The Talisman Ring (21 page)

‘Not that I am aware of,’ replied Sir Tristram coolly, ‘but from what I could make out from the Runners someone has started a rumour that Eustacie’s smuggler was he.’

The Beau opened his snuff-box. ‘Absurd!’ he murmured. ‘If Ludovic were in Sussex, he must have sent me word.’

‘That is what I thought,’ agreed Shield. ‘You are quite sure he has not sent you word?’

The Beau was in the act of raising a pinch of snuff to his nostrils, but he paused and looked across at his cousin with a slight frown. ‘Certainly not,’ he answered.

‘Oh, you need not be afraid to tell me if you have heard from him,’ said Sir Tristram. ‘I wish the boy no harm. But if the rumour
should
be true, after all, you would be wise to get him out of the country again.’

The Beau did not say anything for several moments, nor did he inhale his snuff. His eyes remained fixed on Shield’s face. He shut his snuff-box again, and at last replied: ‘Perhaps. Yes, perhaps. But I do not anticipate that I shall hear from him.’ He leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other. ‘I am amazed that such a rumour should have arisen – quite amazed. It had not reached my ears. In fact, my errand to you had nothing to do with poor Ludovic, wherever he may be.’

‘I am happy to hear you say so. What is your errand to me?’

‘Oh, quite a trifling one, my dear fellow! It is merely that I find myself obliged to go to London on a matter of stern necessity to-morrow – my new coat, you know: it sags across the shoulders: the most lamentable business! – and it occurred to me that you might wish to charge me with a commission.’

‘Why, that is very good of you, Basil, but I believe I need not trouble you. I expect to leave this place almost any day now.’

‘Oh?’ The Beau regarded him thoughtfully. ‘I infer then that Eustacie is also leaving this place?’

Sir Tristram replied curtly. ‘I believe so. Shall you be in London for many days? Do you mean to return here?’

‘Why, yes, I think so. I shall remain in town for a night only, I trust. I have given the servants leave to absent themselves for no longer. Ah, and that reminds me, Tristram! I wish you will desire that fellow – now, what is the name of Sylvester’s carpenter? Oh, Johnston! – yes, I wish you will desire him to call at the Dower House some time. My man tells me the bolt is off one of the library windows. He might attend to it, perhaps.’

‘Certainly,’ said Shield impassively. But when his cousin presently went away, he looked after him with a faint smile on his lips, and said: ‘How very clumsy, to be sure!’

Ludovic, however, when the encounter was described to him on the following morning, exclaimed, with characteristic impetuosity: ‘Then to-night is our opportunity! We have gammoned the Beau!’

‘He seems to have been equally fortunate,’ said Shield dryly.

Ludovic cocked an intelligent eyebrow. ‘Now what might you mean by that?’ he inquired.

‘Not quite equally,’ said Miss Thane, with a smile.

‘No,’ admitted Shield. ‘He did underrate me a trifle.’

Ludovic perched on the edge of the table, swinging one leg. ‘Oh, so you think it’s a trap, do you? Nonsense! Why should you? He can never have had more than a suspicion of my being here, and you may depend upon it we have convinced him that he was mistaken.’

‘I do not depend upon anything of the kind,’ replied Shield. ‘In fact, I am astonished at the crudity of this trap. Consider a moment, Ludovic! He has told me that he will be in London to-night, that he has given the servants leave of absence, and that the bolt is off one of the library windows. If you are fool enough to swallow that, at least give me credit for having more common sense!’

‘Oh well!’ said Ludovic airily. ‘One must take a risk now and again, after all. Basil daren’t lay a trap for me in his own house. Damn it, man, he can’t take me prisoner and hand me over to the Law! It wouldn’t look well at all.’

‘Certainly not,’ answered Sir Tristram. ‘I have no fear of Basil himself coming into the open, but you are forgetting that he has a very able deputy in the shape of that valet of his. If his servants were to catch you in the Dower House, and hand you over to the Law as a common thief, you would be identified, and beyond any man’s help while Basil was still discreetly in London. He would dispose of you without incurring the least censure from anyone.’

