It was Sunday morning, and Tom was making his way, towards the hour
of noon, to the house of the perruquier, which he had quitted some
four days past, with no intention of so long an absence.
The streets were unwontedly quiet, and the cries of the apprentices
at the doors of the shops were pleasantly missed. The shops were
most of them shuttered up, and the apprentices, clad in their best,
were all away to some sport of their own selection in byways and
alleys, or lingering about the parks with a knot of footmen and
lackeys, watching the fine folk walk in and out. For the common
sort were not admitted as yet within the precincts of the parks,
and even the gentlefolks had to leave their servants behind; so
that it may well be guessed there was plenty of gossiping and
hustling to be had at the gates, if any had a taste for it.
Tom was a far finer figure coming home than he had been in going
out. He wore a coat of azure velvet, and his vest was a perfect
cataract of fine point de Venise. His shoes were of white leather
with red heels, and his stockings of the finest white silk. He had
felt ashamed of his plain claret cloth, which had seemed so fine at
first, when taken to the houses of the fine hooped and powdered
ladies; and Lord Claud had had him fitted with this suit at his own
costumiers, bidding Tom regard it as a small token of friendship
and gratitude.
Tom had delighted in his fine appearance as he was taken the round
of the fashionable houses; but now, as he neared his former
lodgings, he found himself wishing he had put on the more sober
suit. He felt that Master Cale's eyes would rest upon him with a
grave disapproval, and he had not yet grown indifferent to the
opinion of the man who had so befriended him.
The perruquier's shop was close shut up, the sign swinging idly
overhead. But the door in the rear stood ajar, and Tom softly
pushed it open and entered.
He paused on the threshold, surprised by an unfamiliar sound--the
sound of a fresh young voice singing a gay little snatch of song in
some upper chamber. He mounted the stairs softly, the sound of the
voice growing clearer, and at last he knew that the singer must be
in the upper parlour, where, when the day's work was all finished,
the perruquier and any lodger he might chance to have spent the
evening hours if they did not go abroad.
This parlour was free to Tom, who, however, had not so far troubled
it much with his presence; but now he pushed open the door with
pardonable curiosity, and beheld at once the singer of the quaint
little refrain.
A slim young maiden was standing at the window, looking down into
the street below. She wore the simple dress of the citizen class, a
rather full skirt of cloth--of a finer texture perhaps than some,
and of a dark crimson colour which well became her--and the laced
bodice and full sleeves of the day. Round her throat she had a fine
white muslin kerchief edged with lace, and her apron was of the
same. She had plainly been wearing a hood of cloth like her dress,
but this was now lying on the table; and her pretty dark brown
hair, rather ruffled, was bound by nothing save a snood of crimson
riband. Her profile was turned to Tom, and he saw a sweet, little,
merry face, with a nose a trifle tip-tilted, and a cheek the colour
of a damask rose.
It seemed as though the opening of the door had been heard, for the
maid exclaimed in a merry voice:
"O father dear, I do love your picture of Absalom and David! I
think the king's great periwig is most beautifully depicted. But I
would like a companion picture on the other side--the mule running
away with Absalom, and the periwig left hanging on the tree!"
Then turning full round a laughing rosy face and a pair of roguish
hazel eyes, the maid suddenly found herself face to face with this
very fine young gentleman, and in a moment the smile died away,
although there was no displeasure in the glance of curiosity and
admiration which she bestowed upon him.
Tom made his best bow, and the maiden dropped him a pretty
courtesy, saying with frank fearlessness:
"You are surely my father's lodger, of whom he spoke to me. I crave
your pardon for not sooner seeing you. But I knew not that you were
in the house, and thought it must needs be my father at the door."
Tom advanced and stood beside her in the window. The pair regarded
each other with a frank and friendly curiosity.
"Are you Master Cale's daughter, pretty maiden?" asked Tom.
She nodded her head archly, whilst Tom hastened to ask:
"But how comes it then that I have never seen you before? I thought
he lived alone, with only his housekeeper, shopman, and apprentice
in the house."
