"My lord," said Tom, "I am but a country squire's son. I am no fit
guest for the house of a duke. I pray you let me turn aside, and go
visit mine own home, and say farewell to mine own people. If, as
you say, we shall speedily be sent forth upon some errand of peril,
I would fain kiss my mother once again before parting. I have not
been to her as good a son as I should wish. Let me ask her pardon,
and show her that I have not forgotten her, ere we fare forth on
our mission."
Tom and his companion were drawing near to the Duke's property of
Holywell, when Tom suddenly burst out with these words. He had
begun to feel a sort of proud, shy shrinking from thrusting
himself, even as invited guest, into the house of the great
Marlborough. Moreover, the sight of the familiar country--for he
had been wont to pay visits afore times to St. Albans--had awakened
in him memories of the life which now seemed so very far distant,
together with more tender thoughts of mother and sister than he had
ever felt towards them in the days of old.
"I would meet you in three days' time wherever you would appoint
me," he added, as Lord Claud remained silent and thoughtful; and
there was a note of pleading in his voice which showed how much
bent he was upon this visit of farewell. "You have said you do not
look to be less than three days at Holywell. I pray you spare me
for this last farewell."
Lord Claud's face softened, as though he felt sympathy for Tom's
eager desire. He spoke kindly and thoughtfully.
"In sooth, I see no objection," he replied. "It is to me that the
Duke must impart his wishes, as you know nought of foreign lands or
tongues. A stout and trusty comrade I need to take with me; but it
is not necessary, so far as I see, for us both to wait upon the
Duke. Belike, too, he may be busy, and it may be I shall have to
wait his leisure; or he may himself have to wait for despatches
from abroad ere he can give me mine. So do you take your ease at
your home of Gablehurst; and when I have received instruction, I
will, by your leave, join you there. We shall certainly cross the
sea to Holland; for we must not adventure ourselves in the hostile
ports of France. So 'twill all be in my way for the coast; and
perchance your good mother will afford me the shelter of her
friendly roof for one night."
Tom's face lighted up as though a sunbeam had touched it.
"For a dozen, my lord, if you will thus far favour us! In sooth, I
thank you heartily for this grace. The village of Gablethorpe is
well known to some persons even in these parts; and Gablehurst is
the largest house in the place. A hearty welcome will be yours, my
lord, whenever you arrive there."
"Thanks, good Tom. I doubt it not if thy folks are of thine own
trusting kidney. And hark ye, look well to the mare Nell Gwynne;
let her be well fed and well tended, for it may well be that she
has hard times before her. If we have to cross the sea on urgent
business, I shall do my best to take our good steeds with us. Dutch
nags may be strong, but I would sooner feel the English blood
stirring beneath me. Besides, in matters where despatch and caution
are needed, it is half the battle to have a horse who has been
trained under one's own eye. They have ways with them that can be
of vast use in moments of peril, and will brook no strange riders
on their backs. See to the mare, Tom, and do well by her; for it
may be that thy very life may hang one day upon her speed and
strength!"
Tom felt the blood tingling in his veins.
"I will not forget your charge, my lord."
"And now, what will you do, Tom? Will you sleep one night at
Holywell? For I would not have you adventure yourself alone in the
forest at dark; and you must needs pass through a part of it to
reach your destination."
"No, my lord, nor I either, after what I experienced there before.
But hard by here is the house of a friend. I would gladly turn in
thither; and tomorrow he will certainly ride with me through the
forest and homewards. Doubtless, too, when you have to pass that
way, the Duke will give you escort till you near our friendly
village."
So the matter was thus arranged to the satisfaction of Tom; and
almost immediately the two companions parted company, the country
here being safe and fairly populated. Before long Tom found himself
knocking at the gate of an old friend of his, who gave him hearty
and boisterous welcome.
It was with strange feelings next day that he found himself riding
along the familiar track which led straight to the village of
Gablethorpe! It was only three months since he had left the place,
but he felt as though full as many years had passed over his head.
He was not very finely dressed; but there was a style about his
London-made riding suit which his country clothes had lacked, and
the peruke upon his head gave him the air of a fine gentleman. He
noted with amusement that some of the rustics who gaped at him as
he passed did not recognize him, although he knew them well. If he
had been riding Wildfire they would have known the horse; but now
both steed and rider seemed strange to them.
Then as he rode at a foot pace through the village, smiling at
sight of the familiar places and faces (his friend had turned back
when they had passed the limits of the forest, and had ridden home
with his servant, not to be belated), one of the women at the
cottage doors smote her hands together and cried:
"Bless us all! if it bean't Master Tom hisself!"
