The Talisman Ring (8 page)

‘I see that I must explain to you the talisman ring,’ said Eustacie, and drew a deep breath.

Miss Thane, a sympathetic listener, followed the story of the talisman ring with keen interest, only interpolating a question when the tale became too involved to be intelligible. She accepted Ludovic’s innocence without the smallest hesitation, and said at the end of the recital that nothing would give her greater pleasure than to assist in unmasking the real culprit.

‘Yes,’ said Eustacie, ‘and me, I think that it was perhaps my cousin Tristram, for he has a collection of jewellery, and, besides, he is a person who might murder people – except that he is not at all romantic,’ she added.

‘He sounds very disagreeable,’ said Miss Thane.

‘He is – very! And, do you know, I have suddenly thought that perhaps I had better marry him, because then he would have to show me his collection, and if I found the talisman ring it would make everything right for Ludovic.’

Miss Thane bent down to poke the fire. She said with a slight tremor in her voice: ‘But then if you did not find the ring it would be tiresome to have married him all to no purpose. And one has to consider that he might not wish to marry you.’

‘Oh, but he does!’ said Eustacie. ‘In fact, we are betrothed. That is why I ran away. He has no conversation. Moreover, he said that if I went to London, I should not find myself in any way remarkable.’

‘He was wrong,’ said Miss Thane with conviction.

‘Yes, I think he was wrong, but you see he is not
sympathique
, and he does not like women.’

Miss Thane blinked at her. ‘Are you sure?’ she said. ‘I mean, if he wants to marry you –’

‘But he does not
want
to marry me! It is just that he must have an heir, and because Grandpère made for us a
mariage de convenance
. Only Grandpère is dead now, and I am not going to marry a person who says that he would not care if I went to the guillotine in a tumbril!’

‘Did he really say that?’ inquired Miss Thane. ‘He must be a positive Monster!’

‘Well, no, he did not say exactly that,’ admitted Eustacie. ‘But when I asked him if he would not be sorry to see me, a
jeune fille
, in a tumbril, and dressed all in white, he said he would be sorry for anyone in a tumbril, “whatever their age or sex or – or apparel”!’

‘You need say no more; I can see that he is a person of no sensibility,’ said Miss Thane. ‘I am not surprised that you ran away from him to join your cousin Ludovic.’

‘Oh, I didn’t!’ replied Eustacie. ‘I mean, I never knew I was going to meet Ludovic. I ran away to become a governess.’

‘Forgive me,’ said Miss Thane, ‘but have you then just met your cousin Ludovic by chance, and for the first time?’

‘But yes, I have told you! And he said I should not do for a governess.’ She sighed. ‘I wish I could think of something to be which is exciting! If only I were a man!’

‘Yes,’ agreed Miss Thane. ‘I feel very strongly that you should have been a man and gone smuggling with your cousin.’

Eustacie threw her a glowing look. ‘That is just what I should have liked! But Ludovic says they never take females with them.’

‘How wretchedly selfish!’ said Miss Thane in accents of disgust.

‘Yes, but I think it is not perhaps entirely Ludovic’s fault, for he said he liked to have me with him. But the others did not like it at all, in particular Ned, who wanted to hit me on the head.’

‘Is Ned a s– free-trader too?’

‘Yes, and Abel. But they are not precisely free-traders, but only land-smugglers, which is, I think, a thing inferior.’

‘It sounds quite inferior,’ said Miss Thane. ‘Did you meet your cousin Ludovic, and Ned, and Abel on your way here?’

‘Yes, and when he seized me of course I thought Ludovic was the Headless Horseman!’

Miss Thane was regarding her as one entranced. ‘Of course!’ she echoed. ‘I suppose you were expecting to meet a headless horseman?’

‘Well,’ replied Eustacie judicially, ‘my maid told me that he rides the Forest, and that one finds him up on the crupper behind one, but my cousin Tristram said that it was only a legend.’

‘The more I hear about your cousin Tristram,’ said Miss Thane, ‘the more I am convinced he is not at all the husband for you.’

‘No, and what is more he is thirty-one years old, and he does not frequent gaming-hells or cock-pits, and when I asked him if he would ride
ventre à terre
to come to my death-bed, he said “Certainly not”!’

‘This is more shocking than all the rest!’ declared Miss Thane. ‘He must be quite heartless!’

‘Yes,’ said Eustacie bitterly. ‘He says I am not in the least likely to die.’

