“At first,” confessed Eustacie, “I was entirely bouleversée, and quite unable to speak. Then Sarah frowned at me, and I thought it would be better to remain silent. I thought the Runner was one of Basil’s men, did not you, Sarah?”
“Yes, I did at first,” replied Miss Thane. “But when he picked up the glass I knew Sir Tristram must be at the back of it. Is Ludovic safe now? Will he be able to take his place in the world again?”
“Yes, there can be no doubt of that. Basil lost his head, and his attempt to dispose of the ring was a complete betrayal. How do you feel, Miss Thane?”
“Very uneasy,” she replied. “I believe there is a lump on my forehead.”
“It is already much less pronounced than it was,” said Sir Tristram consolingly.
Miss Thane regarded him with misgiving. “Tell me at once, have I a black eye?” she said.
“No, not yet.”
She gave a shriek. “Not yet? Do you mean that I shall have one?”
“I should think it highly probable,” he said, a laugh in his voice.
“Bring me the hartshorn!” begged Miss Thane in failing accents, and once more closing her eyes.