The Talisman Ring (15 page)

‘Well, I am a crack shot,’ said Ludovic, smiling most disarmingly up at her.

‘Talking of crack shots,’ said Sir Hugh, ‘what was the name of the fellow who put out all the candles in the big chandelier at Mrs Archer’s once? There were fifteen of them, and he never missed one!’

‘Fifteen?’ said Ludovic. ‘Sixteen!’

‘Fifteen was what I was told. He did it for a wager.’

‘That’s true enough, but I tell you there were sixteen candles!’

Sir Hugh shook his head. ‘You’ve got that wrong. Fifteen.’

‘Damn it, I ought to know!’ said Ludovic. ‘I did it!’

‘You did it?’ Sir Hugh regarded him with renewed interest. ‘You mean to tell me you are the man who shot the wicks off fifteen candles at Mrs Archer’s?’

‘I shot the wicks off
sixteen
candles!’ said Ludovic.

‘Well, all I can say is that it was devilish fine shooting,’ said Sir Hugh. ‘But are you sure you have the figure right? I rather fancy fifteen was the number.’

‘Where’s Tristram?’ demanded Ludovic of Miss Thane. ‘He was there! Sixteen candles I shot. I used my Mantons, and Jerry Matthews loaded for me.’

‘I don’t know him,’ remarked Sir Hugh. ‘Would he be a son of old Frederick Matthews?’

Miss Thane at this point withdrew to summon Sir Tristram. When she returned with him she found that the question of Mr Jerry Matthew’s parentage had led inexplicably to an argument on the precise nature of a certain bet entered in the book at White’s three years before. The argument was broken off as soon as Sir Tristram entered the room, for Ludovic at once commanded him to say whether he had put out fifteen or sixteen candles at Mrs Archer’s house.

‘I don’t remember,’ replied Sir Tristram. ‘All I remember is that you shattered a big mirror to smithereens and brought the Watch in on us.’

Sir Hugh, who was looking fixedly at Sir Tristram, said suddenly, and with a pleased air: ‘Shield! That’s who you are! Recognized you at once. What’s more, I know where I saw you last.’

Sir Tristram shook hands with him. ‘At Mendoza’s fight with Warr last year,’ he said, without hesitation. ‘I recall that you were on the roof of the coach next to my curricle.’

‘That’s it!’ said Thane. ‘A grand turn-up! Did you see Dan’s last fight with Humphries? A couple of years ago that would be, or maybe three.’

‘I saw him beat Humphries twice, and I was at the Fitzgerald turn-up in ’91.’

‘You were? Then tell me this – Was Fitzgerald shy, or was he not?’

‘Not shy, no. Rather glaringly abroad once or twice, I thought.’

‘He was, was he? I’m glad to know that, because –’

‘If you are going to talk about prize-fights, I’ll leave you,’ interposed Miss Thane.

‘No, don’t do that,’ said Ludovic. ‘I’m not interested in prize-fights. By-the-by, did you find that panel?’

This casual reference to her morning’s labour made Miss Thane reply tartly: ‘No, Ludovic, we did
not
find that panel.’

‘I didn’t think you would,’ he said.

Miss Thane appeared to struggle with emotions. Her brother, showing a faint interest in what he had caught of the conversation, said sympathetically: ‘Lost something?’

‘No, dear,’ replied Sarah, with awful calm. ‘It is Lord Lavenham who has lost a talisman ring. I told you all about it three days ago. He lost it at play one night at the Cocoa-Tree.’

‘I do remember you telling me some rigmarole or another,’ admitted Thane. ‘If you want my advice, Lavenham, you won’t play at the Cocoa-Tree. I met a Captain Sharp there myself once. Hazard it was, and the dice kept running devilish high. I’d my suspicions of them from the start, and sure enough they were up-hills.’

‘Oh, the play was fair enough,’ said Ludovic indifferently.

‘What I’m telling you is that it wasn’t,’ said Sir Hugh, patient but obstinate. ‘I split the dice myself, and found ’em loaded.’

‘I wasn’t talking about that.
My
game was piquet. Never played hazard at the Cocoa-Tree in my life. I used to play at Almack’s, and Brooks’s, of course.’

‘Very high-going at Brooks’s,’ said Thane, with a reflective shake of the head.