‘A man like that,’ pronounced Miss Thane, ‘would be bound to say the Headless Horseman was only a legend.’

‘That is what I thought, but my cousin Ludovic was not after all the Headless Horseman, and I must admit that I have not yet seen him – or the Dragon which was once in the Forest.’

‘Really, you have had a very dull ride when one comes to think of it.’

‘Yes, until I met my cousin Ludovic, and after that it was not dull, because when he discovered who I was Ludovic said I must go with him, and I helped to lead the Excisemen into the Forest. He mounted behind me on Rufus, you see. That was when I lost the other bandbox.’

‘Oh, you had a bandbox?’

‘But yes, I had two, for one must be practical, you understand. But one I dropped just before I met Ludovic, and I forgot about that one. We threw the other away.’

Miss Thane bent over the fire again rather hastily. ‘I expect it was the right thing to do,’ she said in an unsteady voice.

‘Well, it was in the way,’ explained Eustacie. ‘But I must say it now becomes awkward a little because all my things were in it.’

‘Don’t let a miserable circumstance like that worry you!’ said Miss Thane. ‘I will lend you a nightdress, and to-morrow we will decide whether to go and look for the bandboxes (though I feel that would be a spiritless thing to do) or whether to break into your home at dead of night and steal some more clothes for you.’

This suggestion appealed instantly to Eustacie. While she got ready for bed she discussed with Miss Thane the various ways in which it might be possible to break into the Court. Miss Thane entered into every plan with an enthusiasm which made Eustacie say as she blew out the candle: ‘I am
very
glad I have met you. I shall tell my cousin Ludovic that he must permit you to share the adventure.’

The excitements of the night had quite worn her out, and it was not long before she fell asleep, curled up beside Miss Thane in the big four-poster.

Sarah Thane lay awake for some time. It seemed to her that she had undertaken a responsibility that would keep her well occupied during the immediate future. What would be the outcome of it all she had not the smallest idea, but she was fully determined, being entered into the adventure, to remain in it to the finish.

She was twenty-eight years old, an orphan, and for the past ten years had been living with her brother, an easy-going baronet some six or seven years her senior. Having been left in his ward, she considered, upon leaving school, that her proper place was at his side. Sir Hugh had not the least objection, so in defiance of several female relatives who one and all expressed the most complete disapproval she assumed control of the old manor-house in Gloucestershire, and when Sir Hugh took it into his head to travel (which was often) packed her trunks and went with him. For the first few years she had consented to take an elderly cousin with her as chaperon; the elderly cousin was indeed still nominally her chaperon, but she had long since ceased to accompany Sir Hugh and his sister upon their erratic journeys. For no one could deny that Sarah Thane was very well able to take care of herself, and the elderly cousin had not in the least enjoyed wandering about Europe in the wake of Sir Hugh’s vague fancy. Sarah, on the other hand enjoyed it so much that she had never yet been tempted to exchange the companionship of a brother for that of a husband.

She and Sir Hugh were, at the moment, on their way to town, having been visiting friends in the neighbourhood of Brighton. They had spent a dull fortnight, and were now intending to spend two or three months in London. Their presence at the Red Lion was attributable to two causes, the first being an incipient cold in Sir Hugh’s head, and the second the excellence of Mr Nye’s brandy. Their original intention had been to stop only for a change of horses, but by the time they had arrived at Hand Cross it had begun to snow, and Sir Hugh had sneezed twice. While the horses were being taken out of the shafts, Sir Hugh, regarding the weather with a jaundiced eye, had let down the chaise-window to call for some brandy. It had been brought to him; he had taken one sip, and announced his intention of putting up at the Red Lion for the night.

‘Just as you wish,’ had said Miss Thane, most admirable of sisters. ‘But I don’t fancy the snow will amount to much.’

‘Snow?’ said Sir Hugh. ‘Oh, the
snow
! I believe I’m going to have a demmed bad cold, Sally.’

‘Then we had better push on to London,’ said Miss Thane.

‘This brandy,’ said Sir Hugh earnestly, ‘is some of the best I’ve tasted.’

‘Oh!’ said Miss Thane, instantly comprehending the situation. ‘I see!’

That the excellence of the brandy was not a matter of interest to her was an objection she did not dream of putting forward. She was far too well used to Sir Hugh’s vagaries not to accept them with equanimity, and she had followed him into the inn, resigning herself to a spell of inaction.

