Cale shook his head; but Tom was resolute. He had fallen under the
spell of the so-called Lord Claud's personality--like many another
before him--and whatever the upshot of the matter might be, he was
going to accept the invitation accorded him, and visit that
personage in his lodgings.
"Have a care, lad, have a care," advised the little perruquier.
"All is not gold that glitters; and many a fine lad has been led to
his ruin ere now by following some headlong fancy of his own."
"I will be careful," answered Tom, with the careless confidence of
inexperience. "Did I not come back last night with nothing spent
save the price of the theatre and my coffee and supper? You said
yourself I had done well. So give me now ten guineas, and I will be
gone; for I was told to be early."
Tom had no difficulty, once he had reached the Mall, in finding
Lord Claud's rooms; for everybody knew where they were situated,
and looked with some respect upon Tom for inquiring. He was
received at the door by a very fine lackey, and taken up a wide
staircase, so richly carpeted that the footfall could not be heard
upon it. Everywhere his eyes rested upon strange and costly
products of foreign lands, such as he had never dreamed of
heretofore. Later on he learned that Lord Claud had won this
sumptuous suite of rooms from a rich young nobleman at the gaming
table, and had stepped into its luxury and collected treasures with
never an effort on his part. It was the fashion of the day to stake
house and lands, wealth, and even honour, upon the cast of the dice
or the fall of the cards; but that Tom did not yet know.
He followed the servant into a large and lofty bedchamber, the like
of which he had never seen before. He could have spent an hour in
examining all the rich and curious things it contained; but a voice
hailed him from the bed, and there lay Lord Claud, in a nest of
snowy pillows, his golden head and fair complexion giving him an
almost girlish aspect, albeit the square set of the jaw and the
peculiarly penetrating glance of the dark-blue eyes robbed the face
of any charge of effeminacy.
He was clad in a sort of dressing jacket of silk and lace, fine
enough for any lady; and the bed was draped in silk from the
Indies, worked in a fashion that set Tom agape. A few volumes of
poetry, half a dozen letters, scented and delicately twisted, and a
silver salver bearing an empty cup stood beside him. His servant
removed this latter, and at a sign from his master withdrew; and
Tom was motioned to take the lounging chair which stood beside the
bed, and from the recesses of which he could watch Lord Claud, as
he did, with a sense of fascination.
"Early afoot, in sooth, my young spark from the country! Ah, it is
a fine habit, that of early rising. I practised it once myself, so
I speak with authority. But what would you in this Babylon? And, i'
faith, what is there to do before the afternoon to tempt a man from
his couch? I have scarce had four hours' sleep as it is. There was
no getting away from my Lady Betty's reception last night. Egad, I
believe that fair votary of the Graces ruins more young bloods than
any sharper in the town! Have a care of your guineas, my young
friend, if ever you find yourself sitting down to the card table
with her!"
"That is not likely," answered Tom modestly. "I am but the son of a
country squire. I have come to London to see somewhat of the life
there; but I look not to consort with the fashionable ones of the
earth."
"We shall see, we shall see. A golden key opens all doors--at
least, nearly all. And you have not come empty-handed from home, I
warrant. And that reminds me of your words of yesterday. You bring
me a message from my quondam friend, Captain Jack. I would hear
news of him; so tell me all the tale."
Tom told the tale simply enough, and Lord Claud listened with
unaffected interest, nodding his head once or twice at hearing the
terms of the message delivered for himself.
"Ah, good Captain Jack! So he is still in the free forest! Well,
well, well, perhaps he has chosen the better part. There be times
when I look back at the old free life of peril and adventure, and
my soul sickens at the weary round I see day by day. Who knows but
the time may come when I will break these gossamer bonds! Ah, I
might do worse--I might do worse--ere my youth and courage are
fooled and squandered away."
He seemed almost to have forgotten that he had a listener, and to
be musing aloud; but, catching the wondering glance of Tom's eyes,
he recollected himself with a smile, and stretching out a white yet
muscular hand, he said, with an air of winning grace:
"My young friend, I have taken a liking to you. I like you because
you bring to my jaded senses a whiff of the free air of field and
forest, as well as a message from one to whom I owe much. I am sick
to death of the inanities of the dandies and fops of the town.