"Golly! and so it be!" cried her husband, who was just coming in
from the fields; and the next minute Tom was surrounded by a
gaping, admiring crowd, all eager to give him welcome, and wonder
at the fine figure he cut amongst them.
The restiveness of the mare shortened the greetings of the rustics;
for Nell Gwynne was not accustomed to being so surrounded, and
showed a disposition to lay about her with her heels, or to rear
and strike out with her forefeet. These manoeuvres soon scattered
the crowd, and Tom rode on, laughing and waving his hand; whilst
the fleet-footed of the village urchins started in a beeline across
the meadows for Gablehurst, knowing that the lady there would
certainly bestow a silver groat upon him who first brought the news
that Master Tom was at hand!
So when Tom rode up the avenue towards the fine old gabled house,
which had never looked so pleasant to him as in the evening glow of
this January afternoon, mother and sister were out upon the steps
waiting for him; and the servants were assembling from within and
without to give him a hearty cheer, and receive his kindly smile
and greeting in reply.
His mother folded him in her arms, with the tears running down her
cheeks. She had only heard once from him all these months; for the
letter he had sent at Christmas time had never found its way
through the snow drifts of the forest. Tom kissed mother and sister
with real feeling, and then turned aside to give minute
instructions and warnings with regard to the mare, who was put into
the care of the old servant who had most experience in the matter
of horse flesh, and felt no uneasiness at the vagaries and tantrums
of her ladyship.
Then Tom turned to enter the familiar hall, his hand upon his
mother's shoulder, Rachel clinging to his other arm.
"O Tom!" she cried, "have you come back to us for good? Have you
had enough of gay London town?"
There was already a traveller's meal set out in the warm south
parlour, and the servants were hurrying to and fro with eager zeal
and excitement. Tom was pushed into a seat by his sister, and
helped with no unsparing hand; whilst the mother hung over him,
eager not to lose a single word.
"Yes, truly, for the time being I have had enough of London town,"
answered Tom; "although it is a monstrous fine city, and I should
well like to see it again, as indeed I may. But for the moment I am
on my way to foreign lands, as my father wished. I am like to have
work to do there for my lord of Marlborough, whose coming to this
country has set all the town in a commotion, as perchance you have
heard."
They had heard something of it even at Gablehurst; and Rachel
eagerly asked Tom if he had seen the great Duke.
"Oh, many times," answered Tom, with the complacency of one who
feels himself a great man in his present surroundings. "I witnessed
many pageants in which he took part; and I was of the same company
at the house of my Lord Craven, and was presented to him, and had
speech with him!"
Mother and sister were impressed and surprised; but yet Tom was so
great a personage in their estimation that perhaps they took this
piece of news more quietly than more enlightened dames would have
done. They made him tell his story from end to end, sitting with
his feet towards the hearth, the cheery glow of the fire warming
his limbs and imparting a sense of well-being and homelike comfort.
"And who is this Lord Claud, who has shown you so much kindness?"
asked the mother, when the outlines of the story at least had
become known to them.
"That I cannot rightly tell you," answered Tom; "there is some
mystery about his birth and name. He goes everywhere, and is
received by the best and finest people of the town, short of the
court circle. And even my lord of Marlborough exchanged civilities
with him, and let him present me as his friend. But more than that
I cannot tell you, nor can any man in town. If it be a secret, it
is mightily well kept. All have heard of Lord Claud; but none know
more of him than his name."
"That seems a strange thing," said Rachel.
"Not more strange than half the things one sees and hears in the
world," answered Tom, with the air of a man of vast experiences, as
indeed he felt himself to be in this company.
Nor did the pleasant feeling wear off with the rapid flight of
days. He was courted, and feted, and made much of by rich and poor
alike. All the gentry of the neighbourhood came flocking to see
him; and his old companions, hanging about the stable yard, not
daring to present themselves at the house, would beg for a word
with Master Tom, and feel themselves quite uplifted and glorified
when he came out to them, and stood in their midst, smiling and
jovial, but with a something now in his appearance and bearing
which seemed to put a great gulf betwixt him and them.
All this was mighty pleasant for Master Tom, though perhaps not the
most salutary experience for him. He had felt qualms of penitence
and remorse as he rode homewards, thinking of his follies and
weaknesses in the past, ashamed of the class of comrades he had
affected then, ashamed of the fashion in which he had spent his
days, and of the indifference he had shown to his parents.