Sarah, seeing that a discussion of the play at the various gaming clubs in London was in a fair way to being begun, intervened before Ludovic could say anything more. She reminded him severely that they had more important things to discuss than gaming, and added with a good deal of feeling that her efforts on his behalf had not only been fruitless, but quite possibly disastrous as well. ‘Your cousin,’ she said, ‘has heard about Eustacie’s groom, and there is no doubt that he feels suspicious. Luckily, Sir Tristram had the presence of mind to tell him that the groom was – whom did you say he was, Sir Tristram?’

‘Jem Sunning,’ replied Shield. ‘You remember him, Ludovic?’

‘Yes, but I thought he went to America.’

‘He did,’ said Shield. ‘That was why I chose him. But I’m not sure that the Beau believed me. It is more imperative than ever that you should get to some place of safety. If you won’t go to Holland –’

‘Well, I won’t,’ said Ludovic flatly.

Sir Hugh came unexpectedly to his support. ‘Holland?’ he said. ‘I shouldn’t go to Holland if I were you. I didn’t like it at all. Rome, now! That’s the place – though they have a demmed sight too many pictures there, too,’ he added gloomily.

‘I am going to stay here,’ said Ludovic. ‘If the worst comes to the worst, there’s always the cellar.’

‘Just what I was thinking myself!’ said Thane approvingly. ‘I’ve a strong notion there’s more in that cellar than we’ve discovered. Why, I didn’t get hold of this Canary till yesterday!’

No one paid the slightest heed to this interruption. Sir Tristram said: ‘Very well, if you are determined, Ludovic, I don’t propose to waste time in trying to persuade you. Are you serious in thinking that the ring may be behind that panel?’

‘Of course I’m serious! It’s the very place for it. Where else would he be likely to put it?’

‘If I help you to get into the house, can you find the panel?’

‘I can try,’ said Ludovic hopefully.

‘Yes, no doubt,’ returned Shield, ‘but I have assisted in one aimless search for it, and I’ve no desire to repeat the experience.’

‘Once I’m in the house you can leave it to me,’ said Ludovic. ‘I’m bound to recognize the panelling when I see it.’

‘I hope you may,’ replied Shield. ‘The Beau spoke of going to town one day this week, and that should be our opportunity.’

Miss Thane coughed. ‘And how – the question just occurs to me, you know – shall you get into the Dower House, sir?’

‘We can break in through a window,’ answered Ludovic. ‘There’s no difficulty about that.’

She cast a demure glance up at Shield. ‘I am afraid you will never get Sir Tristram to agree to do anything so rash,’ she said.

He returned her glance with one of his measuring looks. ‘I must seem to you a very spiritless creature, Miss Thane.’

She smiled, and shook her head, but would never answer. Her brother, who had been following the conversation with a puzzled frown, suddenly observed that it all sounded very odd to him. ‘You can’t break into someone’s house!’ he objected.

‘Yes, I can,’ returned Ludovic. ‘I’m not such a cripple as that!’

‘But it’s a criminal offence!’ Sir Hugh pointed out.

‘If it comes to that it’s a criminal offence to smuggle liquor into the country,’ replied Ludovic. ‘I can tell you, I’m in so deep that it don’t much signify what I do now.’

Sir Hugh sat up. ‘You’re never the smuggler my sister spoke to me about?’

‘I’m a free-trader,’ said Ludovic, grinning.

‘Then just tell me this!’ said Thane, his interest in house-breaking vanishing before a more important topic. ‘Can you get me a pipe of the same Chambertin Nye has in his cellar?’

It was agreed finally that Ludovic should attempt nothing in the way of housebreaking until his cousin had discovered which day the Beau proposed to go to London. Ludovic, incurably optimistic, considered his ring as good as found already, but Shield, taking a more sober view of the situation, saw pitfalls ahead. If the Beau, like his father before him, were indeed in the habit of using the priest’s hole as a hiding-place for his strong-box, nothing was more likely than his keeping the ring there as well. Almost the only point on which Shield found himself at one with his volatile young cousin was the belief, firmly held by Ludovic, that the Beau, if he ever had the ring, would neither have sold it nor have thrown it away. To sell it would be too dangerous a procedure; to throw away an antique of great value would require more resolution than Sir Tristram believed the Beau possessed. But Sir Tristram could not share Ludovic’s easy-going contempt of the Beau. Ludovic persisted in laughing at his affectations, and thinking him a mere fop of no particular courage or enterprise. Sir Tristram, though he had no opinion of the Beau’s courage, profoundly mistrusted his suavity, and considered him to be a great deal more astute than he seemed.