"And so he does," answered the maid. "He will not have me to dwell
here. As soon as my mother died, when I was but eight years old, he
sent me away to my aunt in Highgate, with whom I have remained ever
since. Fain would I come back and keep house for him, but he will
none of it. He says that his house is no place for me, and he will
never let me visit him even of a week day. But upon most Sundays he
either comes forth to fetch me, or my aunt brings me hither to him.
Last Sunday the rain poured down so lustily that we were e'en
forced to bide at home; but whenever it is possible we spend the
day together, and I love to come into the town and walk abroad with
him there, and see such sights as may be seen upon the Sabbath
day."
"And is your aunt with you today?" asked Tom.
"She brought me hither after we had attended service at St. Paul's,
which I love to do. But now she has gone to visit some gossip of
her own. Father and I will have the afternoon together and alone,
and this we love best of all. He always gives holiday to apprentice
and shopman, so that we can have the house to ourselves, and enjoy
ourselves after our own fashion."
"I trust I shall not mar your happiness if I ask to share your
noontide meal," said Tom humbly.
"Oh no, sir, we shall be proud of your company," answered the girl;
"if you are not too fine a gentleman to sit at board with humble
citizens.
"Ah, there is my father's step! Doubtless he comes to say that
dinner is ready. He will not let me soil my fingers with cooking
when I come; but I can cook right well for all that--" and there
she stopped short, for Cale was already entering, and he gave quite
a start as his glance fell upon the resplendent figure standing
beside his daughter, though his face cleared and put on a slightly
quizzical look as he recognized who the young spark was.
"Ho! ho! my young friend, so I see you back at last! It is plain
that you have been with mighty fine company since you left my
humble roof. I almost marvel that Curley Cale's lodging is
accounted fine enough to hold your worshipful self longer!"
Tom suddenly felt a qualm of shame and disgust at his finery. It
was all very well for men like Lord Claud, but he felt that it made
him ridiculous to be tricked out like a peacock, in lieu of wearing
the more sober and becoming raiment chosen for him with such care
by Master Cale himself. His cheek glowed as he made reply:
"It is but a suit that was given me to appear at the house of some
fine lady last evening. I would gladly be rid of it now, and, with
your leave, will don more sober raiment. I love not to be pranked
out like this; but what would you, when all the world does the
like?"
Cale smiled his shrewd little smile, the maiden's eyes expressed
open admiration for the costly frippery, but Tom hastened away and
chose for himself one of the seemly but well-cut and fashionable
suits that had been left for him since he quitted the house a few
days before; and when he descended to join the party of two at the
board, as he had been invited, he felt much more like himself, and
looked much more suited to his surroundings, than he had done when
he first appeared there.
Father and daughter received him kindly, and Rosamund's eyes were
full of eagerness as she turned them upon him. He had learned by
this time that her name was Rosamund, though her father generally
called her Rosy.
"I pray you, fair sir," she said, with a pretty imperiousness of
manner, "tell us some of the things that you have seen and heard
these last days. My father says you have been keeping fine company,
and I would learn what that is like; for I am but a humble
citizen's daughter, and I live my life away in the country, so all
I know of the gay doings in the town I must needs hear from my
father, who tells me as little as ever he can!"
And she looked towards him with a charming pout upon her lips,
though her eyes were full of love beneath their merry sparkle.
"I am but a country-bred youth myself, Mistress Rosamund," answered
Tom, who had laid aside all his fine gentleman airs, and felt a
deal more comfortable in consequence, "and this town and its gay
doings are as strange to me as they can be to you. I am all agape
at what I see and hear; but a man must needs keep his astonishment
to himself, else he becomes the butt and the gibe of all the
company."
And forthwith, by no means reluctantly, Master Tom began to give
account of his doings of the past days, only keeping quite silent
on the subject of the duel, for he had learned that that was a
matter which Lord Claud wished to remain secret.