‘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.

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 tap-room, 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 thick-set 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, surelye, 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
Saucy Annie
again?’ he inquired.

‘No; my grandfather’s dead,’ said Ludovic.

‘He’ll be a loss,’ remarked 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 Gentleman.’

‘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 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 belonged 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 to-night. 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 to-night, 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 soon not make it a shooting affair, and we shall certainly need a lantern.’

‘Well, that’s easy enough,’ said Bundy. ‘There’s only one thing as puts me into a bit of a quirk, and that’s how to keep Joe from suspicioning what we’m going to do. Joe’s not one of them as has more hair than wit: there’s a deal of sense in his cockloft.’

‘He must not know you’ve been here to-day,’ said Ludovic. ‘You can get away without him seeing you if I make sure all’s clear.’

‘Oh ay, I can do that,’ agreed Bundy, ‘but it’s odds they’ll tell him in the stables I’ve been around. I’ve left my nag there.’

‘The devil you have! Well, you’d best see Joe if that’s so, but take care you don’t let him guess you’ve had speech with me. You might ask for me. He won’t let you see me, and it’ll look well.’

In accordance with this plan, Bundy, having been smuggled out of the inn by the back way, ten minutes later entered through the front door a second time. He found Clem in the tap-room, and Clem no sooner laid eyes on him than he said that upon no account must Mr Ludovic know of his presence. He thrust him into Nye’s stuffy little private room and went off to summon the landlord. Mr Bundy sat down by the table and chewed a straw.

His interview with Nye did not take long, nor, since both men were taciturn by nature, was there much conversation. ‘Where’s young master?’ inquired Bundy over his tankard.

Nye jerked a thumb upward. ‘Safe enough.’

‘I reckoned you’d hide him up,’ nodded Bundy, dismissing the subject.

‘Ay.’ The landlord regarded him thoughtfully. ‘He’s ripe for mischief, I can tell you. Maybe you’d best keep out of his way. You’re as bad as Clem for letting him twist you round his finger.’

‘Happen you’m right,’ conceded Bundy, retiring into his tankard.

Sir Tristram did not wait for Ludovic to reappear, and for obvious reasons Nye did not tell him of Bundy’s presence in the inn. He had a great value for Sir Tristram, but he preferred to keep his dealings with free-traders as secret as possible. So Sir Tristram, having extracted a promise from Clem not to assist Ludovic to leave the inn that night, departed secure in the conviction that without support his reckless young cousin could achieve nothing in the way of house-breaking.

‘I am afraid we shall have Ludovic like a bear with a sore head,’ prophesied Miss Thane pessimistically.

But when Ludovic came downstairs to the parlour again, he seemed to be in unimpaired spirits, a circumstance which at first relieved Miss Thane’s mind, and presently filled it with misgiving. She fancied that the sparkle in Ludovic’s angelic blue eyes was more pronounced than usual, and after enduring it for some little while, was impelled to comment upon it, though in an indirect fashion. She said that she feared that Sir Tristram’s decision must be unwelcome to him. She was embroidering a length of silk at the time, but as she spoke she raised her eyes from her task and looked steadily at him.

‘Oh well!’ said Ludovic. ‘I’ve been thinking it over, and I dare say he may be in the right of it.’

Voice and countenance were both quite grave, but Miss Thane was unable to rid herself of the suspicion that he was secretly amused. He met her searching look with the utmost limpidity, and after a moment smiled, and reminded her that it was uncivil to stare.

She was quite unable to resist his smile, which was indeed a very charming one, but she said in a serious tone: ‘It would be useless if you were to make the attempt alone, you know. You would not do anything foolish, would you?’

‘Oh, I’m not as mad as that!’ he assured her.

She lowered her embroidery. ‘And you would not – no, of course you would not! – take Eustacie upon such a venture?’

‘Good God, no! I’ll swear it, if you wish.’

