The Talisman Ring Read Online Free PDF

estate will be in ward when I die, and I have not made him a trustee!’
    ‘Then you are doing him an injustice, sir. Who are your trustees?’
    ‘My lawyer, Pickering, and yourself,’ answered Sylvester.
    ‘Good God, what induced you to name me?’ said Shield. ‘I have not the smallest desire to manage your affairs!’
    ‘I trust you, and I don’t trust him,’ said Sylvester. ‘Moreover,’ he added with a spark of malice, ‘I’ve a fancy to make you run in my harness even if I can only do it by dying. Pour me out a little of that cordial.’
    Sir Tristram obeyed his behest, and held the glass to Sylvester’s lips. Perversely, Sylvester chose to hold it himself, but it was apparent that even this slight effort was almost too great a tax on his strength.
    ‘Weak as a cat!’ he complained, letting Shield take the glass again. ‘You’d better go downstairs before that fellow has time to poison Eustacie’s mind. I’ll have you married in this very room just as soon as I can get the parson here. Send Jarvis to me; I’m tired.’
    When Sir Tristram reached the drawing-room again the tea-table had been brought in. Beau Lavenham inquired after his great-uncle, and upon Sir Tristram’s saying that he found him very much weaker, shrugged slightly, and said: ‘I shall believe Sylvester is dead when I see him in his coffin. I hope you did not forget to tell him that I am dutifully in attendance?’
    ‘He knows you are here,’ said Shield, taking a cup and saucer from Eustacie, ‘but I doubt whether he has strength enough to see any more visitors to-night.’
    ‘My dear Tristram, are you trying to be tactful?’ inquired the Beau, amused. ‘I am quite sure Sylvester said that he would be damned if he would see that frippery fellow Basil.
    ‘No, no; it cannot be my taste in dress which makes him dislike me so much, for that is almost impeccable,’ said the Beau, lovingly smoothing a wrinkle from his satin sleeve. ‘I can only think that it is because I stand next in the succession to poor Ludovic, and that is really no fault of mine.’
    ‘For all we know you may be further removed than that,’ said Tristram. ‘Ludovic may be married by now.’
    ‘Very true,’ agreed the Beau, sipping his tea. ‘And in some ways a son of Ludovic’s might best solve the vexed question of who is to reign in Sylvester’s stead.’
    ‘The estate is left in trust.’
    ‘From your gloomy expression, Tristram, I infer that you are one of the trustees,’ remarked the Beau. ‘Am I right?’
    ‘Oh yes, you’re right. Pickering is joined with me. I told Sylvester he should have named you.’
    ‘You are too modest, my dear fellow. He could not have made a better choice.’
    ‘I am not modest,’ replied Shield. ‘I don’t want the charge of another man’s estate; that is all.’
    The Beau laughed, and setting down his tea-cup turned to Eustacie. ‘It has occurred to me that I am here merely in the rôle of chaperon to a betrothed couple,’ he said. ‘I do not feel that I am cut out for such a rôle, so I shall go away now. Dear cousin! –’ He raised her hand to his lips. ‘Tristram, my felicitations. If we do not meet before we shall certainly meet at Sylvester’s funeral.’
    There was a short silence after he had gone. Sir Tristram snuffed a candle which was guttering, and glanced down at Eustacie, sitting still and apparently pensive by the fire. As though aware of his look, she raised her eyes and gazed at him in the intent, considering way which was so peculiarly her own.
    ‘Sylvester wants to see us married before he dies,’ Shield said.
    ‘Basil does not think he will die.’
    ‘I believe he is nearer to it than we know. What did the doctor say?’
    ‘He said he was very irreligious, and altogether insupportable,’ replied Eustacie literally.
    Sir Tristram laughed, surprising his cousin, who had not imagined that his countenance could lighten so suddenly. ‘I dare say he might, but was that all he