Shall we be friends and comrades, good Tom? I trow you might do
worse than make your Mentor of me--little though I look the part of
the preceptor of Telemachus!"
Tom could scarce believe his ears at this proposition; he blushed
and stammered almost as though it were some fair lady wooing him to
friendship. Lord Claud laughed at his embarrassment, and presently,
taking up one of the notes beside him, threw it across to Tom,
saying:
"Read that, my young friend; I have a reason just at this moment
why I would fain have a trusty friend beside me. What! thou canst
not make sense of the jargon! Well, it is jargon; in that thou art
right, honest Tom. Men talk in a fashion which fools might gibe at.
But 'tis the fashion, the fashion, and what would you? Be i' the
fashion--or perish! That is the choice before us."
"But how can I serve you, my lord?" asked Tom eagerly.
"Hast ever taken part in a duel, good fellow?" asked Lord Claud,
with a keen glance at the stalwart youth.
"I have fought many a battle in play and in earnest," answered Tom,
"with my fists, with the sword, and with the quarterstaff. I have
no knowledge of the ways of town fights, such as I heard talk of in
the Folly yesterday; but--"
"But you have a stout arm, an honest heart, and a tongue that will
not wag when it is bidden to be silent? Is that so, honest friend
Tom?"
"My lord, I would not speak a word to living soul if you bid me be
silent; and I would stand by you to the death!"
"'Tis a sudden liking you have taken for my unworthy self."
"Prove me, my lord, if it be not as sound as it be sudden."
Lord Claud stretched out his hand, and Tom's great fist met it.
"This liking on sight is a strange matter; yet I seldom mistake my
man. Tom, I am going to trust you to act as my second in a little
affair I have with another gentleman tomorrow morning, in a certain
spot of which I have knowledge. Another man was to have acted for
me--he has, indeed, made all the arrangements; but, as yon note
informs me, he was mixed up in a brawl last evening at the gaming
house, and lies abed with a broken arm. 'Tis not a matter I would
have get wind, else there be a dozen men who would serve my turn. I
had rather one silent, steady comrade than a score of chattering
jays. So you shall be my friend, Tom, and see what duelling is
like."
"You are not in danger of death, my lord, or grievous bodily hurt?
Else I fear I should break the rules of the game and dash to your
succour!"
"Tush, boy!" answered the other, with a gleam in his eyes, "I have
yet to find my match with the rapier; I shall get off without a
scratch, you will see. Whether or not I kill my man will depend
upon his behaviour. I love not slaughter for its own sake, but
there be those whose jaunty insolence rouses the devil within me;
and then I strike and spare not."
"And for what cause do men fight duels?" asked Tom.
"The question is a wide one, and smacks of innocence on your part,
Tom. Generally a woman is the cause; but there be other matters
too--wounded self-esteem or vanity, revenge, envy, evil passions of
all sorts. But, egad, in these days it takes little to provoke the
combat! Why, it is but a few months ago that two young sparks met
in mortal conflict because, forsooth, one of them had declared that
Venus was the goddess of love and beauty, whilst the other affirmed
that it was Aphrodite!" and Lord Claud leaned back upon his pillows
and laughed aloud; laughing still more when he found that he had to
explain to Tom the nature of the confusion which had prompted the
duel.
Time was fast flying as the two oddly-assorted comrades talked, and
soon the valet appeared at the door with the perruquier in his
wake, informing his master that several gentlemen waited below, and
that all was in readiness for the morning toilet.
"Heigh-ho!" sighed the young exquisite. "Why can we not rise from
our couches like the beast of the field, give ourselves a shake,
and be ready for the day's work? These levees are the bane of my
life. But fashion, fashion, fashion! She is the goddess of the
hour. Tom, sit over yonder, and watch the follies of thy kind. Keep
a quiet tongue, and I'll see you are not baited.
"And now, let in the popinjays and chattering monkeys; for the
sooner we begin, the sooner comes the end!"
