“Well, but I must tell you that I thought of a very good plan last night,” said Eustacie. “I will marry Tristram, and then I can search in his collection for the ring.”
“You’ll do no such thing!” snapped Ludovic.
Nye said roughly: “For shame, Mr Ludovic! What’s this unaccountable nonsense? Sir Tristram’s no enemy of yours!”
“Is he not?” retorted Ludovic. “Will you tell me who, besides myself, was in the Longshaw Spinney that accursed night?”
Nye’s face darkened. “Are you saying it was Sir Tristram as did a foul murder all for the sake of a trumpery ring, my lord? Eh, you’re crazed!”
“I’m saying it was he who met me in the Spinney, he who would have given his whole collection for that same trumpery ring! Didn’t he always dislike me? Can you say he did not?”
“What I wish to say,” interrupted Miss Thane in a calm voice, “is that I want my breakfast.”
Ludovic sank back on to his pillows with a short laugh. Nye, reminded of his duty, at once led both ladies down to the parlour, apologizing as he went for there being no one but himself and Clem to wait upon them. “I’ve only my sister besides, who does the cooking,” he told them, “and a couple of ostlers, of course. We don’t get folk stopping here in the winter in the general way. Maybe it’s as well, seeing who’s under my roof, but I doubt it’s not what you’re accustomed to, ma’am.”
Miss Thane reassured him. He set a coffee-pot down on the table before her, and said gloomily: “It’s in my mind that no one in his senses would take Mr Ludovic for a groom, ma’am. If you could get him only to see reason—! But there, he never did, and I doubt he never will! As to this notion he’s taken into his head that ’tis Sir Tristram who has his ring, I never heard the like of it! It was Sir Tristram as got him out of England—ay, and in the very nick!”
“Yes, and my cousin Basil says that it was to make him a murderer confessed!” said Eustacie.