The circumstance of the Beau’s butler and valet having seen part at least of the search for the secret panel Sir Tristram found disturbing. That the Beau was already suspicious of Eustacie’s supposed groom was apparent; Sir Tristram believed that if he got wind of his cousins’ odd behaviour in his library he would be quite capable of putting two and two together and not only connecting Ludovic with the episode but realizing that he himself had at last fallen under suspicion. And if the Beau suspected that Ludovic, who knew the position of the priest’s hole, had come into Sussex to find his ring he would surely be very unlikely to leave it where it would certainly be looked for.

Some part of these forebodings Shield confided to Miss Thane, enjoining her to do all that lay in her power to keep Ludovic hidden from all eyes but their own.

‘Well, I will do my best,’ replied Sarah, ‘but it is not an easy task, Sir Tristram.’

‘I know it is not an easy task,’ he said impatiently, ‘but it is the only way in which you can assist us – which I understand you to be desirous of doing.’

She could not forbear giving him a look of reproach. ‘You must be forgetting what assistance I rendered you at the Dower House,’ she said.

‘No,’ replied Sir Tristram, at his dryest. ‘I was not forgetting that.’

Miss Thane rested her chin in her hand, pensively surveying him. ‘Will you tell me something, Sir Tristram?’

‘Perhaps. What is it?’

‘What induced you ever to contemplate marriage with your cousin?’

He looked startled, and not too well pleased. ‘I can hardly suppose, ma’am, that my private affairs can be of interest to you,’ he said.

‘Some people,’ remarked Miss Thane wisely, ‘would take that for a set-down.’

Their eyes met; Sir Tristram smiled reluctantly. ‘You do not seem to be of their number, ma’am.’

‘I am very thick-skinned,’ explained Sarah. ‘You see, I have not had the benefit of a correct upbringing.’

‘Have you always lived with your brother?’ he inquired.

‘Since I left school, sir.’

‘I suppose that accounts for it,’ he said, half to himself.

‘Accounts for what?’ asked Miss Thane suspiciously.

‘Your – unusual quality, ma’am.’

‘I hope that is a compliment,’ said Miss Thane, not without misgiving.

‘I am not very apt at compliments!’ he retorted.

Her eyes twinkled appreciatively. ‘Yes, I deserved that. Very well, Sir Tristram, but you have not answered my question. Why did you take it into your head to marry your cousin?’

‘You have been misinformed, ma’am. The idea was taken into my great-uncle’s head, not mine.’

She raised her brows. ‘Had you no voice in the matter then? Now, from what I have seen of you, I find that very hard to believe.’

‘Do you imagine that I wanted to marry Eustacie for the sake of her money?’ he demanded.

‘No,’ replied Miss Thane calmly. ‘I do not imagine anything of the kind.’

His momentary flash of anger died down; he said, less harshly: ‘Being the last of my name, ma’am, I conceive it to be my duty to marry. The alliance proposed to me by my great-uncle was one of convenience, and as such agreeable to me. Owing to the precarious circumstances to which the upheaval in France has reduced her paternal relatives, her grandfather’s death leaves Eustacie alone in the world, a contingency he sought to provide against by this match. I promised Sylvester upon his death-bed that I would marry Eustacie. That is all the story.’

‘How do you propose to salve your conscience?’ asked Miss Thane.

‘My conscience is not likely to trouble me in this instance,’ he answered. ‘Eustacie does not wish to marry me, and it would take more than a promise made to Sylvester to make me pursue a suit which she has declared to be distasteful to her. Moreover, had events turned out otherwise, Sylvester would have given her to Ludovic, not to me.’

‘Oh, that is famous!’ said Miss Thane. ‘We can now promote her betrothal to him with clear consciences. But it is vexing for you to be obliged to look about you for another lady eligible for the post you require her to fill. Are you set on marrying a young female?’

