He met her questioning look thoughtfully, and after a moment said: “I may be wrong, but I believe so. There is a good deal at stake.” He tapped his riding whip against his top-boot. “It all turns on the talisman ring,” he said seriously. “Whoever has that is the man who shot Plunkett. I must cultivate a more intimate acquaintance with the Beau.”
He took his leave of her and went out, calling for his horse to be brought round. Miss Thane saw him ride away, and went slowly back to her patient.
Had it been possible to have sent for a surgeon to attend Ludovic, cupping would certainly have been prescribed. Miss Thane was a little anxious lest serious fever should set in, but both Shield and the landlord maintained that Ludovic had a strong enough constitution to weather worse things than a mere wound in his shoulder, and after a couple of days she was bound to acknowledge that they were right. The wound began to heal just as it should, and the patient announced his intention of leaving his sickbed. This perilous resolve was frustrated by Shield, who, though he visited the Red Lion every day, omitted to bring with him the raiment he had promised to procure from Ludovic’s abandoned wardrobe at the Court.
While Ludovic lay in the back bedchamber, either playing piquet with his cousin or evolving plans for the recovery of his ring, Sir Hugh Thane continued to occupy one of the front rooms. His cold really had been a great deal worse on the morning of Shield’s first visit, and once having gained a hold on the unfortunate baronet, it ran the whole gamut of sore throat, thick head, watering eyes, loss of taste, and ended up with a cough on the chest which Sarah, with unwonted solicitude, declared to be bad enough to lead (if great care were not taken) to an inflammation of the lungs.
It was not, therefore, in the least difficult to persuade Sir Hugh to keep his room. His only complaint was that he was without his valet, this indispensable person having gone to London in advance of his master with the major part of the baggage and Sarah’s abigail. It took all Sarah’s ingenuity to think out enough plausible reasons for not summoning Satchell to his master’s sickbed. Satchell had been in Sir Hugh’s employment for some years, but Miss Thane did not feel that he could be trusted with the secret of Ludovic’s presence at the Red Lion. Luckily Clem proved himself a deft attendant, and beyond remarking two or three times a day that he wished he had Satchell with him, Sir Hugh made no complaint. He accepted Sarah’s story of the heiress fleeing from a distasteful marriage. It was doubtful whether the original tale of Ludovic’s misfortunes occupied any place in his erratic memory, but he did once ask his sister whether she had not mentioned having met a smuggler. She admitted it, but said that he had left the inn.
“Oh!” said Sir Hugh. “A pity. If you should see him again, you might let me know.”
What Sir Tristram Shield told Beau Lavenham the ladies did not know, but it brought him over to Hand Cross within two days. He came in his elegant chaise, a graceful affair slung on swan-neck perches, and upholstered with squabs of pale blue. He was ushered into the parlour, where Miss Thane and Eustacie were sitting, early one afternoon, and was greeted by his cousin with a baleful stare.
He had discarded his fur-lined cloak in the coffee-room, so that all the glory of his primrose pantaloons and lilac-striped coat burst upon Miss Thane without warning. He wore the fashionable short boot, and bunches of ribbons at the ends of his pantaloons; his cravat was monstrous, his coat collar very high at the back, and he carried a tall sugarloaf hat in his hand. He paused in the doorway and lifted his ornate quizzing-glass, smiling. “So here we have the little runaway!” he said. “My dear cousin, all my felicitations! Poor, poor Tristram!”
“I do not know why you have come here,” responded Eustacie, “but I do not at all wish to see you. It is my cousin, Sarah. This is my friend, Miss Thane, Basil.”
He bowed, a hand on his heart. “Ah yes, the—er—acquaintance of Paris days, I believe. What a singularly happy chance it was that brought you to this unlikely spot, ma’am!”