“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—”