The Talisman Ring by Georgette Heyer
This request was so much in accordance with the Runners’ own wishes that they both looked hopefully at Sir Hugh, and gave him to understand that if he cared to order them back to London, they would be glad to obey him. The day’s disasters had succeeded in convincing them that their errand was futile; and their main concern now was not to arrest a fugitive from the Law but to induce Sir Hugh to refrain from complaining of them to his friend, Sampson Wright. They were not drunk, and their motives had been of the purest, but against the testimony of Sir Hugh, and his sister, and Sir Tristram, and the landlord, they did not feel that they had any hope of being attended to in Bow Street.
Somewhat to their surprise, Miss Thane came to their support, saying magnanimously that for her part she was ready to let the matter rest.
‘Wright ought to know of it,’ said Sir Hugh, shaking his head.
‘Very true, but you forget that they have been punished already for their stupidity. Sir Tristram was very rough with them, you know.’
Sir Hugh was slightly mollified by this reflection. After telling the Runners that he hoped it would be a lesson to them, and warning them that if he ever caught sight of their faces again within the portals of the Red Lion it would be the worse for them, he waved them away. They assured him they would go back to London by the night mail, and with renewed apologies to Miss Thane, bowed themselves out of the inn as fast as they could.
‘Well, now that they’ve taken themselves off,’ said Nye, ‘I’ll go and let Mr Ludovic out of the cellar.’
Sir Hugh was not at the moment interested in Ludovic’s release. He was regarding Shield in a puzzled way, and as soon as the landlord had left the room, accompanied by Eustacie, said: ‘I dare say Sally knows what she’s about, but I don’t think you should appoint her to meet you like that. It’s not at all the thing. Besides, there’s no sense in it. If you want to see her, you can do it here, can’t you? I’ve no objection.’
‘I fear you can have no romantic leanings,’ said Shield, before Miss Thane could speak. ‘A star-lit sky, the balmy night breezes–’
‘But this is February! The breeze isn’t balmy at all – in fact, there’s been a demmed north wind blowing all day,’ pointed out Sir Hugh.
‘To persons deep in love,’ said Sir Tristram soulfully, ‘any breeze is balmy.’
‘Hateful wretch!’ said Miss Thane, with deep feeling, ‘Pay no heed to him, Hugh! Of course, I did not go to meet him!’
Sir Tristram appeared to be overcome. ‘You play fast and loose with me,’ he said reproachfully. ‘You have dashed my hopes to the ground, shattered my self-esteem –’
‘If you say another word, I’ll box your ears!’ threatened Miss Thane.
Sir Hugh shook his head at her in mild disapproval. ‘I see what it is: you’ve been flirting again,’ he said.
‘Don’t be so vulgar!’ implored Miss Thane. ‘There’s not a word of truth in it! I went out merely to trick the Runners. Sir Tristram’s arrival was quite by chance.’
‘But you told me –’
‘The truth is that you stumbled upon a secret romance, Thane,’ said Sir Tristram, with a great air of candour.
Thane looked from Sir Tristram’s imperturbable countenance to his sister’s indignant one, and gave it up. ‘I suppose it’s all a hum,’ he remarked. ‘Are you coming into the parlour? There’s a devilish draught here.’
‘Presently,’ replied Sir Tristram, detaining Miss Thane by the simple expedient of stretching out his hand and grasping her wrist.
She submitted to this, and when her brother had gone back to the parlour, said: ‘I suppose I deserved that.’
‘Certainly you did,’ agreed Sir Tristram, releasing her. ‘You would have been well served had I really thrown cold water over you. Are you at all hurt?’
‘Oh no, merely a bruise or two! Your intervention was most timely.’
‘And if I had not happened to have been there?’
‘I should have allowed them to drag me back here, of course, and fainted in Hugh’s arms instead of yours.’
He smiled a little, but only said: ‘You shouldn’t have done it.’
‘Oh, perhaps it was not, as Eustacie would say, quite convenable,’ she replied, ‘but you will admit that it has rid us of grave danger.’
‘You might have been badly hurt,’ he answered.
