“Yes, but you do not understand. I was making my escape,” said Eustacie.

“Making your escape, miss?”

“Yes, and my cousin here will tell you that what I say is true. I am Mademoiselle de Vauban, and I am the granddaughter of Lord Lavenham, and he is Sir Tristram Shield.”

The Exciseman seemed to be a little impressed by this. He touched his hat to Sir Tristram, but still looked unconvinced. “Well, miss, and supposing you are, what call have you to go riding off in the night? I never heard of the Quality doing such!”

“I was running away from Sir Tristram,” said Eustacie.

“Oh!” said the Exciseman, looking more dubious than ever.

Sir Tristram stood like a rock. Miss Thane, taking one look at his outraged profile, was shaken by inward laughter, and said unsteadily: “This is a—a matter of no little delicacy, you understand?”

“I’m bound to say I don’t, ma’am,” said the Exciseman bluntly. “What for would the young lady want to run away from her cousin?”

“Because he would have forced me to marry him!” said Eustacie recklessly.

The Exciseman cast a glance of considerable respect at Sir Tristram, and said: “Well, but surely to goodness, miss—”

“My grandfather is dead, and I am quite in my cousin’s power,” announced Eustacie. “And when I was on my way here I met the smugglers. And I was naturally very much afraid, and they were too, because they fired at my groom, and wounded him, and he fell off his horse with both my bandboxes.”

Sir Tristram continued to preserve a grim silence, but at mention of the groom a slight frown knit his brows, and he looked intently at Eustacie.

“Indeed, miss?” said the Exciseman. “Then it queers me how there come to be only the tracks of one horse down the road!”

“The other horse bolted, of course,” said Eustacie. “It went back to its stable.”

“Maddened by fright,” murmured Miss Thane, and encountered a glance from Shield which spoke volumes.

“And may I inquire, miss, how you come to know that the horse went back to its stable?”

Miss Thane held Sir Tristram’s eyes with her own. “Why, Sir Tristram here has just been telling us!” she said with calm audacity. “When the riderless horse arrived at the Court he at once feared some mishap had overtaken his cousin, and set out to ride—ventre a terre—to the rescue. Is that not so, dear sir?”

Aware of one compelling pair of humorous grey eyes upon him, and one imploring pair of black ones, Sir Tristram said: “Just so, ma’am.”

The look he received from his cousin should have rewarded him. Eustacie said: “And then I must tell you that I took my poor groom up behind me on my own horse, but I did not know the way very well, and he was too faint to direct me, and so I was lost a long time in the Forest.”

The Exciseman scratched his chin. “I’ll take a look at this groom of yours, miss, if it’s all the same to you. I’m not saying I don’t believe your story, but what I do say is that ladies take queer notions into their heads when it comes to wounded men, and the late lord—begging your pardon, sir, and miss—was never one to help us officers against them pesky smugglers, any more than what most of the gentry hereabouts are!”

“Help a smuggler?” said Miss Thane in shocked accents “My good man, do you know that you are addressing the sister of a Justice of the Peace? Let me tell you that my brother, who is in the house at this moment, holds the strongest views on smugglers and smuggled goods!” This, after all, she reflected, was quite true, and ought to impress the Exciseman—provided, of course, that Sir Hugh did not take it into his head to appear suddenly and explain the nature of his views.

The Exciseman certainly seemed rather shaken. He looked uncertainly from Miss Thane to Eustacie, and said in a sulky voice that his orders were to search the house.

“Oh, they are, are they?” said Nye. “P’raps you’d like to go and tell Sir Hugh Thane yourself that you’re wishful to search his bedchamber? And him a Justice, like miss has told you! You get out of this before I lose my temper, that’s my advice to you!”

“You lay a hand on me and you’ll suffer for it, Mr Nye!” said the Exciseman, keeping a wary eye on the landlord’s massive form.

“Just a moment!” said Sir Tristram. “There is no need for all this to-do. If you suspect my cousin’s groom of being a smuggler—”

“Well, sir, we fired on one last night, and I’m ready to swear we hit him. And it can’t be denied that females is notably soft-hearted when it comes to a wounded man!”

“Possibly,” said Shield, “but I am not soft-hearted, nor am I in the habit of assisting smugglers, or any other kind of law-breaker.”

“No, sir,” said the Exciseman, abashed by Sir Tristram’s blighting tone. “I’m sure I didn’t mean—”

“If the wounded man is indeed a groom from the Court I shall recognize him,” continued Shield. “The affair can quite easily be settled by taking me to his room.”