The next two hours presented a marvellous spectacle to Tom. There
were perhaps some eight to twelve young sparks about town coming
and going during that time, some remaining the whole toilet
through, others roving off to other similar scenes. Whilst the
perruquier plied his skilful hands in the curling, powdering, and
arranging of Lord Claud's abundant golden hair, which some days was
powdered and some days left as nature had ordered, they sat beside
him in a row upon the bed and chattered of all the latest bits of
scandal, the wittiest retorts of this or that sprightly dame, the
on dit of the town, the quarrels of the gaming houses, and the
doings of the court.
When Lord Claud left his bed and began arraying himself in the soft
and costly array provided by his valet, his friends amused
themselves by joining with him in the perfuming of his person;
borrowing his essences to sprinkle upon their own fine clothes,
washing their hands in milk and perfume to make them white and
delicate; and calling to his valet to re-tie and arrange their
lace-edged cravats in imitation of the style affected by Lord
Claud.
Some of them removed their wigs, and asked the perruquier to give
them an extra powdering; others got at the cosmetic boxes upon the
toilet table, and gave a touch of carmine to cheeks which the
night's revel had left wan. Some gave infinite pains to the
arrangement of a patch to resemble a dimple; and all desired to dip
their handkerchiefs in the silver bowl of rare scent which was
offered almost the last thing to the master of all these luxuries.
Tom sat in his corner and looked on in amaze. He had felt himself a
very pretty dandy whilst being arrayed in his new clothes in Cale's
shop, but he felt like a raven amongst peacocks in this company;
and it would have taken nothing short of the testimony of his own
eyes to convince him that these were men and not women engaged in
all this pranking and personal adornment.
Many curious glances had been thrown in his direction at the first;
and a few of the guests sauntered up from time to time, and entered
into conversation with him. Tom observed, with some satisfaction,
that there was respect, if not admiration, in their manner, and he
wondered what had caused this; for yesterday he had received
mockery and taunts as his portion from men of much less distinction
than Lord Claud's friends.
He had not heard the words Lord Claud had spoken to his guests on
their arrival--or, rather, he had not understood them, since they
were spoken in the French tongue.
"A friend of mine--a fine young fellow--a son of the forest--best
let alone, gentlemen, by those who value a sound skin," Lord Claud
had said, with a careless laugh.
His friends drew their own conclusions, and looked at Tom with
respect. Lord Claud knew exactly what they were thinking, and
laughed in his sleeve.
The valet was now perfuming the gloves, and giving just the jaunty
cock to his master's hat which best suited its shape.
"Now, gentlemen, I will bid you farewell for the present," said
Lord Claud. "I and my friend have business of our own. We may meet
again at the play ere long. Off with you each to his own favourite
tavern. For my part, I have other fish to fry today."
With that he swept them a fine bow, and the room cleared as if by
magic. It was one of this man's arts that he could rid himself of
the buzzing crowd by one look or gesture when he had the mind.
Valet and perruquier followed the retreating guests, and Lord Claud
drew a breath of relief.
"There, honest Tom; we are well rid of the chattering
magpies--screaming peacocks were the better word, or painted
popinjays. Now to business; for I must keep a steady head and quiet
hours today. Are you anything of a swordsman, my friend?"
"I was accounted a good enough fighter in my own village," answered
Tom; "but everything here is so different. My methods may be
useless against the skill of men trained in a different school."
"We will put that to the test, and that quickly," said Lord Claud;
and forthwith he led his companion out of the house and through
several unfamiliar streets, till he reached a building rather
larger than its surrounding neighbours, into which he walked with
the air of one well used to the place.
First they passed through a large hall, the floor of which was
thickly sprinkled with sawdust; but, without pausing, Lord Claud
mounted a staircase in the corner, and led Tom into a large upper
room, the walls of which were adorned by rapiers with buttons at
the end, where a man was sitting polishing the foils and humming a
tune to himself. He rose instantly upon seeing Lord Claud, and made
a deep bow.