‘Well, I was not badly hurt, so we shall not consider that.’
At this moment Ludovic strolled into the room, and slid his sound arm round Miss Thane’s waist, and kissed her cheek. ‘Sally, I swear you’re an angel!’ he declared.
‘Anything less angelic than her conduct during the past half-hour I have yet to see,’ observed Sir Tristram. ‘An accomplished liar would be nearer the mark.’
‘Quant à ça, you also told lies,’ said Eustacie. ‘You pretended to be in love with her: you know you did!’
‘Did he?’ said Ludovic. ‘Perhaps he is in love with her. I vow I am!’
‘Cream-pot love, my child,’ interposed Miss Thane composedly. ‘You are pleased with me for having rid you of those Runners. And now that they have gone, when shall we break into the Dower House?’
‘Rid your mind of the notion that you are to make one of that party,’ said Shield. ‘Neither you nor Eustacie will come with us – if we go at all.’
‘Hey, what’s this?’ demanded Ludovic. ‘Of course we shall go!’
Miss Thane looked at Shield with a humorous gleam in her eyes. ‘Now pray do not tell me that after all the trouble I have been put to to remove the bars of our adventure we are not to have any adventure!’
‘I think you are likely to have all the adventure you could desire without going to Dower House to look for it,’ replied Shield. ‘I fancy the Beau’s suspicions will not be as easily allayed as the Runners’ were.’
‘Well, if Basil comes spying after me himself, we shall see some sport,’ said Ludovic cheerfully. ‘I wish you will discover when he means to go to town, Tristram.’
This was not a difficult task to accomplish, for the Beau, paying a friendly call upon his cousin that evening after dinner, volunteered the information quite unprompted. He wandered into the library at the Court, a vision of pearl-grey and salmon-pink, and smiled sweetly at Shield, lounging on the sofa by the fire.
Shield greeted him unemotionally, and nodded towards a chair. ‘Sit down, Basil: I’m glad to see you.’
The Beau raised his brows rather quizzically. ‘My dear Tristram, how unexpected!’
‘Yes,’ said Shield, ‘I’ve no doubt it is. I feel you should be told of an excessively odd circumstance. Are you aware that there have been a couple of Bow Street Runners in the neighbourhood, searching for Ludovic?’
For a moment the Beau made no reply. The smile still lingered on his lips, but an arrested expression stole into his eyes, as though he found such direct methods of warfare disconcerting. He drew up a chair to the fire and sat down in it, and said: ‘For Ludovic? Surely you must be mistaken? Ludovic is not in Sussex, is he?’
‘Not that I am aware of,’ replied Sir Tristram coolly, ‘but from what I could make out from the Runners someone has started a rumour that Eustacie’s smuggler was he.’
The Beau opened his snuff-box. ‘Absurd!’ he murmured. ‘If Ludovic were in Sussex, he must have sent me word.’
‘That is what I thought,’ agreed Shield. ‘You are quite sure he has not sent you word?’
The Beau was in the act of raising a pinch of snuff to his nostrils, but he paused and looked across at his cousin with a slight frown. ‘Certainly not,’ he answered.
‘Oh, you need not be afraid to tell me if you have heard from him,’ said Sir Tristram. ‘I wish the boy no harm. But if the rumour should be true, after all, you would be wise to get him out of the country again.’
The Beau did
‘I am happy to hear you say so. What is your errand to me?’
‘Oh, quite a trifling one, my dear fellow! It is merely that I find myself obliged to go to London on a matter of stern necessity to-morrow – my new coat, you know: it sags across the shoulders: the most lamentable business! – and it occurred to me that you might wish to charge me with a commission.’
‘Why, that is very good of you, Basil, but I believe I need not trouble you. I expect to leave this place almost any day now.’
‘Oh?’ The Beau regarded him thoughtfully. ‘I infer then that Eustacie is also leaving this place?’
Sir Tristram replied curtly. ‘I believe so. Shall you be in London for many days? Do you mean to return here?’