Rosamund listened as Desdemona might have done to Othello, and Cale
himself was considerably interested, though he shook his head when
he heard that already Tom had lost all the money he had about him,
and was even in debt to Lord Claud for losses he had been unable to
meet at the moment, and which his patron had settled for him.
"Keep away from the gaming tables, Tom; keep away from the gaming
tables," he said. "Did I not warn you that you would be fleeced and
rooked if you tried that sort of thing on?"
Tom laughed a little, and said he knew beforehand he should lose,
as though that were an excuse. But Cale only shook his head; and
Rosamund asked eagerly:
"But who is this great Lord Claud, fair sir? He seems a wonderful
person, and fain would I see him with mine own eyes. He seems a
kind and generous man, and wondrous clever and beautiful. Pray tell
me who he is?"
Tom looked across at Cale, and made answer:
"I' sooth, Mistress Rosamund, I know not. Perchance your father may
be better instructed."
Cale shook his head. His face was very grave.
"That is a question which I doubt if any man in London town can
answer. Every man knows Lord Claud by name and fame, but none can
tell who he is, nor whence come his wealth and power. Mark me, Tom,
it behoves you to have a care how you fall beneath the spell of his
beauty and his kindliness. He has made friends before this of
handsome, powerful lads, not long from the country, and amongst
these many have disappeared and never been heard of more, whilst
others have fallen into crime, and have languished in Newgate, or
paid the forfeit of their lives upon the gallows."
Rosamund shrank and grew pale; whilst Tom looked the perruquier
full in the face, and said:
"Truly I can believe that many men who plunge into dissipation and
vice may come in time to a bad end. But why charge that upon Lord
Claud? He can only be held responsible for his own life, and he
lives and thrives in favour with all."
"Like a green bay tree," answered the perruquier thoughtfully. "I
have often seen the wicked in great prosperity; but their downfall
comes at last."
"Do you call Lord Claud wicked?" asked Tom rather hotly.
"No," was the quiet reply; "I judge no man; but I do say that
worldly prosperity is no test of true merit. The wicked may be fat
and flourishing for long; but the Lord will avenge at the last."
"But, father," cried pretty Rosamund eagerly, "for what crimes were
the poor young men hanged of whom you spoke just now?"
"Most of them suffered for the crime of robbery on the king's
highway."
Tom again flushed rather deeply. He had heard hints and innuendoes
before this, and his wits were beginning now to piece things
together. He was angry, yet he scarce knew why.
"Do you mean to say, Master Cale," he asked, "that men accuse Lord
Claud of being the accomplice of highwaymen and footpads?"
And then he himself remembered the words of the message with which
Captain Jack had entrusted him, and a strange thrill seemed to run
down his spine.
"Men say nought of him openly," answered Cale, "but they whisper
among themselves. For my part, I know nothing of Lord Claud and his
doings. But I know that there have been marvellous clever and
daring deeds done upon the road; that the king's money chests have
been rifled again and again of gold, transmitted by the Treasury
for the pay of the soldiers in foreign lands, and that none of the
gold has ever been recovered. Now and again an obscure person has
been captured, and has suffered death for complicity in such a
crime; and it has been told me that several of such have been
stalwart and stanch youths, who had at one time been seen
frequenting Lord Claud's lodgings, much noticed and petted by him.
What truth there be in such talk I know not. Nor have I any desire
to know. A little knowledge can be a dangerous thing; and the voice
of rumour is but little to be trusted."
"Very little, I should think," answered Tom quickly; for he had
already conceived a great attachment towards Lord Claud, and it
irked him to think that men should speak of him as one who was a
false friend, and the accomplice in crimes for which others
suffered whilst he reaped the spoil.
A man, especially in his hot-headed youth, seldom believes what he
has no mind to; and Tom certainly had no disposition to believe any
harm of Lord Claud.
