The Talisman Ring

“That’s more than I can tell you, miss,” replied Nye picking up Miss Thane’s dress from the floor. “Nor I don’t think they’ve gone far. They would have put up here for the night if I hadn’t shown them that I haven’t a bed to spare. It’s my belief they’re off no farther than to the alehouse down the road.”

“Do you mean to tell me those fellows are going to hang around this place?” said Ludovic, himself again in shirt and breeches. “Who set them on?”

Nye shook his head. “They wouldn’t say. The fat one don’t seem to me to set much store by the information. But for all that, I’ll have the cellar made ready for you, sir.”

“Make it ready for the Runners,” said Ludovic briskly. “We’ll have to kidnap them.”

“There’ll be no such foolishness in this house, Mr Ludovic, and so I’ll have you know!”

Some twenty minutes later Miss Thane, accompanied by her brother, came back to the Red Lion, and was at once met by Eustacie, who drew her upstairs to her room, her story tripping off her tongue.

“Runners in the house, and I not here to see them?” exclaimed Miss Thane, suitably impressed. “I declare I am the most ill-used creature alive! How I should have liked to have helped to hoodwink them!”

“Yes, it was very sad for you to be out, but you did help us, Sarah, because Ludovic put on one of your dresses, and pretended to be my maid.”

They had by this time reached Miss Thane’s bedchamber. Eustacie opened the door and Miss Thane took one step into the room and recoiled.

“It’s only the scent,” said Eustacie kindly. “And indeed it is already much fainter than it was. Ludovic thought that it would be a good thing to break the bottle, pretending that it was mine. In that way, you understand, he was able to hide his face, because he made believe to cry, and to be frightened. And I scolded him—oh, a faire croire!”

“I’m glad,” said Miss Thane. “I suppose it had to be my French perfume?”

Ludovic, hearing their voices, strolled across the passage from his own room, and said with a grin: “Sarah, are you savage with me for having spilled your scent? I will buy you some more one day.”

“Thank you, Ludovic!” said Miss Thane with feeling. “And this is the gown you chose to wear, is it? Yes, I see. After all, I never cared for it above the ordinary.”

“It got split a trifle across the shoulders,” explained Ludovic.

“Yes, I noticed that,” agreed Miss Thane. “But what is a mere gown compared with a man’s life?”

Eustacie greeted this sentiment with great approval, and said that she knew Sarah would feel like that.

“Of course,” said Miss Thane. “And I have been thinking, moreover, that we do not consider Ludovic enough. Look at this large, airy apartment of mine, for instance, and only consider the stuffy little back chamber he is obliged to sleep in! I will change with you, my dear Ludovic.”

Ludovic declined this handsome offer without the least hesitation. “I don’t like the smell of the scent,” he said frankly.

Miss Thane, overcome by her emotions, tottered to a chair and covered her eyes with her hand. In a voice of considerable feeling she gave Ludovic to understand that since he had saturated the carpet in her room with scent, he and not she should sleep in that exotic atmosphere.

The rest of the day was enlivened by alarms and discursions. The Runners had, as Nye suspected, withdrawn merely to the alehouse a mile down the road, and both of them revisited the Red Lion at separate times, entering it in the most unobtrusive, not to say stealthy, manner possible, and explaining their presence in unexpected corners of the house by saying that they were looking for the landlord. The excuses they put forward for these visits, though not convincing, were accepted by Nye with obliging complaisance. Secure in the knowledge that Ludovic was hidden in his secret cellar, he gave the Runners all the facilities they could desire to prowl unaccompanied about the house. The only person to be dissatisfied with this arrangement was the quarry himself who, in spite of the amenities afforded by a brazier and a couple of candles, complained that the cellar was cold, dark, and devilish uncomfortable. His plan of remaining above-stairs in readiness to retreat to the cellar upon the arrival of a Runner was frustrated by the tiresome conduct of these gentlemen, who seemed to spend the entire afternoon prowling around the house. Twice Eustacie was startled by an inquiring face at the parlour window, and three times did Clem report that one of the officers was round the back of the house by the stables, hobnobbing with the ostler and the postboys. Even Sir Hugh became aware of an alien presence in the inn, and complained when he came down to dinner that a strange fellow had poked his head into his bedchamber while he was pulling off his boots.

“A demmed, rascally-looking fellow with a red nose,” he said. “Nye ought to be more careful whom he lets into the place. Came creeping up the passage and peered into my room without so much as a ‘by your leave’.”