"I have come to try a bout at sword play with a friend of mine,"
explained the latter, stripping off his coat, and signing to Tom to
do the same. "Give us two well-matched weapons; for we have none
too much time to spare measuring and comparing."
Tom's blood quickened at the feel of the rapier in his hand. He had
always loved these encounters with the sword, whether in play or
earnest. He had not lacked training of a certain rude sort, and his
wrist was strong and supple, his eye wary and keen; moreover, he
had length of reach and strength of muscle. After the first bout
Lord Claud gave him an approving nod, and, looking at the man who
stood by, remarked:
"There is the making of a fine swordsman in the lad, is there not,
when he has learnt more finesse and quickness?"
"The gentleman does well," answered the man, with a shrewd glance
at Tom's tall and well-knit frame. "He may be worsted in a sham
fight, but, methinks, in sober earnest he would be an ugly customer
to meet."
In the next bout Lord Claud showed his antagonist some of the
dexterous feats of rapid sword play, with the result that Tom was
rather hard pressed; but for all that he did not lose his head, and
soon began to master the tricks of attack and defence, the quick
lunge and the quick recovery which perplexed him at first; and in
the next bout he showed so much skill and address that his opponent
and the onlooker alike applauded.
"Very good, Tom, very good," said Lord Claud. "You will make a
notable swordsman one of these days. Now I shall leave you here for
an hour with worthy Captain Raikes, and he will give you a lesson
in fencing which you will not fail to profit by. After that I will
come back for you, and take you elsewhere.
"Captain Raikes, I have a little affair on hand tomorrow morning. I
would fain try a pass with you, to see that my hand has lost
nothing of its cunning."
"Not much fear of that, my lord," answered the master of the place,
as he took the rapier from Tom; and the next minute the youth from
the country stood in silent admiration and amaze, whilst the two
blades crossed and flashed, and twined and clashed, with a
precision and masterly deftness which aroused his keen delight and
envy. To become a proficient like that would be something worth
living for; and his quick eyes studied the movements and methods of
the two adversaries, till he felt he had begun to have some little
notion of the tricks by which such results were attained.
When Lord Claud came back to fetch him, at the end of the
stipulated hour, it was to find young Tom without coat, vest, or
peruke, and bathed in perspiration; but so keenly interested in the
new science, that it was all his comrade could do to drag him away.
"Egad, Tom, but you will make a pretty swordsman one of these days!
Captain Raikes says he has never had a more promising pupil. You
have winded him as well as yourself. But all that exertion must
have given you an appetite. We will to Pontac's and refresh
ourselves; and when you have cooled down, I will take you to see a
man as great in his way as Captain Raikes with the foils. Oh yes,
you can come again at your leisure for another lesson. But I have
no fears for you, tomorrow, even now. Whatever may betide, you are
no child with the sword."
The coffee house to which Lord Claud now conducted him was a much
finer and more select place than the Folly, and Tom was much
interested in the fine company there, all of whom welcomed Lord
Claud heartily, and seemed to desire to draw him into talk.
Although dressed in the height of the fashion, and not without
their fopperies and extravagances, the company here interested
itself less with private scandal than with public affairs, and
there was much talk of the war abroad, and of the return of the
Duke of Marlborough, which it was now thought would take place
before long.
"But he has first to go to Berlin, to cajole the King of Prussia to
send help to Italy, to the Duke of Savoy," cried one of the
company, who seemed best informed on military matters. "It will
take a good one to wring eight thousand soldiers out of His Majesty
of Prussia, but if any man can do it, it will be Johnny Churchill!
I remember him even when we were boys together. He had a tongue
that would flatter the nose off your face, if you did but listen to
him! A voice of silver, and a hand of iron--those are the gifts
which have made the fortunes of my Lord of Marlborough."
"Ay, an iron hand for keeping money when once the fingers have
closed upon it!" laughed one.
"And a wife who rules the Queen, and is bent upon making her
husband the greatest man in the kingdom--though she will always
keep the upper hand of her lord, you will see. Marlborough, whom no
combination of military prowess can daunt, trembles and turns pale
before the frown of his wife!"
