The Talisman Ring

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!”

“Is he not?” retorted Ludovic. “Will you tell me who, besides myself, was in the Longshaw Spinney that accursed night?”

Nye’s face darkened. “Are you saying it was Sir Tristram as did a foul murder all for the sake of a trumpery ring, my lord? Eh, you’re crazed!”

“I’m saying it was he who met me in the Spinney, he who would have given his whole collection for that same trumpery ring! Didn’t he always dislike me? Can you say he did not?”

“What I wish to say,” interrupted Miss Thane in a calm voice, “is that I want my breakfast.”

Ludovic sank back on to his pillows with a short laugh. Nye, reminded of his duty, at once led both ladies down to the parlour, apologizing as he went for there being no one but himself and Clem to wait upon them. “I’ve only my sister besides, who does the cooking,” he told them, “and a couple of ostlers, of course. We don’t get folk stopping here in the winter in the general way. Maybe it’s as well, seeing who’s under my roof, but I doubt it’s not what you’re accustomed to, ma’am.”