“You recount to me a history of the most entertaining,” said Eustacie, with painstaking civility. “I expect you would be very glad to know that Ludovic—I name names, me—had gone abroad.”
“Very glad,” replied the Beau sweetly. “I should be much distressed if he brought any more disgrace on the family by ending his career on the scaffold. And that, my dear Eustacie, is what he will do if ever he falls into the hands of the Law.”
“But I find you inexplicable!” said Eustacie. “I thought you at least believed him to be innocent.”
He shrugged. “Certainly, but his unfortunate flight, coupled with the disappearance of the talisman ring which was at the root of all the trouble, will always make it impossible for him to prove his innocence.” He put the tips of his fingers together, and over them surveyed Eustacie. “It is very disagreeable to be a hunted man, you know. It would be much better to have it given out that one had died—abroad. I am anxious to be of what assistance I can. If I had proof that my cousin Ludovic was no more, I would gladly engage to provide—well, let us say a man who looked like my cousin Ludovic but bore another name—to provide this man, then, with an allowance I believe he would not consider ungenerous.” He stopped and took a pinch of snuff.
“I ask myself,” said Eustacie meditatively, “why you should wish to overwhelm Ludovic with your generosity. It is to me not at all easy to understand.”
“Ah, that is not clever of you, dear cousin,” he replied. “Surely you must perceive the disadvantages of my situation?”
“But yes, very clearly,” said Eustacie, with disconcerting alacrity.
“Precisely,” smiled the Beau. “Of course, were there but the slimmest chance of Ludovic’s being able to prove his innocence, it would be another matter. But there is no such chance, Eustacie, and I should be a very odd sort of a creature if I did not look forward with misgiving to an indefinite number of years spent in waiting beside a vacant throne.”
“A vacant throne?” suddenly said Miss Thane, raising her head from the book she had taken up. “Oh, are you speaking of the murder of the French King? I was never more shocked in my life than when I heard the news of it!”
The Beau paid no heed to her. His eyes still rested on Eustacie; he said pensively: “One may live very comfortably on the Continent, I believe. You, for instance, would like it excessively, I dare say.”