But the reception accorded him had dimmed these healthy sentiments,
and given him the idea that he was a mighty fine fellow and a great
man in his way. He no longer craved the rule at Gablehurst; he had
ambitions of another sort. He must see the world first, and drink
the cup of pleasure to the dregs. Gablehurst was all very well as a
resting place for him when he had had enough of travel, of
adventure, of the gay and rollicking life of the town; but for the
present let his mother reign there undisturbed. He had no wish to
do so.
Therefore he found it easy to be loving and gentle and kindly
towards her and Rachel. Indeed, Rachel seemed to him a more
attractive maiden than she had ever been before. She had smiles for
him, where once she had only grave looks of disapproval; and she
delighted in his stories almost as much as Rosamund Cale had done.
Altogether, this visit was a mighty pleasant one for Tom; and it
lasted for ten whole days before the news was brought to him that a
strange gentleman had ridden up and was asking for him, and he knew
that Lord Claud had come to fetch him.
Tom had had the prudence to say very little about their purpose in
going abroad. His mother and sister knew that it had some
connection with the war, and that the Duke of Marlborough was going
to send some despatches by them; but he told them not to name even
this fact to the neighbours, and he had not mentioned to them the
mysterious words "secret service."
When he reached the hall door, there was Lord Claud mounted upon
the black horse Lucifer, who looked in tip-top condition. Mrs.
Tufton and Rachel had come out to welcome Tom's friend, and the
rider was sitting bare headed in the afternoon sunlight, looking
mightily handsome and gallant.
"Ah, good Tom, so you are e'en at hand when wanted. I have been
detained somewhat longer than I thought; but all is in readiness
now for a start for the port of Harwich. Have you got yourself and
Nell into first-class condition? for we have work before us, my
lad."
"But, sir, you will not surely start today, with the shades of
evening drawing on so fast?" pleaded Mrs. Tufton, who felt a
sinking at heart in the thought of parting from her son again. "You
will lie here for one night at least, and start forth with the day
before instead of behind you?"
"If you will favour me with so much hospitality, gracious madam, I
should be glad to do so," answered Lord Claud with a courtly bow;
and in another minute his horse was being led away to the stables,
and he was following the ladies into the house, speaking so many
words of well-chosen admiration for the quaint old manor and the
fine meadowland and timber trees about it, that Tom was prouder of
his home than he had ever been before, and even of the mother and
sister who dwelt there. For Lord Claud paid them as much attention,
and gave them as courtly treatment, as though they had been the
highest ladies in the land; and it seemed as though their native
refinement and tact enabled them to make fitting reply to him, and
to show a certain simple dignity of mien which Tom had never
troubled himself to observe in them before.
He observed now that Rachel was a very handsome girl, rather like
himself in feature, but with more refinement of aspect and more
thoughtfulness of disposition. This thoughtfulness gave a depth to
her eyes and a piquancy to her talk which Tom noted with surprise
and admiration; and he was well pleased that both his home and his
womenfolk pleased his friend so well.
Mrs. Tufton would fain have learned something of the nature of the
errand upon which her son was to start upon the morrow; but Lord
Claud fenced cleverly with her questions, and, whilst seeming to
reply to them, left her little the wiser. They were going to take
ship for Holland, and thence make their way with despatches to one
of the allies of the Duke; so much he let them freely know. And
when she asked if there were peril to face, he laughed lightly as
he replied:
"Madam, there is always peril to be faced whether we bide at home
or travel beyond seas. Your son Tom met more peril in the forest
only a few short miles from home, than he has encountered in that
great Babylon of London. It is so with us all. Ofttimes those that
stay snug and safe at home meet with some mishap, whilst the rovers
come back safe and sound. No life can be without its perils; but I
have come through so many unscathed, that I have learned not to
fear them beforehand."
"And Tom at least will be serving his country," said Rachel; "and
that is a thousand times better than receiving hurt when in search
after idle pleasures."
Lord Claud bowed to her across the table as he replied:
"You speak a great truth, fair lady. We do indeed go forth upon the
service of our country, and of the great Duke, who is a master to
be trusted and obeyed. He is never reckless. He never throws away
lives needlessly. Never was general in battle so tender for the
wounded as he. His first thought after a fight is for his injured
soldiers; and he looks personally after the arrangements for their
comfort. This fact should be enough to show you that he is careful
of human life, and would not intrust men with missions that are too
perilous to be successfully carried out."
Mother and sister took heart at this, and trusted to see Tom return
safe and sound from his present journey.
This farewell was more easily gone through than the last, although
Tom felt a keener sense of affection for his relatives than he had
done on the first occasion, and a greater affection for his home.
But he had made trial of a new life now, and was full of hopeful
confidence; and both mother and sister had begun to believe in him,
and had shown pride and satisfaction in his career.