‘I am not set on marrying anyone, and I beg that you –’

‘Well, that should make it easier,’ said Miss Thane. ‘Very young ladies are apt to be romantic, and that would never do.’

‘I certainly do not look for romance in marriage, but pray do not let my affairs –’

‘It must be someone past the age of being hopeful of getting a husband,’ pursued Miss Thane, sinking her chin in her hand again.

‘Thank you!’ said Sir Tristram.

‘Not handsome – I do not think we can expect her to be more than passable,’ decided Miss Thane. ‘Good birth would of course be an essential?’

‘Really, Miss Thane, this conversation –’

‘Luckily,’ she said, ‘there are any number of plain females of good birth but small fortune to be found in town. You may meet a few at the subscription balls at Almack’s but I dare say I could find you a dozen to choose from whose Mamas have long since ceased to take them to the “Marriage Market.” After a certain number of seasons they have to yield place to younger sisters, you know.’

‘You are too kind, ma’am!’

‘Not at all; I shall be delighted to help you,’ Miss Thane assured him. ‘I have just the sort of female that would suit you in my mind’s eye. A good, affectionate girl, with no pretensions to beauty, and a grateful disposition. She must be past the age of wanting to go to parties, and she must not expect you to make pretty speeches to her. I wonder – Would you object to her having a slight – a
very
slight squint in one eye?’

‘Yes, I should,’ said Sir Tristram. ‘Nor have I the smallest desire to –’

Miss Thane sighed. ‘Well, that is a pity. I had thought of the very person for you.’

‘Let me beg you not to waste your time thinking of another! The matter is not urgent.’

She shook her head. ‘I cannot agree with you. After all, when one approaches middle age –’

‘Middle – Has anyone ever boxed your ears, Miss Thane?’

‘No, never,’ said Miss Thane, looking blandly up at him.

‘You have been undeservedly fortunate,’ said Sir Tristram grimly. ‘We will, if you please, leave the subject of my marriage. I do not anticipate an immediate entry into wedlock.’

‘Do you know,’ said Miss Thane, with an air of candour, ‘I believe you are wise. You are not cut out for matrimony. Your faith in females was shattered by an unfortunate affair in your youth; your eyes were opened to the defects of the female character; you are –’

Sir Tristram looked thunderous. ‘Who told you this?’ he snapped.

‘Why, you did!’

‘
I?
’ he repeated.

‘Most certainly.’

‘You are mistaken. I am ready to allow that there may be many excellent women in the world. I do not know by what sign you knew that there had been an affair in my past about which I do not care to think. I can assure you that it has not prejudiced me against your sex.’

Miss Thane listened to this with her usual placidity, and, far from showing discomfiture, merely said: ‘It seems to me very inexplicable that you can have met your cousin with so open a mind and yet failed to fall instantly in love with her.’

He gave a short laugh. ‘There is no fear of my falling in love, ma’am. I learned my lesson early in life, but believe me, I have not forgotten it!’

‘How melancholy it is to reflect that so few people have the good sense to profit by their experience as you have done!’ said Miss Thane soulfully. ‘I wonder if we should warn your cousins of the disillusionment in store for them?’

‘I do not think it will be necessary, Miss Thane. Moreover, there is no immediate likelihood of their being married. Ludovic’s affairs seem to me to be in as bad a way as they well might be.’

She became serious at once. ‘Do you think them hopeless?’

‘No, not hopeless,’ he replied. ‘But we have no certainty of the talisman ring being in Basil Lavenham’s possession, and to be frank with you, I don’t place much dependence upon its being in the priest’s hole, even if he has got it. Assuming that he has, I think he would remove it from a hiding-place known to Ludovic the instant he suspected his presence in the neighbourhood.’

‘But does he suspect his presence?’

‘There is no saying what the Beau suspects, Miss Thane. Don’t allow Ludovic to convince you that we have to deal with a fool! He is no such thing, I assure you.’

‘You need not tell me that: I have met him. Will you think me fanciful if I say that I have a strong feeling that he is truly at the bottom of all Ludovic’s troubles?’

‘No, I think it myself. The difficulty will be to prove it.’

‘If you cannot find the ring what is to be done?’

She saw his mouth harden. He had evidently considered this question, for he replied at once: ‘If the worst comes to the worst, the truth will have to be got out of him by other methods.’