‘Why, yes, I think so. I shall remain in town for a night only, I trust. I have given the servants leave to absent themselves for no longer. Ah, and that reminds me, Tristram! I wish you will desire that fellow – now, what is the name of Sylvester’s carpenter? Oh, Johnston! – yes, I wish you will desire him to call at the Dower House some time. My man tells me the bolt is off one of the library windows. He might attend to it, perhaps.’
‘Certainly,’ said Shield impassively. But when his cousin presently went away, he looked after him with a faint smile on his lips, and said: ‘How very clumsy, to be sure!’
Ludovic, however, when the encounter was described to him on the following morning, exclaimed, with characteristic impetuosity: ‘Then to-night is our opportunity! We have gammoned the Beau!’
‘He seems to have been equally fortunate,’ said Shield dryly.
Ludovic cocked an intelligent eyebrow. ‘Now what might you mean by that?’ he inquired.
‘Not quite equally,’ said Miss Thane, with a smile.
‘No,’ admitted Shield. ‘He did underrate me a trifle.’
Ludovic perched on the edge of the table, swinging one leg. ‘Oh, so you think it’s a trap, do you? Nonsense! Why should you? He can never have had more than a suspicion of my being here, and you may depend upon it we have convinced him that he was mistaken.’
‘I do not depend upon anything of the kind,’ replied Shield. ‘In fact, I am astonished at the crudity of this trap. Consider a moment, Ludovic! He has told me that he will be in London to-night, that he has given the servants leave of absence, and that the bolt is off one of the library windows. If you are fool enough to swallow that, at least give me credit for having more common sense!’
‘Oh well!’ said Ludovic airily. ‘One must take a risk now and again, after all. Basil daren’t lay a trap for me in his own house. Damn it, man, he can’t take me prisoner and hand me over to the Law! It wouldn’t look well at all.’
‘Certainly not,’ answered Sir Tristram. ‘I have no fear of Basil himself coming into the open, but you are forgetting that he has a very able deputy in the shape of that valet of his. If his servants were to catch you in the Dower House, and hand you over to the Law as a common thief, you would be identified, and beyond any man’s help while Basil was still discreetly in London. He would dispose of you without incurring the least censure from anyone.’
‘Well, they may try and take me prisoner if they like,’ said Ludovic. ‘It’ll go hard with them if they do.’
Miss Thane regarded him in some amusement. ‘Yes, Ludovic, but it will make everything very awkward if you are to leave a trail of corpses in your wake,’ she pointed out. ‘I cannot help feeling that Sir Tristram is right. He is one of those disagreeable people who nearly always are.’
Ludovic thrust out his chin a little. ‘I’m going to take a look in that priest’s hole if I die for it!’ he said.
‘If you go, you’ll go alone, Ludovic,’ said Sir Tristram.
Ludovic’s eyes flashed. ‘Ratting, eh? I’ll get Clem in your stead.’
‘You may take it from me that Clem won’t go with you on this venture,’ replied Sir Tristram.
‘Oh, you’ve been working on him, have you? Damn you, Tristram, I must find the ring!’
‘You won’t do it that way. It’s to run your head into a noose. You’ve a better hope than this slender chance of finding the ring in a priest’s hole.’
‘What is it?’ Ludovic said impatiently.
‘Basil’s valet,’ replied Shield. ‘He lodged the information against you. I judge him to be fairly deep in Basil’s confidence. How deep I don’t know, but I’m doing what I can to find out.’
‘I dare say he is, but what’s the odds? Depend upon it, he’s paid to keep the Beau’s secrets. Slimy rogue,’ Ludovic added gloomily.
‘No doubt,’ agreed Shield. ‘So I have set Kettering to work on him. If he knows anything, you may outbid Basil.’
‘Who is Kettering?’ interrupted Miss Thane. ‘I must have everything made clear.’
‘Kettering is the head groom at the Court, and one of Ludovic’s adherents. His son works for the Beau, and he is on good terms with the servants at the Dower House. If he can put it into Gregg’s head that I am collecting evidence that will make things look ugly for Basil, we may find it quite an easy matter to induce the fellow to talk. Have patience, Ludovic!’