So they rode forth in the first sunshine of a bright February
morning, with three stout serving men from Gablehurst to attend
them as far as Harwich. Lord Claude was willing to accept the
escort, as the road was unfamiliar to him, and he wanted no
needless delays along the route.
Rachel brought the stirrup cup, and the household assembled to
cheer the travellers as they rode away. There were tears in the
mother's eyes, but she smiled and waved her hand bravely. The
horses were in first-rate condition, and full of life and spirit.
They were delighted to find themselves travelling side by side
again; and the riders were pretty well occupied for the first few
miles of the road in curbing their gay spirits.
They had plenty of time to get to Harwich before the light failed
them, and the servants knew the road and the best inns to bait at.
The journey was performed without misadventure; and Tom dismissed
his retainers when he and his companion were safely installed in a
good inn upon the quay, as the servants intended making one or two
stages on the homeward road before stopping for the night.
Lord Claud had gone straight down to the harbour so soon as they
arrived, leaving Tom to make arrangements for the night. So far he
had said almost nothing as to the errand upon which they were bent,
and Tom had asked no questions, knowing he should be told what was
needful in due time. So when he had ordered a plentiful supper, he
strolled out upon the quay, and presently saw his comrade returning
with a satisfied look upon his face.
"Well, Tom, we are in luck's way. There is a skipper in harbour who
has unshipped his cargo, and is going back almost empty by the
morning's tide. He is glad enough to take us and our good horses
safely across to Rotterdam; and, with the light, favouring breeze
that has been blowing steadily these last three days, he declares
we ought to make the anchorage there before nightfall. With the sea
as smooth as this, too, I am not afraid to adventure the horses;
which I should be were a gale to blow."
"Do they suffer from seasickness?" asked Tom.
"Ay, from the nausea of it," answered Lord Claud; "but the relief
that we can gain by sickness is impossible to them, and therefore
they must needs die if things be too bad with them. But if the
weather change not--and there looks no fear of that--we shall have
a swift and prosperous voyage; so now let us to supper, and I will
tell you more of what lies before us."
But as it turned out, there were too many other guests at the table
for private talk to be possible; and only when on board the good
sloop Marlborough did Tom hear anything of the details of the
projected expedition.
It was a clear, promising morning, a light breeze blowing from the
west, but the sea still and smooth, only dimpling with the puffs of
wind. Tom stood on board beside the horses, soothing their fears at
the strange sights and sounds about them, his own heart beating
somewhat high with excitement at the thought of putting to sea for
the first time.
The sailors were busy hauling in ropes, singing and shouting. The
vessel gave a little start and shiver, there was a rattle of canvas
overhead, and a gentle lurching movement. Then the shore seemed
suddenly to be slipping away; and Tom knew, with a start of
surprise and exhilaration, that they were off upon their voyage to
unknown lands.
Presently the horses grew calm and quiet, used to their strange
surroundings, and willing to nibble at the heap of fragrant hay put
down at their feet. Tom was able to leave them with a clear
conscience, and came over to where Lord Claud was standing in the
fore part of the vessel, watching the sheets of green water that
fell away from the prow as the sloop cut her way through the waves.
"Well, friend Tom, so we are off at last."
"Yes, my lord; but I have not heard yet whither."
"No; and, like a wise and prudent fellow, have not desired to know
too much. You are a model of patience, Tom--an excellent companion
to have. But the time has come when I can safely enlighten you as
far as you need be enlightened. I shall not tell you all I know;
for, in truth, you would not understand it."
"That may very well be," answered Tom humbly.
"But I will tell you this much, Tom; we are bound upon an errand of
peril. We have some difficult journeyings to make, and there will
be certain persons lying in wait for messengers from Marlborough;
and we may be sore beset to avoid them. Tom, do you remember the
tall dark man with whom my duel was fought?"
"Sir James?"
"That is the name by which he goes in England. He passes there as
one Sir James Montacute, a man of bravery and wealth. But there is
another side to the picture. That man, Tom, is a spy, and in the
pay of the King of France. If I had known as much that day as I
have since learned from his Grace the Duke, methinks I should not
have left him alive upon the field. Tom, we shall probably have to
measure our wits against his in a duel of another sort ere long."
Tom threw back his head with a defiant gesture.
"Well, my lord; and I am ready!" he said.
"Very good, Tom; I thought as much. You did not love our
dark-skinned friend much better than I did. I think we shall find
him lurking in wait for us somewhere amid the snows of the St.
Bernard Pass. Hast ever heard of the St. Bernard, Tom, and the good
monks there?"
