“No, not that,” said Miss Thane patiently. “Do you recall this other affair?”
“What other affair?”
Miss Thane sighed, and began painstakingly to recount all that Eustacie had told her. Sir Hugh listened to her with an expression of considerable bewilderment, and at the end shook his head. “It sounds a demmed silly story to me,” he said. “You shouldn’t talk to strangers.”
When it was conveyed to him that his sister had pledged herself to assist these strangers in whatever perilous course they might decide to adopt he at first protested as forcibly as a man of his natural indolence could be expected to, and finally begged her not to embroil him in any crazy adventure.
“I won’t,” promised Miss Thane. “But you must swear an oath of secrecy, Hugh!”
Sir Hugh laid down his knife and fork. “Sally, what the deuce is all this about?” he demanded.
She laughed. “My dear, I’ve scarcely any more notion than you have. But I am quite sure of my clear duty, which is to chaperone the little heroine. Moreover, I admit to a slight feeling of curiosity to see the wicked cousin. I am at present at a loss to decide whether Sir Tristram Shield is the villain of the piece or merely a plain man goaded to madness.”
“Shield?” repeated Sir Hugh. “Member of Brooks’s?”
“I don’t know. Do you?”
“If he’s the man I’m thinking of he hunts with the Quorn. Bruising rider to hounds. Good man in a turn-up, too.”