‘Oh, you’re as cautious as any old woman!’ said Ludovic. ‘Only let me set foot in the Dower House –’
‘You may believe that I am too much your friend to let you do anything of the kind,’ said Sir Tristram, with finality.
Eleven
Ludovic, knowing his cousin too well to attempt to argue with him once his mind was made up, said no more in support of his own plan, but left Miss Thane to entertain Shield while he went off to try his powers of persuasion upon the hapless Clem. Quite forgetting that he must not run the risk of being seen by any stranger, he walked into the tap-room, saying: ‘Clem, are you here? I want you!’
Clem was nowhere to be seen, but just as Ludovic was about to go away again, the door on to the road opened, and a thick-set man in a suit of fustian walked into the inn. Ludovic took one look at him, and ejaculated: ‘Abel!’
Mr Bundy shut the door behind him, and nodded. ‘I had word you was here,’ he remarked.
Ludovic cast a quick glance towards the door leading to the kitchen quarters, where he judged Clem to be, and grasped Bundy by one wrist. ‘Does Nye know you’re here?’ he asked softly.
‘No,’ replied Bundy. ‘Not yet he don’t, but I’m wishful to have a word with him.’
‘You’re going to have a word with me,’ said Ludovic. ‘I don’t want Nye to know you’re here. Come up to my bedchamber!’
‘Adone-do, sir!’ expostulated Bundy, standing fast. ‘You know, surelye, what I’ve come for. I’ve a dunnamany kegs of brandy waiting to be delivered here so soon as Nye gives the word.’
‘He won’t dare give it yet; the house is full. I’ve other work for you to do.’
Bundy looked him over. ‘Are you joining Dickson on board the Saucy Annie again?’ he inquired.
‘No; my grandfather’s dead,’ said Ludovic.
‘He’ll be a loss,’ remarked Bundy thoughtfully. ‘Howsever, if you’re giving up the smuggling lay, I’m tedious glad. What might you be wanting me to do?’
‘Come upstairs, and I’ll tell you,’ said Ludovic.
As good luck would have it, there was no one in the coffee-room. Ludovic led Bundy through it and up the stairs to the front bedchamber which had once been Miss Thane’s. It still smelled faintly exotic, a circu
Ludovic paid no heed to this sapient remark, but having locked the door, just in case Sir Tristram should take it into his head to come up to see him again before he left the inn, thrust Bundy towards a chair, and told him to sit down. ‘Abel, you know why I took to smuggling, don’t you?’ he asked abruptly.
Mr Bundy laid his hat on the floor beside him, and nodded.
‘Well, understand this!’ said Ludovic. ‘I didn’t commit that murder.’
‘Oh?’ said Bundy, not particularly interested. He added after a moment’s reflection: ‘Happen you’ll have to prove that if you’m wishful to take the old lord’s place.’
‘That’s what I mean to do,’ replied Ludovic. ‘And you are going to help me.’
‘I’m agreeable,’ said Bundy. ‘They do tell me we shall have that cousin of yourn up at the Court, him they call the Beau. It would be unaccountable bad for the Trade if that come about. He’ll give no aid to the Gentleman.’
‘You won’t have the Beau at the Court if you help me to prove it was he committed the murder I was charged with,’ said Ludovic.
Mr Bundy looked rather pleased. ‘That’s rare good notion,’ he approved. ‘Have him put away quiet same like he’d be glad to do to you. How will we set about it?’
‘I believe him to have in his possession a ring which belonged to me,’ Ludovic answered. ‘I haven’t time to explain it all to you now, but if I can find that ring, I can prove I was innocent of Plunkett’s death. I want a man to help me break into my cousin’s house to-night. You see how it is with me: that damned riding-officer winged me.’
‘Ay, I heard he had,’ said Bundy. ‘I told you you shouldn’t ought to have come.’ He looked ruminatingly at Ludovic. ‘I don’t know as I rightly understand what you’m about. Milling kens ain’t my lay. Seems to me you’d have taken Clem along o’ you – if he’d have gone.’