“Jeremiah Stubbs, miss,” said the Runner. “I am here in the execution of my dooty.”
Eustacie opened her eyes to their widest extent, and asked breathlessly whether he had come to make an arrest. “ How I should like to see you make an arrest!” she said.
Mr Stubbs was not impervious to flattery. He threw out his chest a little, and replied with an indulgent smile that he couldn’t say for certain whether he was going to make an arrest or not.
“But who?” demanded Eustacie. “Not someone in this inn?”
“A desprit criminal, missy, that’s the cove I’m after,” said Mr Stubbs.
Eustacie’s straining ears caught the sound of an opening door upstairs and a light footfall. She said as loudly as she dared: “I suppose you, who are a Bow Street Runner, have to capture a great many desperate criminals?” As she spoke she moved towards the fire, so that to address her Mr Stubbs had to turn slightly, presenting his profile, and no longer his full face to the staircase.
“Oh well, miss,” he said carelessly, “we don’t take much account of that!”
Eustacie caught a glimpse of Ludovic at the top of the stairs, and said quickly: “Bow Street Runners! It must be very exciting to be a Bow Street Runner, I think!” She glanced up as she spoke, and saw that Ludovic had vanished. Feeling almost sick with relief, she pressed her handkerchief to her lips, and said mechanically: “Who is this criminal, I wonder? A thief, perhaps?”
“Not a thief, miss,” said Mr Stubbs. “A murderer!”
The effect of this announcement was all he had hoped for. Eustacie gave a shriek and faltered: “Here? A m-murderer? Arrest him at once, if you please! But at once!”