The Talisman Ring

The cloaked figure was moving swiftly, yet in a cautious fashion, pausing at the corner of the house to look up and down the road before venturing further. Mr Stubbs stopped too, effacing himself in the shadows, and realized, when the quarry made a dart across the road, that Mr Peabody must be enjoying a session in the tap-room, saw dimly that the unknown female (or male) was hurrying down the road under cover of the hedge, and bounced into the inn, loudly calling on Mr Peabody for support.

Mr Peabody, ever-zealous, hastened to his side, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. When he heard the glorious news, he stayed only to pick up his cudgel, and ran out with Mr Stubbs in pursuit of the fugitive.

‘It were that self-same abigail, William,’ panted Mr Stubbs. ‘All along I thought – too big for a female! There he goes!’

Hearing the sounds of heavy-footed pursuit, the figure ahead looked once over its shoulder, and then broke into a run. Mr Stubbs had no more breath to spare for speech, but Mr Peabody, a leaner man, managed to shout: ‘Halt!’

The figure ahead showed signs of flagging; the Runners, getting their second wind, began to gain upon it, and in a few moments had reached it, and grabbed at the enveloping cloak, gasping: ‘In the name of the Law!’

The figure spun round, and landed Mr Stubbs a facer that made his nose bleed.

‘Mind his pops, Jerry!’ cried Mr Peabody grappling with the foe. ‘Lordy, what a wild cat! Ah, would you, then!’

Mr Stubbs caught the figure’s left arm in a crushing grip, and panted: ‘I arrest you in the name of the Law!’

The captive said a low, breathless voice: ‘Let me go! Let me go at once!’

‘You’re coming along of us, that’s what you’re going to do,’ replied Mr Stubbs.

The sound of a horse trotting towards them made the Runners drag their captive to the side of the road. The horse and rider came into sight, and the prisoner, recognizing the rider, cried: ‘Sir Tristram, help! Help!’

The horse seemed to bound forward as under a sudden spur. The prisoner, struggling madly, shrieked again for help, and the next instant Sir Tristram was abreast of the group, and had swung himself out of the saddle. Before the Runners could explain matters, he had taken the management of the affair into his own swift and capable hands. Mr Stubbs, starting to proclaim his calling, encountered a smashing right and left which dropped him like a log, and Mr Peabody, releasing his captive and aiming a blow at Sir Tristram with his cudgel, quite failed to find his mark, and the next moment was sprawling on the road, having been neatly thrown on Sir Tristram’s hip.

Sir Tristram paid no further heed to either of them, but took a quick stride towards the cloaked figure, saying sharply: ‘Are you hurt? What in heaven’s name is the meaning of this, Miss Thane?’

‘Oh, I am bruised from head to foot!’ shuddered Miss Thane. ‘These dreadful creatures set upon me with cudgels! I shall die of the shock!’

This dramatic announcement, instead of arousing Sir Tristram’s chivalrous instincts anew, made him look penetratingly at her for one moment, and say in a voice torn between amusement and exasperation: ‘You must be out of your mind! How dared you do such a crazy thing?’

The Runners had by this time begun to pick themselves up. Mr Stubbs, cherishing his nose, seemed a little dazed, but Mr Peabody advanced heroically, and said: ‘I arrest you, Ludovic Lavenham, in the name of the Law, and it will go hard with them as seeks to interfere!’

Sir Tristram released Miss Thane’s hands, which he had been holding in a sustaining manner, and replied: ‘You fool, this is not Ludovic Lavenham! This is a lady!’

Mr Stubbs said thickly: ‘It’s the abigail. It ain’t no female.’

‘Oh, don’t let them touch me!’ implored Miss Thane, shrieking artistically towards Sir Tristram.

‘I’ve no intention of letting them touch you, but don’t get in my way,’ said Sir Tristram unromantically. ‘Now then, my man, perhaps you will tell me what the devil you mean by arresting this lady?’

‘It ain’t a lady!’ said Mr Peabody urgently. ‘He’s a desperate criminal dressed up for an abigail! No lady couldn’t fight like him!’

‘I tell you she is Sir Hugh Thane’s sister!’ said Sir Tristram. ‘Look, is this a man’s face?’ He turned as he spoke, and put back the hood from Miss Thane’s head.

The Runners peered at her doubtfully. ‘When my brother hears of this, you will be sorry!’ said Miss Thane in a tearful voice.

A look of deep foreboding stole into Mr Stubbs’s watering eyes. ‘If we’ve made a mistake –’ he began uncertainly.

‘It’s my belief it’s a plot, and they’re both in it!’ declared Mr Peabody.

‘Take me to my b

rother!’ begged Miss Thane, clinging to Sir Tristram’s arm. ‘I fear I may be going to swoon!’

Mr Stubbs looked at her over the handkerchief which he was holding to his nose. Also he looked at Sir Tristram, and rather unwisely accused him of having assaulted an officer of the Law.

‘Oh, you’re law officers, are you?’ said Sir Tristram grimly. ‘Then you may come and explain yourselves to Sir Hugh Thane. Can you walk, ma’am, or shall I carry you?’

Miss Thane declined this offer, though in a failing voice, and accepted instead the support of his arm. The whole party began to walk slowly towards the Red Lion, Sir Tristram solicitously guiding Miss Thane’s tottering steps, and Mr Peabody leading Sir Tristram’s horse.