They entered the inn by the door into the coffee-room, and here they were met by Eustacie, who, upon sight of Miss Thane, gave a dramatic start, and cried, ‘Bon Dieu! What has happened? Sarah, are you ill!’
Miss Thane said faintly: ‘I scarce know…Two men attacked me…’
‘Ah, she is swooning!’ exclaimed Eustacie. ‘What an outrage! What villainy!’
Miss Thane, having assured herself that Sir Tristram was close enough to catch her, closed her eyes, and sank gracefully back into his arms.
‘Hartshorn! vinegar!’ shrieked Eustacie. ‘Lay her on the settle, mon cousin !’
Nye, who had come in from the tap-room, said: ‘What! Miss Thane in a swoon? I’ll call Sir Hugh this instant!’ and strode away to the parlour.
Sir Tristram carried his fair burden to the settle, and laid her down upon it. A glance at her charming complexion was sufficient to allay any alarm he might otherwise have felt, and with his fingers over her steady pulse, he said: ‘I think we should throw water over her, my dear cousin. Cold water.’
Miss Thane’s lips parted a little. A very soft whisper reached Sir Tristram’s ears. ‘You dare!’ breathed Miss Thane.
‘Wait! I will instantly fetch the hartshorn!’ said Eustacie, and turning sharp on her heel, collided with Mr Peabody, who was anxiously peeping over her shoulder at Miss Thane’s inanimate form. ‘Brute! Imbécile!’ she stormed.
Mr Peabody stepped aside in a hurry. Having seen Miss Thane’s shapely figure in the candlelight, he was now quite sure that a mistake had been made, and the look he cast at Mr Stubbs, standing glumly in the door, was one of deep reproach.
Eustacie came running down the stairs again just as Sir Hugh walked into the coffee-room with the landlord at his heels.
‘What’s all this?’ demanded Sir Hugh. ‘Here’s Nye telling me some story about Sally fainting. She never faints!’
Sir Tristram, looking down at Miss Thane, saw a shade of annoyance in her face. His lips twitched slightly, but he answered in a grave voice: ‘I fear it is true. You may see for yourself.’
‘Well, of all the odd things!’ said Sir Hugh, surveying her through his eyeglass with vague surprise. ‘I’ve never known her to do that before.’
‘She has sustained a great shock to her nerves,’ said Shield solemnly. ‘We can only trust that she has received no serious injury.’
‘Ah, la pauvre !’ exclaimed Eustacie, enjoying herself hugely. ‘I wonder she is not dead with fright!’ She thrust her cousin out of the way as she spoke, and sank upon her knees by the settle, holding the hartshorn under Miss Thane’s nose. ‘Behold, she is recovering! C’est cela, ma chère! Doucement, alors, doucement!’ Over her shoulder she addressed Sir Hugh. ‘Those wicked men attacked her – with sticks!’ she added, observing the Runners’ cudgels.
It took a moment for Sir Hugh to assimilate this. He turned and stared at the two Runners, incredulous wrath slowly gathering in his eyes. ‘What!’ he said. ‘They attacked my sister? These gin-swilling, cross-eyed numskulls? This pair of brandy-faced, cork-brained –’
Miss Thane interrupted this swelling diatribe with a faint moan, and opened her eyes. ‘Where am I?’ she said in a weak voice.
‘Dieu soit béni!’ said Eustacie devoutly. ‘She is better!’
Miss Thane sat up, her hand to her brow. ‘Two men with sticks,’ she said gropingly. ‘They ran after me and caught me…Oh, am I safe indeed?’
‘A little brandy, ma’am?’ suggested Nye. ‘You are all shook up, and no wonder! It’s a crying scandal, that’s what it is! I never heard the like of it!’
‘Sally,’ said Sir Hugh, ‘do you tell me that these blundering jackasses set upon you?’
She followed the direction of his pointing finger, and gave a small shriek, and clutched his arm. ‘Do not let them touch me!’
‘Let them touch you?’ said Sir Hugh, a martial light in his eye. ‘They had better try!’
‘It was all a mistake, ma’am! No one don’t want to touch you!’ said Mr Peabody. ‘I am sure we never meant no harm! It was the poor light, and us not knowing you.’
‘All a matter of Dooty,’ said Mr Stubbs, still holding his handkerchief to his nose.
‘You hold your tongue!’ said Sir Hugh. ‘Sally, what happened?’
‘I scarce know,’ replied his sister. ‘I went out for a breath of air, and before I had gone above a dozen steps I heard someone running behind me, and turning, saw these two men coming for me, and waving their sticks. I tried to escape, but they caught me, and handled me so roughly that I was near to swooning away on the spot. Then, by the mercy of Providence, who should come riding by but Sir Tristram! I screamed to him for help – indeed, I thought I was to be murdered or beaten into insensibility – and he flung himself from his horse and rescued me! He knocked the fat man down, and when the other one made for him with his cudgel threw him sprawling in the road!’
‘Tristram did that?’ exclaimed Eustacie. ‘Voyons, mon cousin, I begin to like you very much indeed!’
Sir Hugh, his wrath giving place momentarily to professional interest, said: ‘Threw him a cross-buttock, did you?’