The Talisman Ring

“Yes, but not, of course, until he has rescued her from an oubliette, and a band of masked ruffians set on to her by his mother,” said Miss Thane matter-of-factly. “She has to suffer a good deal of persecution before she elopes.”

“I am of the opinion,” said Sir Tristram with asperity, “that a little persecution would do my cousin a world of good! Her thirst for romance is likely to lead her into trouble. In fact, I was very much afraid that she had already run into trouble when I found her bandboxes upon the road. Perhaps, since she appears to have told you so much, she has also told you how she came to lose them?”

Miss Thane, perceiving that this question would lead her on to dangerous ground, mendaciously denied all knowledge of the bandboxes. She then made the discovery that Sir Tristram Shield’s eyes were uncomfortably penetrating. She met their sceptical gaze with all the blandness she could summon to her aid.

“Indeed!” he said, politely incredulous. “But perhaps you can tell me why, if she was bound for London by the night mail, as her maid informed me, she is still in this inn?”

“Certainly!” said Sarah, rising to the occasion. “She arrived too late for the mail, and was forced to put up for the night.”

“What did she do for night gear?” inquired Shield.

“Oh, I lent her what she needed!”

“I suppose she did not think the loss of her baggage of sufficient interest to call for explanation?”

“To tell you the truth—” began Sarah confidingly.

“Thank you! I should like to hear the truth.”

“To tell you the truth,” repeated Sarah coldly, “she had a fright, and the bandboxes broke loose.”

“What frightened her?”

“A Headless Horseman,” said Sarah.

He was frowning again. “Headless Horseman? Fiddlesticks!”

“Very well,” said Sarah, as one making a concession, “then it was a dragon.”

“I think,” said Sir Tristram in a very level voice, “that it will be better if I see my cousin and hear her story from her own lips.”

“Not if you are going to approach it in this deplorable spirit,” replied Miss Thane. “I dare say you would tell her there are no such things as dragons or headless horsemen!”

“Well?”

Miss Thane cast down her eyes to hide the laughter in them, and replied in a saddened tone: “When she told me the whole I thought it impossible that anyone could be so devoid of all sensibility, but now that I have seen you I realize that she spoke no less than the melancholy truth. A man who could remain unaffected by the thought of a young girl, dressed in white, all alone, and in a tumbril—”

His brow cleared; he gave a short laugh. “Does that rankle? But really I am past the age of being impressed by such absurdities.”

Miss Thane sighed. “Perhaps that might be forgiven, but your heartlessness in refusing to ride ventre a terre to her deathbed—”

“Good God, surely she cannot have fled the house for such a ridiculous reason?” exclaimed Shield, considerably exasperated. “Why she should continually be harping on the notion of her own death passes my comprehension! She seems to me a perfectly healthy young woman.”

Miss Thane looked at him in horror. “You did not tell her that, I trust?”

“I don’t know what I told her. I might very easily.”

“If I were you,” said Miss Thane, “I would give up this idea you have of marrying your cousin. You would not suit.”

“I’m fast coming to that conclusion myself,” he said. “Moreover, Miss—What is your name?”

“Thane,” replied Sarah.

“Thane?” he repeated. “I fancy I have met someone of that name, but I do not immediately recall—”

“At Mendoza’s Saloon,” interpolated Sarah helpfully.

He looked a little amused. “Yes, possibly. But do you—”

“Or even at Brooks’s.”

“I am certainly a member.”

“My brother,” said Sarah. “He is at present in bed, nursing a severe cold, but I dare say he will like to receive you.”

“It is extremely obliging of him, but my sole desire is to see my cousin, Miss Thane.”

Sarah, whose attention had been caught by the sound of an arrival, paid no heed to this hint, but peeped over the short window-blind. What she saw made her feel uneasy; she turned her head and requested Sir Tristram to come at once. “Tell me,” she commanded, “who are these two men in uniform?”

He came to the window. “Only a couple of Excisemen,” he answered, after a casual glance.

“Oh, is that all?” said Miss Thane in rather a hollow voice. “I expect they have come to see what Nye keeps in his cellars. My brother fancies it is all smuggled liquor.”

He looked at her in some perplexity. “They won’t find anything. May I remind you, ma’am, that I wish to see my cousin?”