She resumed her stitchery, and as her brother came into the room at that moment said no more. When, later, Ludovic discussed exhaustively the various means by which the Beau’s valet might be induced to disclose what he knew, she concluded that her suspicions had been unfounded; and when, midway through the evening, he sat down to play piquet with Sir Hugh she felt herself able to retire to bed with a quiet mind. She had seen him play piquet before, and she knew that once a green baize cloth was before him, and a pack of cards in his hand, all other considerations were likely to be forgotten. Neither he nor Sir Hugh, she judged, would seek their beds until the small hours, by which time he would be too sleepy, and not sufficiently clear-headed (for it was safe to assume that a good deal of wine would flow during the course of the play) to attempt anything in the way of a solitary adventure. He bade her a preoccupied good night, and she went away without the least misgiving. She was not, however, privileged to see the swift, sidelong look he shot at her as she went through the doorway.

That was at half-past nine. At ten o’clock Ludovic undertook to mix a bowl of rum punch for Sir Hugh’s delectation. He promised him something quite above the ordinary, and Sir Hugh, after one sip of the hot, potent brew, admitted that it certainly was above the ordinary. Ludovic drank one glass, and thereafter sat in admiration of Sir Hugh’s capacity. When Sir Hugh commented upon his abstinence, he said frankly that a very little of the mixture would suffice to put him under the table. Sir Hugh, rather pleased, said that he fancied he had a harder head than most men. During the next half-hour he proceeded to demonstrate the justice of this claim. The only effect Ludovic’s punch had upon him was to make him unusually sleepy, and when Ludovic, as the clock struck eleven, yawned, and said that he was for bed, he was able to rise from the table with scarcely a stagger, and to pick up his candle without spilling any more wax on to the floor than was perfectly seemly. Ludovic, relieved to discover that at least the brew had made him feel ready for bed at an unaccustomed hour, conducted him upstairs to his room and saw him safely into it before tiptoeing along the corridor to his own apartment.

Nye had locked up the inn and gone to bed some time before. Ludovic stirred the logs in his fireplace to a blaze, and sat down to while away half an hour.

His preparation for the venture took him some time, since his left arm was still almost useless, but he contrived, though painfully, to pull on a pair of top-boots, and to struggle into his great-coat. Having assured himself that his pistols were properly primed, he stowed one into the top of his right boot, and the other into the right-hand pocket of his coat, and putting on a tricorne of the fashion of three years before, stole softly out on to the corridor, candle in hand.

The stairs creaked under his feet as he crept down them, but it was not this noise which awoke Miss Thane. She was aroused, ironically enough, by the rhythmic and resonant snores proceeding from her brother’s room across the passage. She lay for a few minutes between waking and sleeping, listening to these repulsive sounds, and wondering whether it would be worth while to get up and rouse Sir Hugh, or whether the snoring would recommence the instant he fell asleep again. Just as she had decided that the best thing to do was to draw the bedclothes over her ears, and try to ignore the snoring, a faint sound, as of a bolt being drawn downstairs, jerked her fully awake. She sat up in bed, thought that she could hear the click of a latch, and the next instant was standing on the floor, groping for her dressing-gown.

An oil lamp burned low on the table by the bed. She turned up the wick, and picking up the lamp, went softly out on to the passage.

The house was in pitch darkness, and only Sir Hugh’s snores broke the silence, but Miss Thane was convinced that there had been other and very stealthy sounds. Her first thought was that someone had entered the house, presumably in search of Ludovic, and she was about to steal along the passage to rouse Nye, when another explanation of the faint sounds occurred to her. She went quickly to Ludovic’s room and scratched on the door-panel. There was no answer, and without the slightest hesitation she turned the handle and looked in.

One glance at the unruffled bed was enough to send her flying along the passage to wake Nye. This was easily done, and within two minutes of an urgent, low-voiced call to him through the keyhole, he was beside her on the passage, with a pair of breeches dragged on over his night-shirt, and his night-cap still on his head. When he heard that Ludovic was not in his room he stared at Miss Thane with a pucker between his brows, and said slowly: ‘He wouldn’t do it – not alone!’