“No,” said Miss Thane, with the air of one going to the stake. “I prefer that my blood should be upon your heads.”
She spoke in jest, and certainly did not give the matter another thought, but the exchange had made an impression on Eustacie’s mind, and for the rest of the day she could scarcely bear to let Ludovic out of her sight. When Sir Tristram had gone, and Miss Thane proposed they should take their usual morning walk, she refused with such resolution that Miss Thane forbore to press the matter, but went out with her brother, leaving Eustacie keeping guard over Ludovic like a cat with one kitten.
As the day drew towards evening Eustacie’s fears became more pronounced. When the candles were lit and the blinds drawn, she persisted in hearing footsteps, and fancying some stranger to have got into the inn. She confided in Miss Thane that she was sure there was someone in the house, hiding, and insisted, in spite of his protestations that no one could have entered without his knowledge, upon Nye’s searching every nook and cranny. The house was an old and rambling one, and the boards creaked a good deal. Miss Thane, when Eustacie held up her finger for the fifth time, enjoining silence that she might listen for a fancied noise, said roundly: “A little more, and I shall be quite unable to sleep a wink all night. Now what’s amiss?”
Eustacie, drawing the curtains more closely across window, said: “There was just a crack. Someone might look in and see Ludovic. I think it will be better if I pin the curtains together.”
Sir Hugh, who was engaged upon his nightly game of piquet with Ludovic, became aware of her restlessness, and turned to look at her. “Ah!” he said. “So you don’t like the moonshine either! It’s a queer thing, but if ever I have a bad dream you may depend upon it the moon’s up. There’s another thing, too: if ever it gets into my room it wakes me. I’m glad to meet someone else who feels the same.”
No one thought it worth while to explain Eustacie’s real motive to him, so after recounting various incidents illustrative of the baneful effect of the moon upon human beings, he returned to his game, and speedily became oblivious of Eustacie’s fidgets.
Since Eustacie could not bring herself to go up to bed leaving Ludovic, quite heedless of danger, below-stairs, the piquet came to an early end, and the whole party went up to bed soon after ten o’clock. Having assured herself that the windows in Ludovic’s room were securely fastened and his pistols loaded and under his pillow, Eustacie at last consented, though reluctantly, to seek her own couch. Ludovic took her in his sound arm, and kissed her, and laughed at her fears. She said seriously: “But I am afraid. I love you so much that it seems to me very probable that you will be taken away from me. Promise me that you will lock your door and draw the bolts!”
He laid his cheek against her hair. “I’ll promise anything, sweetheart. Don’t trouble your pretty head over me! I’m not worth it.”
“To me, you are.”
“I wish I had two arms!” he sighed. “Do you know that you are marrying a ne’er-do-well?”