom at the Court, and one of Ludovic’s adherents. His son works for the Beau, and he is on good terms with the servants at the Dower House. If he can put it into Gregg’s head that I am collecting evidence that will make things look ugly for Basil, we may find it quite an easy matter to induce the fellow to talk. Have patience, Ludovic!”
“Oh, you’re as cautious as any old woman!” said Ludovic. “Only let me set foot in the Dower House—”
“You may believe that I am too much your friend to let you do anything of the kind,” said Sir Tristram, with finality.
Chapter Eleven
Ludovic, knowing his cousin too well to attempt to argue with him once his mind was made up, said no more in support of his own plan, but left Miss Thane to entertain Shield while he went off to try his powers of persuasion upon the hapless Clem. Quite forgetting that he must not run the risk of being seen by any stranger, he walked into the taproom, saying: “Clem, are you here? I want you!”
Clem was nowhere to be seen, but just as Ludovic was about to go away again, the door on to the road opened, and a thickset man in a suit of fustian walked into the inn. Ludovic took one look at him, and ejaculated: “Abel!”
Mr Bundy shut the door behind him, and nodded. “I had word you was here,” he remarked.
Ludovic cast a quick glance towards the door leading to the kitchen quarters, where he judged Clem to be, and grasped Bundy by one wrist. “Does Nye know you’re here?” he asked softly.
“No,” replied Bundy. “Not yet he don’t, but I’m wishful to have a word with him.”
“You’re going to have a word with me,” said Ludovic. “I don’t want Nye to know you’re here. Come up to my bedchamber!”
“Adone-do, sir!” expostulated Bundy, standing fast. “You know, surely, what I’ve come for. I’ve a dunnamany kegs of brandy waiting to be delivered here so soon as Nye gives the word.”
“He won’t dare give it yet; the house is full. I’ve other work for you to do.”
Bundy looked him over. “Are you joining Dickson on board the
“No; my grandfather’s dead,” said Ludovic.
“He’ll be a loss,” remarked Mr Bundy thoughtfully. “Howsever, if you’re giving up the smuggling lay, I’m tedious glad. What might you be wanting me to do?”
“Come upstairs, and I’ll tell you,” said Ludovic.
As good luck would have it, there was no one in the coffee-room. Ludovic led Bundy through it and up the stairs to the front bedchamber which had once been Miss Thane’s. It still smelled faintly exotic, a circumstance which did not escape Mr Bundy. “I thought there was a wench in it,” he observed.
Ludovic paid no heed to this sapient remark, but having locked the door, just in case Sir Tristram should take it into his head to come up to see him again before he left the inn, thrust Bundy towards a chair, and told him to sit down. “Abel, you know why I took to smuggling, don’t you?” he asked abruptly.
Mr Bundy laid his hat on the floor beside him, and nodded.
“Well, understand this!” said Ludovic. “I didn’t commit that murder.”
“Oh?” said Bundy, not particularly interested. He added after a moment’s reflection: “Happen you’ll have to prove that if you’m wishful to take the old lord’s place.”
“That’s what I mean to do,” replied Ludovic. “And you are going to help me.”
“I’m agreeable,” said Bundy. “They do tell me we shall have that cousin of yourn up at the Court, him they call the Beau. It would be unaccountable bad for the Trade if that come about. He’ll give no aid to the Gentlemen.”
“You won’t have the Beau at the Court if you help me to prove it was he committed the murder I was charged with,” said Ludovic.
Mr Bundy looked rather pleased. “That’s a rare good notion,” he approved. “Have him put away quiet same like he’d be glad to do to you. How will we set about it?”
“I believe him to have in his possession a ring which belongs to me,” Ludovic answered. “I haven’t time to explain it all to you now, but if I can find that ring, I can prove I was innocent of Plunkett’s death. I want a man to help me break into my cousin’s house tonight. You see how it is with me: that damned riding-officer winged me.”
“Ay, I heard he had,” said Bundy. “I told you you shouldn’t ought to have come.” He looked ruminatingly at Ludovic. “I don’t know as I rightly understand what you’m about. Milling kens ain’t my lay. Seems to me you’d have taken Clem along o’ you—if he’d have gone.”
“I might be able to make him, but I’ve a cousin here—a cursed, cautious, interfering cousin, who don’t mean me to make the attempt. He thinks it’s too dangerous, and it’s odds he’s persuaded Clem into seeing eye to eye with him.”
Mr Bundy scratched his nose reflectively. “One way and another, you’ve been in a lamentable deal of danger since you growed up,” he remarked.
Ludovic grinned. “I shall be in some more yet.”
“Happen you will,” agreed Bundy. “There’s some as seem to be born to it, and others as takes uncommon care of their skins. It queers me how folks manage to keep out of trouble. I never did, but I know them as has.”
“Devilish dull dogs, I’ll be bound. There may be trouble at the Dower House tonight, and for all I know there’s been a trap laid for me. Will you take the risk?”
“How I look at it is this way,” said Bundy painstakingly. “It ain’t no manner of use trying to keep out of trouble if so be you’m born to it. For why? Because if you don’t look for trouble, trouble will come a-looking for you —ah, come sneaking up behind to take you unawares, what’s more. Does Joe Nye know what’s in the wind?”
“No. He’s hand-in-glove with my cousin.”
Mr Bundy looked rather shocked. “What, with that dentical, fine gentleman?”
“Lord, no! Not with him! My cousin Shield—my cautious cousin.”
Mr Bundy stroked his chin. “I never knew Joe to be mistook in a man,” he said. “I doubt I’m doing wrong to go against his judgment. Howsever, if you’ve a fancy to go, I’d best come with you, for you’ll go anyways, unless you’ve changed your nature, which don’t seem to me likely. What’s the orders?”
“I want a horse to be saddled and bridled ready for me at midnight,” answered Ludovic promptly. “Everyone should be asleep here by then, and I can slip out. Have a couple of nags waiting down the Warninglid road, as close to this place as you can come without rousing anyone. I’ll join you there. We’ll ride to the Dower House—it’s only a matter of five miles—and once inside the place, the rest should be easy. You may want your pistols, though I’d as
