The Talisman Ring

Miss Thane, to whom, in the coffee-room, this remark was addressed, said that the betrothal, though perhaps a complication, had been inevitable from the start.

“Quite so, ma’am. But if you had not encouraged Eustacie to remain here it need not have been inevitable.”

“I might have known you would lay it at my door!” said Miss Thane in a voice of pious resignation.

“I imagine you might, since you are very well aware of having fostered the engagement!” retorted Shield. “I had thought you a woman of too much sense to encourage such an insane affair.”

“Oh!” said Miss Thane idiotically, “but I think it is so romantic!”

“Don’t be so foolish!” said Sir Tristram, refusing to smile at this sally.

“How cross you are!” marvelled Miss Thane. “I suppose when one reaches middle age it is difficult to sympathize with the follies of youth.”

Sir Tristram had walked over to the other side of the room to pick up his coat and hat, but this was too much for him, and he turned and said with undue emphasis: “It may interest you to know, ma’am, that I am one-and-thirty years old, and not yet in my dotage!”

“Why, of course not!” said Miss Thane soothingly. “You have only entered upon what one may call the sober time of life. Let me help you to put on your coat!”

“Thank you,” said Sir Tristram. “Perhaps you would also like to give me the support of your arm as far as the door?”

She laughed. “Can I not persuade you to remain a little while? This has been a very fleeting visit. Do you not find it dull alone at the Court?”

“Very, but I am not going to the Court. I am on my way to Brighton, to talk to the Beau’s late butler.”

She said approvingly: “You may be shockingly cross, but you are certainly not idle. Tell me about this butler!”

“There is nothing to tell as yet. He was in the Beau’s employment at the time of Plunkett’s murder, and it occurred to me some days ago that it might be interesting to trace him, and discover what he can remember of the Beau’s movements upon that night.”

This scheme, though it would not have appealed to Eustacie, who preferred her plans to be attended by excitement, seemed eminently practical to Miss Thane. She parted from Sir Tristram very cordially, and went back into the parlour to tell Ludovic that although he might still be unable to do anything towards his reinstatement, his cousin had the matter well in hand.

As she had expected, Eustacie did not regard Sir Tristram’s errand with much favour. She said that it was very well for Tristram, but for herself she preferred that there should be adventure.

But upon the following morning, when Miss Thane had gone out with her brother for a sedate walk, adventure took Eustacie unawares and in a guise that frightened her a good deal more than she liked.

She was seated in the parlour, waiting for Ludovic, who was dressing, to come downstairs, when the mail coach from London arrived. She heard it draw up outside the inn, but paid no attention to it, for it was a daily occurrence, and the coach only stopped at the Red Lion to change horses. But a minute or two later Clem put his head into the room, and said, his face as white as his shirt: “It’s the Runners, miss!”

Eustacie’s embroidery-frame slipped out of her hands. She gazed at Clem in horror, and stammered: “The B-Bow Street Runners?”

“Yes, miss, I’m telling you! And there’s Mr Ludovic trapped upstairs, and Mr Nye not in!” said Clem, wringing his hands.

Eustacie pulled herself together. “He must instantly go into the cellar. I will talk to the Runners while you take him there.”

“It’s too late, miss! Whoever it was sent them knew about the cellars, for there’s one of them standing over the backstairs at this very moment! I never knew they was even on the coach till they come walking into the place, as bold as brass!”

“They may be searching the house now!” exclaimed Eustacie in sudden alarm. “You should not have left them! Oh dear, do you think my cousin will shoot them? If he does we must bury them quickly, before anyone knows!”

“No, no, miss, it ain’t as bad as that yet! What they wants is to see Mr Nye. They daresn’t go searching the place afore ever they tell him what they’re here for. They think I’ve gone to look for him, but what I’ve got to do is to hide the young master, and lordy, lordy, how can I get upstairs without them knowing when one of ’em’s lounging round the backstairs, and’t’other sitting in the coffee-room?”

“Go immediately, and find Nye!” ordered Eustacie. “He must think of a way. I will talk to these Runners, and if I can I will coax the one in the coffee-room to come into the parlour.”