The landlord took an involuntary step backward.
“Miss, have you gone mad?”
“No!” sobbed Eustacie.
He looked incredulously out into the moonlight, but when he saw the sagging figure on Rufus’s back he gave an exclamation of horror, thrust his lantern into Eustacie’s hand, and strode out. He was a big man, with mighty muscles, and he lifted Ludovic down from the saddle with surprising ease, and carried him into the inn, and lowered him on to a wooden settle by the fireplace. “My God, what’s come to him? What’s he doing here?” he demanded under his breath.
“An Exciseman shot him. Oh, do you think he will die?”
“Die! No! But if he’s found here—!” He broke off. “I must get that horse stabled and out of sight. Stay you here, miss, and don’t touch him! Lordy, lordy, this is a pretty kettle of fish!” He took a taper from the high mantelpiece, kindled it at the lantern’s flame, and gave it to Eustacie. “Do you light them candles, miss, and keep as quiet as you can! I’ve people putting up in the house.” He took up the lantern as he spoke and went out of the inn, softly closing the door behind him.
A branch of half-burned candles was standing on the table. Eustacie lit them, and turned to look fearfully down at her cousin.
He was lying with one arm hanging over the edge of the settle, and his face alarmingly pale. Not knowing what to do for him, she sank down on her knees beside him and lifted his dangling hand, and held it between her own. For the first time she was able to see him clearly; she thought that had she met him in daylight she must have known him for a Lavenham, for here was Sylvester’s hawk-nose and humorous mouth, softened indeed by youth but unmistakable. He was lean and long-limbed, taller than Sylvester had been, but with the same slender hands and arched feet, and the same cleft in his wilful chin.
He seemed to Eustacie scarcely to breathe; she laid his arm across his chest and loosened the handkerchief about his neck. “Oh, please, Cousin Ludovic, don’t die!” she begged.
She heard a slight movement on the stairs behind her, and, turning her head, beheld a tall woman in a dressing-gown standing on the top step with a candle in her hand, looking down at her. She sprang up and stood as though defending the unconscious Ludovic, staring up at the newcomer in a challenging way.