So the talk drifted to other channels, and when presently Rosamund
declared with pretty insistence that she must not be cheated of her
walk abroad in the streets. Tom asked if he might make one of the
party without intruding; and the bright eyes of the girl gave
eloquent answer.
So they sallied forth together, and Master Cale played cicerone,
and showed Tom many strange and wonderful things, telling him
absorbing stories the while. He showed him the limits of the
ravages of the Great Fire, which he could remember well, as he was
ten years old at the time. He took them into many of the churches
afterwards built by Wren, and Tom stood lost in amaze at the
magnificent proportions of the great St. Paul's, the inside of
which he had not seen till today. He was shown also the site of one
of the Great Plague pits; and Rosamund clung trembling, yet
fascinated, to her father's arm whilst he spoke of the things that
had happened in those gruesome days.
He himself had been sent away into the country during the terrible
visitation; but his father had remained and had survived, and from
him he had learned all manner of strange tales, which Rosamund
loved to hear him tell, though they always blanched her cheek, and
brought a look of terror into her pretty eyes.
Tom thought this was a pleasanter way of spending the afternoon
than listening to the braggings of the coffee house bullies, or
watching the mummery of the play, when scarce a word could be heard
from the actors, owing to the laughter and talk that buzzed all
round the house. The clamour from the footmen's gallery alone
almost sufficed to drown the sound from the stage; and, indeed, a
short time later on, the disgraceful behaviour of the servants who
attended their masters and mistresses to the play became so
intolerable that the free gallery was closed to them, causing
regular riots every night, till military aid had to be summoned.
But Rosamund thought it must be delightful to see a play, and
wanted to hear all he could tell her about it; and so well pleased
were the pair with their conversation, that Master Cale, bethinking
him of an old friend hard by, with whom he liked to exchange a
friendly word from time to time, bid them walk up and down the
street together for a brief time, until he should pay his visit and
join them again.
This suited the young people very well, and they exchanged a good
many confidences together. Tom told her of his home at Gablehurst,
and of his mother and sister, and the father who was gone; and she
told him of her quiet life in her aunt's house, and how she would
so greatly like to remain always with her father, and watch the
life of this wonderful city.
But Tom could well understand how the perruquier would shrink from
permitting his innocent and pretty daughter to dwell beneath his
roof. His trade brought thither all manner of fine dandies and
young bloods, and if it were known that there was a pretty maiden
within doors, there would be no end to their attempts to get sight
of or speech with her; and any girl's head might be turned by the
flowery nonsense that would be spoken and written to her.
"Believe me, you are better where you are, Mistress Rosy," answered
Tom. "I would not have my sister Rachel here, now that I have seen
what London is like. It is a place for men to see at least once in
their lives; but women are better away from it. I looked about at
the painted faces, the towering heads, and the huge hoops the other
night, and I said to myself, that if my mother or sister were to
make of themselves such objects as that, I should be ready to sink
into the ground for shame--to say nothing of the ogling, and fan
tapping, and silly jargon of talk which would put a chattering
monkey to shame!"
If Tom was quoting Lord Claud's moralizings, he quoted them in all
good faith; for he had been honestly disgusted by the glimpses he
had had of the goings on of fine ladies in their houses, and could
better appreciate the simplicity and true affection of his own
womankind than he had ever done before.
At this moment there smote upon his ears the unwelcome sound of
mocking laughter that seemed familiar to him.
"Ho, ho, ho! So the country bumpkin has found a mistress already!
So he has had to leave the fine ladies, and mate with one of his
own sort after all! Ho, ho, ho! She has a neat foot and ankle, at
any rate! Let us see what sort of a face there is under the crimson
hood!"
Tom felt the girl's hand clutch fast hold of his arm, and his blood
began to tingle in his veins. He was mightily glad that he had
buckled on his sword before coming out; although, as he had put on
a heavy cloak, it was possible the bullies were not aware of that.
"Which house did your father enter, Mistress Rosamund?" he asked
quickly.
"I did not note," she answered, looking round with frightened eyes;
"but methinks it was the one with the steps and the little recess."