"I think I have," answered Tom, who had heard so many new things of
late that he could not be expected to keep them all in mind
together.
"Well, it may be we shall have to seek their hospitality yet;
although our way lies across the Little St. Bernard, as it is
called, that ancient pass which Hannibal and his host crossed when
they marched through the snows of Switzerland to pour themselves
upon the fertile plains of Italy. It is to this very day the only
route by which those snowy Alps may be crossed; and we must find
our way thither, Tom, and go down to the fair city of Turin."
"Is that where we are going?"
"Ay; hast heard of Victor Amadeus, Duke of Savoy?"
"Is he not one of the Allies?"
"Yes; albeit for a while he sided with the French King, who did
much to hold his fidelity. But now he is one of the Allies, and he
is sore beset by the armies of Louis. The King of Prussia is about
to send relief; but His Majesty is tardy, and the snows of winter
lie thick in his land, hindering rapid action. It is our part to
take the Duke news of the welcome aid, and of other matters I need
not be particular to name; and we shall need all our wits about us
to carry this matter to a successful issue."
"You mean that the pass will be watched?"
"Yes; we shall be certain to fall in with spies of the French King,
perhaps with Sir James himself. He has left England, so much is
known; and though he may be at the court of France, yet it may be
our hap to light upon him at any time. He is a man of cunning and
resource and ferocity. We shall want our best wits and our best
swordsmanship if we are to cope with him."
Tom's eyes sparkled with excitement and joy.
"And is the mountain pass the only way of getting into Italy, for I
have heard that Savoy lies in that land?" said Tom.
"Ay; Italy has had its strange vicissitudes of fortune, and has
been divided and redivided into duchies and kingdoms, till it needs
a clever scholar to tell her history aright. But it is enough for
our purpose that Savoy lies just beneath those grim mountains which
we must scale; and that for the present no other entrance is
possible."
"But there are other ways then?"
"Why, yes, we could at other times go by sea; but now that the
Spaniards are seeking to win back the rock of Gibraltar, which we
have lately reft from them, and which Marlborough says must never
be yielded up again, we cannot safely try that way; for we might
well fall into the hands of some Spanish vessel, and languish,
unknown and uncared for, in Spanish dungeons. We cannot travel
through France, and reach it from the shores of Genoa; because it
were too great peril for Englishmen to ride through the dominions
of the French monarch. So we must needs land at some friendly Dutch
port, and ride through their country, and so into Westphalia, and
thence to these mountain regions which cut us off from our
destination.
"Have you ever seen snow mountains, Tom, towering to the very skies
in virgin whiteness, with the rivers of ice, miles in width,
flowing silently down their rocky sides? It is a strange and
marvellous sight when viewed for the first time. I could find it in
my heart to wish I stood in your shoes, that all these new things
might be seen and heard for the first time!"
"And I would that I knew more of these strange lands, and the ways
of the people there," answered Tom; "for I fear me lest mine
ignorance may lead us into peril. But if such a thing as that were
to befall, I would lay down my life to save yours, my lord."
"I believe you, Tom," answered the other very gravely. He was
silent a while, and then he said slowly, "Tom, I am going to say a
strange thing to yon--at least it would sound strange to some; and,
indeed, I should not dare to say it to every companion in peril.
But I believe you to be stanch and true."
"I trust you will ever find me so, my lord."
"Well, Tom, this is the word that I would say to you. It may chance
that things come to this pass with us, that one of us twain must
needs fall into the hands of the enemy, and die; for there is
little hope of any other end when that befalls. And if we know and
can so arrange matters, it must be you and not I who will fall into
that peril."
Tom looked back without flinching.
"You speak well, my lord," he said. "It must be my lot to die. You
will not find me hold back when the moment comes."
Lord Claud took his hand and held it in both of his.
"It must be you, Tom; and yet I would rather it were myself. But I
have that intrusted to me which I must speak in the Duke's ear. The
despatches are as little compared with what I have had from
Marlborough's own lips--what may not be trusted upon paper.
Moreover, I could find my way through the countries, where you
would be lost for lack of words to ask your way. If one of us has
to be delivered over to death, it must be you."
"It must. I see it well."
"Yet we may both succeed in getting through, or we may both leave
our bones lying amid the eternal snows. Perhaps in years to come it
will matter little enough. Just now it seems a matter of more
importance. But I have told you this to show my trust in you, Tom.
There are not many comrades to whom I could have thus unburdened
myself. I should have had to use subtlety where now I use truth and
openness."
"You shall not find me fail you, my lord," answered Tom.