“Oh, there’s no harm in the Beau!” He broke off suddenly as the convoy halted, and grasped Rufus’s bridle above the bit, pulling him to a standstill. “Quiet, now!” He sat still, intently listening. Eustacie, straining her ears, caught faintly the sound of horses’ hooves in the distance. “Stay where you are!” ordered Ludovic, and went forward to the head of the train.
Eustacie, though she would have liked to have taken part in the council which was being held between the three men, thought it as well to obey. Her Cousin Ludovic seemed to be of an autocratic disposition, reminding her strongly of his grandfather.
He came back to her side after a short colloquy with the Bundys and said in his quick, authoritative way: “We shall have to try and lead these damned Excisemen off the trail. I don’t know what the devil to do with you, so you’d better come with me. After all, you wanted an adventure, and I can’t let you jaunt about the countryside alone at this hour of night.”
That a solitary journey to London might conceivably be attended by fewer dangers than a night spent hand-in-glove with a party of smugglers apparently did not occur to him. He dismounted from his pony, adding: “Besides, I want your horse.”
“Am I to ride the pony, then?” asked Eustacie, willing but dubious.
“No, I’m going to take you up before me,” he replied. “I can look after you better that way. Moreover the pony couldn’t keep up.” He gave the animal into the elder Bundy’s care as he spoke, and said: “Good luck to you, Abel. Don’t trouble your head on my account!”
“You’d best be careful,” said Mr Bundy gloomily. “You never had no sense and never will have.”
Ludovic had got up behind Eustacie by this time, and settled her in the crook of his arm. “It beats me how you can ride with a saddle like this,” he remarked, wheeling Rufus about. “And what in thunder is this thing?”
“It is a bandbox, of course!”
“Well, it’s devilishly in the way,” said Ludovic. “Do you mind if I cut it loose?”