Tom, making a few rapid strides, whisked her quickly within the
shelter of the doorway, saying, as coolly as might be:
"Knock, and ask to join your father, if he be within. I will soon
settle these impudent fellows behind."
Then he faced about quickly, just as the four bullies he had met
before came swaggering up, ready for any mischief and fighting that
might be afoot.
"Come, Master Greengoose, let's see what sort of taste you have in
faces! You are a fine hand at making friends! Let's see how you
fare with the ladies!
"Nay, mistress, do not turn so coyly away and draw your hood over
those bright eyes--"
But the speaker got no further, for Tom's sword bad come flashing
from its sheath, and with a quick turn of the wrist he hit the
fellow full on the mouth with the hilt, so that he fell back
spluttering and swearing, the blood starting from his lips.
"Is that enough," said Tom sternly, "or will you have more?"
It was Thirsty Thring who had received the buffet, and he was the
least disposed of all that worthy quartette to show fight to a
resolute adversary; but Bully Bullen came swaggering up, drawing
his sword with a great air of assurance. He had been the hero of
many a tavern brawl before, and reckoned his skill as something to
be feared.
"So, young rooster! Wouldst crow so lustily on your dung heap? D'ye
think you're to be cock o' the walk in all London town? Are honest
citizens to be set upon, and their teeth knocked out, to please
your lusty humours? Take that, you young cub, and learn manners to
your betters!"
He made a fierce and sudden lunge at Tom as he spoke, expecting
that he had an untrained and inexperienced adversary to deal with.
But Tom had had three lessons already from Captain Raikes, as well
as bouts with Lord Claud by way of amusement; and with hardly a
perceptible effort he parried the thrust, and making his keen blade
twine round the clumsier one of his opponent, he jerked the weapon
clean out of his hand, and sent it flying half across the road.
"A fig for your boasting!" he cried contemptuously. "You had best
get out of my sight, lest I run you through for your impudence!"
Slippery Seal, seeing how matters were going, now raised a cry for
help.
"Help! help! Watchmen, to the rescue! Here is a desperate young
ruffian seeking to murder the Queen's subjects in broad daylight!
Help, I say, and take the young braggart before the magistrates!
Cannot peaceable citizens walk the streets without being set upon
by such bullies as that yonder?"
Two watchmen at that moment came hastening up, and looked at the
combatants with questioning eyes. Tom was flushed, and his sword
was still in his hand; but Rosamund had been admitted to the house,
and was going hot-foot in search of her father, to come and put a
stop to the fight; for she bad perfect faith in his power to do
anything he had a mind to.
"We four can testify," said Slippery Seal, with a voice of great
unction, "that as we were peaceably passing down the street, this
young fellow, of whom we know no good, made a sudden and unprovoked
attack upon honest Master Thring there, whose mouth is still
bleeding from the blow. Thereupon Master Bullen drew his sword to
protect him; but he was set upon so furiously, that had he not been
a notable swordsman he must needs have been killed. As it was, his
sword was dashed from his band, and there it lies in the roadway
before your eyes. I say, how long are pious and peaceable citizens
to be treated thus? Do your duty, my good fellows, and take this
young man into custody. A taste of the stocks will do him a vast
deal of good, and we will bear testimony against him with right
good will. 'In the mouth of two or three witnesses--' you know what
says the Scripture."
"Ay, you blasphemer and liar, we know well what says the Scripture:
'Thou shalt not bear false witness;' and again, 'The mouth that
speaketh lies shall be stopped.'"
Looking round quickly, Tom saw Master Cale, with his daughter
clinging to his arm, standing in the doorway of the house, and
sternly regarding the scene.
"Watchmen," he said, "if you make any prisoners today, take you
those four bullies, who are but too well known in these streets
already. It is they who delight to set upon strangers, and insult
and frighten innocent maidens. Take you them, and I will bear
witness against them; for I saw the scene with my own eyes. Would
to heaven that honest citizens could rid their streets of such
spawn!