"Yet it is not fear but love which makes him tremble," said
another. "Although their children are grown to adolescence, he
loves her yet as dotingly as ever youthful swain loves the Phyllis
of his boyhood's amours!"
"That is nothing to sneer at," remarked Lord Claud, speaking for
the first time. "Rather should we thank Heaven, in these days of
profligacy and vice, that we have a Queen upon the throne who loves
her husband faithfully and well, and a general, victorious in arms,
who would gladly lay down his victor's laurels for the joy of
living in peaceful obscurity at the side of his wife!"
Nobody laughed at Lord Claud's speech, though it would have
provoked mirth if another had given utterance to the sentiment. The
talk went on, however, in the same vein, and Tom listened in
silence, trying to digest as much as he could of the news of the
day.
Lord Claud did not remain long; and when they were in the street
together, Tom asked him of the great Duke, and what had been said
of him. Was he really treacherous and false, loving money above all
else, and careless of the good of the realm, so long as he built up
his own fortunes securely?
"The Duke's career is not without its black spots," answered Lord
Claud. "It is known by all that he deserted the late King James the
Second; but there were reasons solid and sound for that. The
darkest passage in his life is his intrigues against His Majesty
King William, for which he was disgraced for some time. But for all
that his genius is marvellous, and I am very sure he is loyal to
the core to good Queen Anne; albeit a man who will not openly ally
himself with either Whig or Tory faction must expect to make
enemies in many quarters."
"And does he indeed love money so well?"
"Second to his wife, or men do him great injustice. But though they
laugh and sneer at him, I misdoubt me if he loves wealth better
than his traducers; only he keeps a firmer grip upon it, having
indeed no taste for vulgar dissipation. Why, even as a youth he was
mighty prudent."
Here Lord Claud began to laugh, as though tickled by some memory;
and on being questioned further, he told Tom the tale.
"You must know that John Churchill was a marvellous pretty fellow,
with just the same languid grace of bearing that he has kept all
his life; and of which you may judge the effect yourself, good Tom,
ere many weeks be passed. He was a youth about the court of Charles
the Second, and the Duchess of Cleveland took notice of the
handsome, witty lad, and sometimes had him in her rooms to amuse
her. Once they so chanced to be there together, when the steps of
the King were heard approaching; and as His Majesty was like to
think evil of a matter where no evil was, the Duchess was sore put
to it, and looked so affrighted, that young Churchill gallantly
sprang from the window, at the risk of breaking his leg if not his
neck. The Duchess sent him a present of five thousand pounds the
next day; and what does the lad do? Most of his sort would have
squandered it at play in a week; but Johnny Churchill was of a
different kidney. He goes and purchases with it an annuity; so that
come what may, he may never be left quite destitute in his old
age!"
And Lord Claud again burst into a hearty laugh, in which Tom now
joined.
They were now approaching a narrow street hard by the Haymarket,
and his companion knocked at a lowly door, which was opened by a
sombre-looking man in a shabby suit of clothes.
"Is your master within?" asked Lord Claud, who seemed known to all
the world; and the next minute he was striding up the stairs, two
steps at a time; Tom following, and marvelling much at the darkness
of the humble abode, and at Lord Claud's purpose in coming.
A door on the second floor was thrown open, and Lord Claud stepped
gaily in.
"Ha, Master Addison," he cried, "I have come to offer to you my
tardy congratulations for that yet more tardy recognition of merit
which has been your portion at last! And so the great ones of the
land have been forced to come beseeching in person? Ha! ha! that is
very good. And may my friend here--young Esquire Tufton, of
Gablethorpe, in the county of Essex--have the privilege of hearing
some of those wonderful lines which are to take the country by
storm? Come, Master Addison, you know that I am a lover of good
metre and fine sentiment. The words must needs be tingling in your
ears, and lying hot upon your tongue. Let us hear the roll of them,
and I warrant that all London town shall soon be in a ferment to
hear them, too!"
