Sir Hugh, accustomed like so many large men to being a butt, received this sally with unruffled placidity, and waved Clem away. The tapster went out, and Miss Thane thoughtfully handed her brother the mustard. “What are your engagements in town, Hugo?”
Sir Hugh reflected while masticating a mouthful of ham. “Have I any?” he asked after a pause.
“I don’t know, Should you mind remaining here for a time?”
“Not while the Chambertin lasts,” replied Sir Hugh simply. He consumed another mouthful, and added: “It’s my belief the liquor in this place never paid duty at any port.”
“No, I think it was probably all smuggled,” agreed Miss Thane. “I met a smuggler last night, when you had gone to bed.”
“Oh, did you?” Sir Hugh washed down the ham with a draught of ale, and emerged from the tankard to say, as a thought occurred to him: “You ought to be more careful. Where did you meet him?”
“He arrived at the inn, very late, and wounded. He’s here now.”
A faint interest gleamed in Sir Hugh’s eye. He lowered his fork. “Did he bring anything with him?”
“Yes, a lady,” said Miss Thane.
“No sense in that,” said Sir Hugh, his interest fading. He went on eating, but added in a moment: “Couldn’t have been a smuggler.”
“He is a smuggler, a nobleman, and one of the most handsome young men I have ever clapped eyes on,” said Miss Thane. “Tell me now, did you ever hear of one Ludovic Lavenham?”
“No,” said Sir Hugh, exchanging his empty plate for one covered with slices of cold beef.
“Are you sure, Hugo? He was used to play cards at the Cocoa-Tree—rather a wild youth, I apprehend.”
“They fuzz the cards at the Cocoa-Tree,” said Sir Hugh. “It’s full of Greeks. Foulest play in town.”
“This boy lost a valuable ring at play there, and was afterwards accused of having shot the man he played against,” persisted Miss Thane.
“I was very nearly done-up myself there once,” said Sir Hugh reminiscently. “Found a regular Captain Sharp at the table, thought the dice ran devilish queerly—”
“Yes, dear, but do you remember?”
“Of course I remember. Sent for a hammer, split the dice, and found they were up-hills, just as I’d expected.”
“No, not that,” said Miss Thane patiently. “Do you recall this other affair?”
“What other affair?”
Miss Thane sighed, and began painstakingly to recount all that Eustacie had told her. Sir Hugh listened to her with an expression of considerable bewilderment, and at the end shook his head. “It sounds a demmed silly story to me,” he said. “You shouldn’t talk to strangers.”
When it was conveyed to him that his sister had pledged herself to assist these strangers in whatever perilous course they might decide to adopt he at first protested as forcibly as a man of his natural indolence could be expected to, and finally begged her not to embroil him in any crazy adventure.
“I won’t,” promised Miss Thane. “But you must swear an oath of secrecy, Hugh!”
Sir Hugh laid down his knife and fork. “Sally, what the deuce is all this about?” he demanded.
She laughed. “My dear, I’ve scarcely any more notion than you have. But I am quite sure of my clear duty, which is to chaperone the little heroine. Moreover, I admit to a slight feeling of curiosity to see the wicked cousin. I am at present at a loss to decide whether Sir Tristram Shield is the villain of the piece or merely a plain man goaded to madness.”
“Shield?” repeated Sir Hugh. “Member of Brooks’s?”
“I don’t know. Do you?”
“If he’s the man I’m thinking of he hunts with the Quorn. Bruising rider to hounds. Good man in a turn-up, too.”
“This sounds very promising,” said Miss Thane.
“Spars with Mendoza,” pursued Sir Hugh. “If he’s the man, I’ve met him at Mendoza’s place. But I dare say I’m thinking of someone else.”
“What is he like?” inquired Miss Thane.
“I’ve told you,” said Sir Hugh, buttering a slice of bread. “He’s got a right,” he added helpfully.
Miss Thane gave it up, and went back to her own bedchamber to see how her protégée did.
Eustacie, not a whit the worse for her adventure, was trying to arrange her hair before the mirror. As she had never attempted anything of the kind before the result was not entirely successful. Miss Thane laughed at her, and took the brush and the pins out of her hand. “Let me do it for you,” she said. “How do you feel this morning?”
Eustacie announced buoyantly that she had never felt better. Her first and most pressing desire was to see how her cousin did, so as soon as Miss Thane had finished dressing her hair they went off to the little back bedchamber.
Nye was with Ludovic, apparently trying to induce him to descend into the cellar. Ludovic, whose eyes were a trifle too bright and whose cheeks were rather flushed, was sitting up in bed with a bowl of thin gruel. As the two ladies came into the room he was saying carelessly: “Don’t croak so, Joe! I tell you I have it all fixed.” He looked up and greeted his visitors with a smile of pure mischief. “Good morning, my cousin! Ma’am, your very obedient! Have you seen any Excisemen below stairs yet?”
“Mr Ludovic, I tell you your tracks lead right to my door, and there’s blood on the snow!”
“You’ve told me that twice already,” said Ludovic, quite unmoved. “Why don’t you send Clem to clear the snow away?”
“I have sent him to clear it away, sir, but don’t you realize they’ll be able to trace you all the way from the Forest?”
“Of course I realize it! Haven’t I made my plans? Eustacie, my sweet cousin, will you have me for your groom?”
“But yes, I will have you for anything you wish!” said Eustacie instantly.
His eyes danced. “Will you so? Begad, if I can settle my affairs creditably I’ll remind you of that!”
“Sir, will you listen to reason?” implored Nye.
An imperious finger admonished him. “Quiet, you! I’ll thank you to remember I’m in the saddle now, Joe.”
“Are you indeed, Mr Ludovic? Well, I’ll do no pillion-riding behind you, for well I know what will come of it!”
“Take away this gruel!” commanded Ludovic. “And get it into your head that I’m not Mr Ludovic! I’m mademoiselle’s groom, whom the wicked smugglers fired at.” He cocked his head, considering. “I think I’ll be called Jem,” he decided. “Jem Brown.”
“No!” said Eustacie, revolted. “It is a name of the most undistinguished.”
“Well, grooms aren’t distinguished. I think it’s a good name.”
“It is not. It will be better if you are Humphrey.”
“No, I’ll be damned if I’ll be called Humphrey! If there’s one name I dislike that’s it.”
Miss Thane interposed placably. “Don’t argue with him, Eustacie. It’s my belief he’s in a high fever.”
He grinned at her. “I am,” he agreed. “But my head’s remarkably clear for all that.”
“Well, if it’s clear enough to grapple with the details of this story of yours, tell us what became of the groom’s horse,” said Miss Thane.
“The smugglers killed it,” offered Eustacie.
Ludovic shook his head. “No, that won’t do. No corpse. Damn the horse, it’s a nuisance! Oh, I have it! When I was shot the brute threw me, and made off home.”
“Maddened by fright,” nodded Miss Thane. “Well, I’m glad to have that point settled. I feel I can now face any number of Excisemen.”
“Mon cousin,” interrupted Eustacie suddenly, “do you think it is Tristram who has your ring?”
The laugh vanished from Ludovic’s eyes. “I’d give something to know!”
“Well, but I must tell you that I thought of a very good plan last night,” said Eustacie. “I will marry Tristram, and then I can search in his collection for the ring.”
“You’ll do no such thing!” snapped Ludovic.
Nye said roughly: “For shame, Mr Ludovic! What’s this unaccountable nonsense? Sir Tristram’s no enemy of yours!”