“Put what?” said Sir Hugh, who was wandering about the room, attempting in a singularly helpless fashion to restore order.
“The Beau’s quizzing-glass, my dear. I am sure you had it in your hand when Eustacie and I went up to bed last night.”
“I don’t know where I put it,” said Sir Hugh, stooping to pick up a crumpled cravat. “I laid it down somewhere.”
“Where?” insisted Miss Thane.
“I forget. Sally, this is my new riding-coat, I’ll have you know! Just look at it! It’s ruined!”
“No, dear, Clem will iron out the creases for you. You must know where you put that quizzing-glass. Do think!”
“I’ve something more important to think about than a quizzing-glass that don’t belong to me, and which I don’t like. Ugly, cumbersome thing, it was. I dare say I left it on the table in the coffee-room.”
Nye shook his head. “It wasn’t there this morning, sir.”
“Well, I may have brought it upstairs. I tell you I don’t know, and I don’t care.”
“I suppose it doesn’t signify,” said Miss Thane reflectively. “Depend upon it, that was what the Beau wanted. I must say, I hope he found it, for the prospect of any more ransacking I find quite appalling.”
Eustacie, helping Sir Hugh to smooth and fold several crumpled neckcloths, said carefully: “This is a very good adventure, and of course I am enjoying it—cela va sans dire!—but—but do you think that Basil will again try to come and kill Ludovic?”
“I should think it unlikely,” answered Shield, “but I am going to ride back to the Court for my night-gear, and spend the night in Ludovic’s room.”
“Famous!” said Miss Thane. “I declare I never dreamed of such a romantic adventure as this turns out to be. In a little while we shall be barricading ourselves into the inn in a state of siege. Nothing would be more delightful!”
“I’ve no objection to Shield’s putting up here, if he wants to,” stated Sir Hugh, “but if I am to be roused out of my bed by fellows in loo-masks I won’t be answerable for the consequences!”
Miss Thane, perceiving that his placidity was seriously impaired, set herself to coax him back into good humour. Nye promised to send Clem up immediately to put away all the scattered belongings, and he presently allowed himself to be escorted down to the parlour and installed in an easy chair by the fire, with a bottle of Madeira at his elbow. All he asked, he said, was a little peace and quiet, so his sister tactfully withdrew, leaving him to the mellowing influence of his wine.
Sir Tristram did not remain long at the Red Lion, but soon called for his horse, promising to return in time for dinner. No more startling events occurred during the course of the afternoon, and no suspicious strangers entered the taproom. Sir Tristram came back shortly after six o’clock, and Nye, bolting the door into the coffee-room, released Ludovic, who had reached the point of announcing with considerable acrimony that if coming into possession of his inheritance entailed many more days spent underground, he would prefer to return to his free trading.
After dinner Miss Thane had the tact to suggest that they should sit down to a game of loo, and in this way the evening passed swiftly, Ludovic’s problem being for the time forgotten, and the game proving so engrossing that it was not until after eleven o’clock that Miss Thane thought to look at the timepiece on the mantelshelf. The party then broke up, and the ladies had just picked up their candles when Nye’s voice was suddenly heard somewhere above-stairs, raised in ferocious surprise.
Sir Tristram, signing to the others to remain where they were, went quickly out into the coffee-room, just as Nye came down the stairs, dragging by the collar a scared-looking stable-boy. When he saw Shield he said: “I’ve just found this young varmint in Sir Hugh’s bedchamber, your Honour. Down you come, you! Now then, what were you doing up there?”
The stableboy whimpered that he meant no harm, and tried to squirm out of the landlord’s hold. Nye shook him, almost lifting him from the ground, and Sir Tristram said: “Is he one of your lads, Nye?”
“Ay, sir, he’s one of my lads right enough, but he’ll belong to the Parish Constable in the morning,” said Nye with awful meaning. “A thief, that’s what he is, and will likely be transported. That or hanged.”
“I ain’t a thief! I never meant no harm, Mr Nye, I swear I didn’t! I ain’t took a thing that belongs to the big gentleman, nor wouldn’t!”
“What were you doing in his bedchamber?” demanded Nye. “You’ve no business inside the house, and well you know it! Came creeping in through a window, that’s what you did, and don’t you dare to deny it! There’s the ladder you used for anyone to see. Feeling in the pockets of Sir Hugh’s coats he was, sir, the young vagabond! What’s that you’ve got in your hand? Give it up this instant!”
The boy made a futile attempt to break away, but Nye seized his right arm and gave it a twist that made him cry out and relinquish the object he had been trying to conceal. It was a quizzing-glass belonging to Sir Hugh Thane.
Nye stared at it for a moment, his countenance slowly reddening with wrath. His grip tightened on the stableboy’s collar. “So that’s it, is it?” he said. “You’ll be sorry for this, Sam Barker!”
Sir Tristram, taking the glass from him, interposed in his quiet way: “Let him go, Nye. Now, my lad, if you speak the truth no harm shall come to you. Who told you to steal this?”
The boy cowered as far from Nye as he was able, and said: “It were Mr Lavenham’s gentleman, your Honour, and ’deed I didn’t know there was any harm! He come asking me if I’d like to earn twenty guineas for myself, all for finding an eyeglass Mr Lavenham mislaid here. It was the big gentleman as had got it, he said, and if I found it, and no one the wiser, there’d be twenty golden guineas for me. It weren’t like stealing, sir! I ain’t a thief!”
“Oh, you ain’t, eh?” said Nye. “And if Mr Lavenham mislaid his glass what should stop him coming to ask for it open? Don’t tell me you didn’t think there was any harm in it!”
“It was Mr Lavenham’s eyeglass. Mr Gregg said if I didn’t ask no questions there’d be no trouble for anyone.”
“There will be a great deal of trouble for you at least if you do not do precisely what I tell you now,” said Sir Tristram sternly. “If you had your deserts you would be handed over to the Constable. But if you keep your mouth shut I will engage for it that Nye will overlook this fault. Understand me, I want no word of what has occurred tonight to come to Gregg’s ears, or to Mr Lavenham’s. If you are questioned you will tell them that you have had no opportunity to search Sir Hugh’s room. Is that clear?”
The stableboy, thankful to have escaped the retribution he had thought inevitable, assured him that it was quite clear. He stammered out his gratitude, promised eternal good behaviour, and fled.
Nye drew a long breath. “Begging your pardon, sir, but I’d a deal rather be rid of the young good-for-nothing. My own lads bribed! What next will we have, I’d like to know?”
Sir Tristram was looking at the quizzing-glass in his hand. He said slowly: “So they didn’t find it! I wonder ...” He broke off, and strode suddenly towards the parlour. He was met by demands to know what has happened, and replied briefly: “One of Nye’s stablehands had been bribed to find the Beau’s quizzing-glass. He found this instead.”
“But that’s mine!” said Sir Hugh, regarding it fixedly.
“I know it.”
“Do you mean to tell me I’ve had my room ransacked again?” demanded Sir Hugh.
“No, I think you’ve merely had your pockets turned out. That’s not important.”
“Not important!” ejaculated Sir Hugh, considerably incensed. “And what if I’ve been robbed? I suppose that’s not important either! Burn it, I never was in such a house in my life! It’s for ever full of a set of rascals broken out of Newgate, and what with masked assassins, and Bow Street Runners, and young Lavenham here taking it into his head to live in the cellar, I don’t know where I am from one minute to the next. What’s more, you’re as bad as the rest of them, Sally!”