The man of letters was attired in a neat but poor suit of clothes,
and his surroundings were humble and even sordid; but his face was
neither peevish nor careworn, but wore an expression of dignified
contentment and scholarly repose. The walls of his lodging were
lined with bookcases, upon which many a volume was stacked. Poor he
had been for long, but he had not been in the straits that many men
of letters were reduced to in those days. On his desk were strewn
pages of manuscript verse which caught the eyes of the visitors at
once.
"By my halidome! if that be not the poem itself!"
"The rough copy alone, the rough copy," said Addison, who was
walking up and down the narrow room, his eyes aglow, his face a
little flushed. "The fair one is in the hands of the printers. My
Lord Godolphin came himself to hear it read but a few short days
ago, and took it off with him then and there."
"Delighted with it, and vowing that you should be the first poet of
the times, if report be true!" cried Lord Claud.
"He did express his satisfaction," answered the poet quietly. "And
I doubt not I shall receive some mark of favour at no distant date.
But not all the favour of Queen or courtier can give me the title
to poet. That lies in a sphere which not the most powerful
potentate can aspire to touch. The voice of posterity alone can
make or mar that title!"
"But let us hear something of this great poem," cried Lord Claud.
"As I say, it must be burning upon your tongue. Prithee do us the
grace to recite us portions of it."
It was a request palatable to the eager soul of the poet, all on
fire with the work which had occupied his thoughts and pen for so
many long weeks. He still kept up his pacing to and fro; but as he
walked he gave utterance to the well-conned passages of his work,
throwing into the words a fire and a spirit which kindled the spark
in Lord Claud's eyes, and even made young Tom's heart glow with
admiration and wonder, albeit he had never been the votary of
letters.
If high-flown, the language of the day kept it in countenance.
Nothing simple would have found favour at that date. And no one
called the sentiments forced, even though there seemed to be slight
confusion sometimes between Marlborough and the Deity. The
well-known lines upon the battle of Blenheim itself were given with
a wonderful fire and force:
"'Twas then great Marlbro's mighty soul was proved,
That in the shock of charging hosts, unmoved
Amidst confusion, horror, and despair,
Examined all the dreadful scenes of war,
In peaceful thought the field of death surveyed,
To fainting squadrons sent the timely aid,
Inspired repulsed battalions to engage,
And taught the doubtful battle where to rage.
So, when an angel by divine command
With rising tempest shakes a guilty land--
Such as of late o'er pale Britannia passed--
Calm and serene he drives the furious blast,
And, pleased the Almighty's orders to perform,
Rides in the whirlwind, and directs the storm."
"Excellent! excellent!" cried Lord Claud, when the poet at last
flung himself into his chair, exhausted by his own flow of
eloquence. "That will take them! That will hit them! My good
friend, your fortune is made.
"Capital, was it not, Tom? Why, it has raised a sparkle in your
calm bucolic eyes!
"'Tis a fine poem i' sooth, Master Addison; as fine a piece of work
as any man of this day ever produced. You might have seen it all
yourself. You have had information, one can see, from high
quarters. Now tell me, I pray, something in detail of this great
battle;" and forthwith poet and gallant fell to discussing the
campaign in such a fashion as filled Tom with wonder at his
companion, such as he was always feeling.
Lord Claud seemed to have such a masterly knowledge of military
detail, that it was hard to believe he had not at some time been a
soldier himself; and his knowledge of public affairs, and of the
intricacies of foreign and home politics, struck the country-bred
youth as something little short of marvellous.
For hard upon two hours did the two men sit talking, with papers
and diagrams before them; and when at last Lord Claud rose, Addison
gripped him hard by the hand, and declared he was the best company
he had seen for many a long day.
"We are too late for the play, Tom, my lad," said Lord Claud, as
they reached the street. "But, for my part, I have been better
entertained; and if I have wearied you, I crave pardon."
"I am no whit wearied," answered Tom promptly; "but I marvel much
at your knowledge of men and things."
Lord Claud laughed slightly and lightly.
"Keep open eyes and ears as you go along in life, Tom, and you will
learn many things in your turn. And now, methinks, we will take
horse to Earns, and lie there tonight. It will be better for us
than the long ride in the cold of the early morning."