The Talisman Ring

Nye came back just then and announced with a reluctant smile that Sir Tristram had succeeded in boarding the coach, in spite of all the guard’s representations to him that such high-handed proceedings were quite out of order. When asked by Ludovic if he knew what Sir Tristram meant to do, he replied in his stolid way: “I do not, sir, but you may depend upon it he’ll do what’s best. All he said to me was, I was to see you safe into your room. Myself, I’m having a truckle bed set up here, and it’ll be a mighty queer thing if anyone gets into the house without I’ll hear them. Not but what it don’t seem to me likely that anyone will try that game tonight. They’ll be waiting up at the Dower House till tomorrow in the hopes that Sam Barker will have found that plaguey ring of yours, sir.”

Miss Thane sighed. “How abominably flat it will seem to have no one breaking in any more! Really, I do not know how I am to support life once all these exciting happenings are at an end.”

Nye favoured her with a grim little smile. “By what I can make out, they ain’t ended yet, ma’am. We’ll do well to keep an eye lifted for trouble as soon as that Beau learns Barker ain’t found his quizzing-glass. I’ll be glad when I see Sir Tristram back, and that’s a fact. Now, Mr Ludovic, if you’re ready, I’ll help you get to bed. You’ll have to go down to the cellar again tomorrow, and the orders are I’m to see you into it before I unbar the doors in the morning. And what’s more, sir,” he added, forestalling Ludovic’s imminent expostulation, “I’ve orders to knock you out if you don’t go willing.”

This ferocious threat was not, however, put into execution. Ludovic descended into the cellar at an early hour on the following morning, and the rest of the party, with the exception of Sir Hugh, who was only interested in his breakfast, prepared themselves to meet whatever peril should lie in store for them. Eustacie, who thought that she had taken far too small a part in the adventure, was feeling somewhat aggrieved, Ludovic having refused without the least hesitation to lend her one of his pistols. “I never lend my pistols,” he said. “Besides, what do you want it for?”

“But to fire, of course!” replied Eustacie impatiently.

“Good God! What at?”

“Why, at anybody who tries to come into the house!” she said, opening her eyes in surprise at his stupidity. “And if you would let Sarah have one too, she could help me. After all, we may find ourselves in great danger, you know.”

“You won’t find yourselves in half such danger as you would if I let you have my pistols,” said Ludovic, with brutal candour.

This unfeeling response sent Eustacie off in a dudgeon to Miss Thane. Here at least she was sure of finding a sympathetic listener. Nor did Miss Thane disappoint her. She professed herself to be quite at a loss to understand the selfishness of men, and when she learned that Eustacie had planned for her also to fire upon possible desperadoes, she said that she could almost wish that she had not been told of the scheme, since it made her feel quite disheartened to think of it falling to the ground.

“Well, I do think we ought to be armed,” said Eustacie wistfully. “It is true that I do not know much about guns, but one has only to point them and pull the trigger, after all.”

“Exactly,” agreed Miss Thane. “I dare say we should have accounted for any number of desperate ruffians. It is wretched indeed! We shall be forced to rely upon our wits.”

But the morning passed quietly, the only excitement being provided by Gregg, who came to the inn with the ostensible object of inquiring whether Nye could let his master have a pipe of burgundy. He left his horse in the yard, and was thus able to exchange a word with Barker, who, with the fear of transportation before him, faithfully obeyed Sir Tristram’s instructions, and said that he had no chance yet to search for the quizzing-glass.

In the afternoon Sir Hugh, following his usual custom, went upstairs to enjoy a peaceful sleep. Miss Thane and Eustacie watched the Brighton mail arrive, but since it did not set Sir Tristram down at the Red Lion, their interest in it swiftly waned. They had begun to question whether they were to experience any adventures whatsoever when, to their amazement, Beau Lavenham’s chaise passed the parlour window, drew up outside the coffee-room door, and set down the Beau himself.

He alighted unhurriedly, took care to remove a speck of dust from his sleeve, and in the calmest way imaginable walked into the inn.

“Well,” said Miss Thane, “I think this passes the bounds of reasonable effrontery! Do you suppose that he has come to pay us a ceremonious visit?”

Apparently this was his purpose, for in a few minutes Nye ushered him into the parlour. He came in with his usual smile, and bowed with all his usual flourish. “Such a happiness to find you still here!” he said. “Your very obedient, ma’am!”

“If you should be needing aught, ma’am, you have only to call,” said Nye, with slow deliberation.