From this she seemed to have been miraculously saved. Sir Hugh might not know it, but there was now small chance of his journey being resumed upon the morrow. His sister had stumbled upon an adventure which appealed forcibly to her ever-lively sense of humour, and she had no intention of abandoning it.

In the morning she awoke before Eustacie, and got up out of bed without disturbing her. As soon as she was dressed she went along the passage to her brother’s room, and found him sitting up in bed, with his night-cap on, being waited on by the tapster, who seemed to combine his calling with the duties of a general factotum. A tray piled high with dishes was placed on a table by the bed: Sir Hugh was breakfasting.

He gave his sister a sleepy smile as she entered the room, and, of habit rather than of necessity, picked up his quizzing-glass, and through it inspected a plate of grilled ham and eggs from which Clem had lifted the cover. He nodded, and Clem heaved a sigh of relief.

Miss Thane, taking in a glance the proportions of this breakfast, shook her head, and said: ‘My dear, you must be very unwell indeed! Only one plate of ham, and those few wretched slices of beef to follow! How paltry!’

Sir Hugh, accustomed like so many large men to being a butt, received this sally with unruffled placidity, and waved Clem away. The tapster went out, and Miss Thane thoughtfully handed her brother the mustard. ‘What are your engagements in town, Hugo?’

Sir Hugh reflected while masticating a mouthful of ham. ‘Have I any?’ he asked after a pause.

‘I don’t know. Should you mind remaining here for a time?’

‘Not while the Chambertin lasts,’ replied Sir Hugh simply. He consumed another mouthful, and added: ‘It’s my belief the liquor in this place never paid duty at any port.’

‘No, I think it was probably all smuggled,’ agreed Miss Thane. ‘I met a smuggler last night, when you had gone to bed.’

‘Oh, did you?’ Sir Hugh washed down the ham with a draught of ale, and emerged from the tankard to say, as a thought occurred to him: ‘You ought to be more careful. Where did you meet him?’

‘He arrived at the inn, very late, and wounded. He’s here now.’

A faint interest gleamed in Sir Hugh’s eye. He lowered his fork. ‘Did he bring anything with him?’

‘Yes, a lady,’ said Miss Thane.

‘No sense in that,’ said Sir Hugh, his interest fading. He went on eating, but added in a moment: ‘Couldn’t have been a smuggler.’

‘He is a smuggler, a nobleman, and one of the most handsome young men I have ever clapped eyes on,’ said Miss Thane. ‘Tell me now, did you ever hear of one Ludovic Lavenham?’

‘No,’ said Sir Hugh, exchanging his empty plate for one covered with slices of cold beef.

‘Are you sure, Hugo? He was used to play cards at the Cocoa-Tree – rather a wild youth, I apprehend.’

‘They fuzz the cards at the Cocoa-Tree,’ said Sir Hugh. ‘It’s full of Greeks. Foulest play in town.’

‘This boy lost a valuable ring at play there, and was afterwards accused of having shot the man he played against,’ persisted Miss Thane.

‘I was very nearly done-up myself there once,’ said Sir Hugh reminiscently. ‘Found a regular Captain Sharp at the table, thought the dice ran devilish queerly –’

‘Yes, dear, but do you remember?’

‘Of course I remember. Sent for a hammer, split the dice, and found they were up-hills, just as I’d expected.’

‘No, not that,’ said Miss Thane patiently. ‘Do you recall this other affair?’

‘What other affair?’

Miss Thane sighed, and began painstakingly to recount all that Eustacie had told her. Sir Hugh listened to her with an expression of considerable bewilderment, and at the end shook his head. ‘It sounds a demmed silly story to me,’ he said. ‘You shouldn’t talk to strangers.’

When it was conveyed to him that his sister had pledged herself to assist these strangers in whatever perilous course they might decide to adopt he at first protested as forcibly as a man of his natural indolence could be expected to, and finally begged her not to embroil him in any crazy adventure.

‘I won’t,’ promised Miss Thane. ‘But you must swear an oath of secrecy, Hugh!’

Sir Hugh laid down his knife and fork. ‘Sally, what the deuce is all this about?’ he demanded.

She laughed. ‘My dear, I’ve scarcely any more notion than you have. But I am quite sure of my clear duty, which is to chaperon the little heroine. Moreover, I admit to a slight feeling of curiosity to see the wicked cousin. I am at present at a loss to decide whether Sir Tristram Shield is the villain of the piece or merely a plain man goaded to madness.’