"But I tell you, you mischievous scum, the day will come when we
will no longer stand this swaggering and bullying. We are a patient
people; but you can provoke us too far. I know you four right well.
I would sit you in the stocks in a row, or have you whipped at the
cart's tail from Newgate to Tyburn; and perchance the day may come
when--"
But the miscreants did not wait to hear the end of this harangue.
They well knew that no tale of theirs could stand for a moment
before the witness of a man respected as Master Cale the
perruquier. Fearful lest the watch, who had let go their hold of
Tom, should in turn lay hands on them, they fled helter-skelter,
but as they went they breathed out threats of being even with Tom
another time, and he knew well that this encounter had changed them
from the merely jeering enemies they had shown themselves at first
into real antagonists full of bitter animosity and hatred.
The watch were never too eager to take up evildoers who were
possessed of swords and were strong of body. They were glad enough
that Master Cale had vouched for Tom's honesty, and that the other
four had betaken themselves away. Hard knocks and sometimes fatal
injury were often the portion of these old men, so incapable of
keeping order in the streets; and thankful were they when any fray
ended in the manner of this one.
But Cale's face was rather grave as he turned homewards, his
daughter clinging to his arm, and Tom marching upon her other side
with his head high in the air.
"I thank you, my good lad, for being so stout a champion to my
little girl," he said; "and yet I would it had not happened; for it
is ill work making enemies in these days of lawlessness and
duelling."
But Tom gave a little laugh. He had no desire to make boast of his
prowess; yet he felt that he could settle a score of quarrels with
such besotted creatures as the four he had put to rout so lately,
and be no manner the worse for it himself. He was not at all sorry
for the adventure. He felt a flutter of pride and pleasure in the
shy glances shot at him from the dark eyes beneath the crimson
hood. He had made of himself a hero in the eyes of pretty Rosamund,
and he liked that experience well enough.
"Fear not for me, my good friend," he answered, in a tone that had
caught a little of the lofty ring of Lord Claud's.
"A man cannot go through life without making enemies as well as
friends. But as for such creatures as we have just quitted, why,
they are not worth a thought! I heed them no more than the wasp
that buzzes round my head. They are the scum and off scouring of
the earth--all brag and boast, but ready to run at the first hint
of danger!"
Rosamund's eyes shot forth another look of admiration; but Cale
said quietly:
"Yet it is this very scum and off scouring of the earth who have
before now kidnapped and shipped off to the plantations of Virginia
honest men of stout heart and stalwart frame; for there is great
demand for able-bodied men there, and good prices are paid for bone
and muscle. So again I say, have a care, Tom, have a care. I would
not have you entertain one coward fear, yet I would have you
careful not to provoke needless animosity; for we live in perilous
and evil days."
The colour had faded from Rosamund's cheeks at these words, and she
timidly laid a hand upon Tom's arm as he marched beside her.
"Fair sir, you will be careful," she said, in a soft and pleading
voice. "If hurt were to come to you for having so gallantly
befriended me, I should know no peace or happiness again!"
Tom looked with a smile into the face of the speaker; and Cale
heard the words, and saw the look. He gave a little sigh, and
walked on in deep thought.
It was Tom and Rosamund who did the greater part of the talking,
even after they got home and partook of the dish of tea. This then
costly beverage was reckoned by Rosamund as a Sunday treat, and
sipped with great relish; and Tom took it for the first time,
saying he would e'en make shift to like it, since Mistress Rose
vouched that it was good, although he had hitherto refused it when
offered at the houses of the fine folks he had visited.
So in talk and tea drinking an hour slipped away; and then the
perruquier rose and bid Rosamund get her hood and come; for it was
high time to fetch her aunt, and go back to Highgate.
Tom would have liked to accompany them once more, but some instinct
restrained him from making the offer. He bade adieu to Rosamund at
her own door, and went back to sit by the fire and muse of all the
things that had happened to him during this momentous week.