There was one moment’s frozen silence. Sir Tristram was looking not at the Exciseman, but at Eustacie, who had turned as white as her fichu, and was staring at him in patent horror.

Nye’s voice broke the silence. “And that’s a mighty sound notion, sir!” he said deliberately. “I’ll lay your honour knows the lad as well as I do myself.”

Sir Tristram’s eyes narrowed. “Do I?” he said.

Eustacie said breathlessly: “You cannot see him! He is in a fever!”

“Never you fret, miss,” said Nye. “Sir Tristram’s not one to go blaming the lad for doing what you ordered him to, nor he won’t do anything to upset him. If you’ll come upstairs, sir, I’ll take you to him right away.”

“Begging your pardon, but I’d as lief come too,” said the Exciseman firmly.

“That’s it, Nosy, you come!” replied Nye. “No one ain’t stopping you.”

Eustacie moved swiftly to the foot of the stairs, as though she would bar the way, but before she could speak Miss Thane was at her side, and had swept her forward, up the stairs, with an arm round her waist. “Yes, my love, by all means let us go too, in case the lad should be alarmed at having to face Sir Tristram.”

“He must not see him! He must not!” whispered Eustacie, anguished

“In my back bedchamber, sir,” said Nye loudly. “I always house smugglers there to be handy for the riding-officers.”

This withering piece of sarcasm made the Exciseman say, defensively, that he was only trying to do his duty. Nye ignored him, and threw open the door of the back bedchamber, saying: “Step in, Sir Tristram: I know I needn’t warn you not to go for to startle a sick lad.”

A small, insistent hand grasped Sir Tristram’s coat-sleeve. He glanced down into Eustacie’s white face, saw in it entreaty and alarm, and shaking off her hand strode into the room.

Ludovic had raised himself on his elbow. Across the room his strained blue eyes met Shield’s hard grey ones. Shield checked for an instant on the threshold, while Miss Thane gave Eustacie’s hand a reassuring squeeze, and the Exciseman said hopefully: “Do you know him, sir?”

“Very well indeed,” replied Shield coolly. He went forward to the bed, and laid a hand on Ludovic’s shoulder. “Well, my lad, you have got yourself into trouble through this piece of folly. Lie down now: I’ll talk to you later.” He turned, addressing the Exciseman: “I can vouch for this fellow. He does not look very like a smuggler, do you think?”

“No, sir, I’m bound to say he don’t,” said the Exciseman slowly, staring at Ludovic. “I’d say he looked uncommon like the old Lord—from what I remember. It’s the nose. It ain’t a nose one forgets, somehow.”

“It is a nose often seen in these parts,” said Sir Tristram with dry significance.

The Exciseman blinked at him for a moment, and then, as light broke in on him, said hurriedly: “Oh, that’s the way it is! I beg pardon, I’m sure! No offence meant! If you can vouch for the young fellow of course I ain’t got no more to say, sir.”

“Then if you ain’t got no more to say you can take yourself off!” said Nye, thrusting him out of the room. “It don’t do the house any good having your kind in it. Next you’ll be telling me I’ve got smuggled liquor in my cellar!”

“And so you have!” rejoined the Exciseman immediately.

The door closed behind them; those in the little chamber could hear the altercation gradually growing fainter as Nye shepherded his unwelcome guest down the stairs.

No one moved or spoke until the voices had died away. Then Eustacie caught Sir Tristram’s hand, and pressed it to her cheek, saying simply: “I will do anything you wish. I will even marry you!”

“Oh no, you will not!” exploded Ludovic, struggling to sit up. “If this last don’t beat all! What the devil did you mean by telling that long-nosed tidesman that I’m one of Sylvester’s by-blows?”

“But no, Ludovic, no! I find that was very clever of him!” protested Eustacie. “Did you not think so, Sarah?”

Miss Thane said gravely: “I’m lost in admiration of so quick a wit. You never told me he was such an excellent conspirator.”

“Well, truly I did not think that he would be,” confessed Eustacie.

Sir Tristram, ignoring this interchange, said: “In God’s name, Ludovic, what are you doing here?”

“Free trading,” replied Ludovic, with complete sangfroid.

Shield’s face darkened. “Are you jesting?”

“No, no, he really is a smuggler, Cousin Tristram!” said Eustacie earnestly. “It is very romantic, I think. Do not you?”

“No, I do not!” said Shield. “Hasn’t your name been smirched enough, you young fool? Smuggling! And you can lie there and blandly tell me of it!”