Miss Thane, looking at Sir Tristram’s powerful frame, and observing the grimness in his face, could not help feeling sorry for the Beau if the worst should come to the worst. She replied lightly: ‘Would – er – other methods answer, do you suppose?’

‘Probably,’ said Sir Tristram. ‘He has very little physical courage. But until we have more to go upon than conjecture, we need not consider that.’

She sat thinking for a few moments, and presently said: ‘In one way it might not be so bad a thing if he did suspect Ludovic’s presence here. If he suspected it he must, I imagine, realize that you have been convinced of Ludovic’s innocence. I have frequently observed that when people are a little alarmed they are apt to behave with less than common sense. Your cousin has been so secure until now that it has been easy to act with coolness and presence of mind.’

‘Very true,’ he conceded. ‘I have thought of that, but the risks outweigh the advantages. If it were not for one circumstance I should seriously consider removing Ludovic from this country.’

‘He seems very determined. I don’t think that he would consent to go,’ said Miss Thane.

‘I shouldn’t ask his consent,’ replied Shield.

‘Dear me, you seem to be in a very ruthless mood!’ she remarked. ‘What makes you hesitate to kidnap poor Ludovic?’

‘His marksmanship,’ he answered. ‘A man would have to be in desperate straits before he engaged in a shooting-match with Ludovic. The Beau won’t risk it.’

‘Well,’ said Miss Thane, getting up from her chair, ‘I am far from wishing you to ship Ludovic out of the country (besides, it’s my belief he would come back), but I’ve a notion we are going to see some stirring adventures before we leave this place.’

‘It’s very possible,’ he agreed. ‘Are you afraid?’

She raised her eyes to his face. There was a hint of amusement in them. ‘My dear sir, can you not see that I am positively trembling with fright?’ she said.

He smiled. ‘I beg your pardon. But to have a finger in a pie of Ludovic’s making is enough to cause the bravest to quail! What I chiefly dread is his taking it into his head to break into the Dower House without waiting for word from me. Do you think you can prevent him?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Sarah candidly. ‘But I can at least get word to you if he becomes unmanageable.’

For the time being, however, even Ludovic himself was forced to admit that his strength was not sufficiently recovered to permit of his riding five miles to the Dower House. He had lost a good deal of blood, and had been feverish for long enough to make him tiresomely weak upon first getting up out of his sick-bed. He was not one to submit patiently to being an invalid, not did it seem to be possible to impress him with a sense of the dangerous nature of his situation. Once he was possessed of his clothes, nothing short of turning the key on him could keep him in his room. He strolled about the inn in the most careless way imaginable, his left arm disposed in a sling and Sylvester’s great ruby on his finger. When begged to conceal this too well-known ring somewhere about his person, or to give it back to Tristram for safe-keeping, he said No, he had a fancy to wear Sylvester’s ruby. Twice he nearly walked into the arms of local visitors to the Red Lion, who had come in for a tankard of ale and a chat over the coffee-room fire, and only Miss Thane’s timely intervention prevented him sallying forth into the yard with Sir Hugh to win his bet with a little marksmanship. Miss Thane, accustomed to handling the male, did not attempt to dissuade him from shooting. She merely suggested that if he wished to fire a noisy pistol the cellar would be the best place for such a pastime. Ludovic was just about to argue the point when Sir Hugh providentially pooh-poohed his sister’s suggestion, on the score that no one could be expected to culp a wafer in the wretched light afforded by a branch of candles. This was quite enough to make Ludovic instantly engage to win his wager under these or any other conditions, and down they both went, with Clem in attendance. There being no wafers available a playing-card had to suffice. When Ludovic tossed the ace of hearts to Clem, and said carelessly: ‘Hold it for me, Clem!’ Sir Hugh was shocked almost out of his sleepy placidity, and indeed went so far as to adjure the tapster not to be fool enough to obey. Clem, who, besides possessing boundless faith in Ludovic, would never have dreamed of disobeying his orders, merely grinned at this piece of advice, and held up the card by one corner. Ludovic, lounging on a barrel, inspected the priming of his pistol, requested Thane to move the candles a little to one side, levelled the pistol, and fired. The card fluttered to the ground. Clem, grinning more than ever, picked it up and showed it to Sir Hugh with the pip blown clean out of it.