“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 Gentlemen.”
“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 a 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 belongs 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 tonight. 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.”
“I might be able to make him, but I’ve a cousin here—a cursed, cautious, interfering cousin, who don’t mean me to make the attempt. He thinks it’s too dangerous, and it’s odds he’s persuaded Clem into seeing eye to eye with him.”
Mr Bundy scratched his nose reflectively. “One way and another, you’ve been in a lamentable deal of danger since you growed up,” he remarked.
Ludovic grinned. “I shall be in some more yet.”
“Happen you will,” agreed Bundy. “There’s some as seem to be born to it, and others as takes uncommon care of their skins. It queers me how folks manage to keep out of trouble. I never did, but I know them as has.”
“Devilish dull dogs, I’ll be bound. There may be trouble at the Dower House tonight, and for all I know there’s been a trap laid for me. Will you take the risk?”