"Why, Tom, my lad! Now this is a welcome sight in sooth! Verily it
is you yourself, else should I think I must sure be dreaming! Come
in, come in, lad, and a hearty welcome to you! Faith, we had almost
begun to give you up for lost! There be so many who go to foreign
parts, but return thence no more, and of whom nothing more is ever
heard. The Lord be praised that that has not been your fate!"
Cale had taken Tom by both hands, and was drawing him eagerly into
the house. The young man had entered the doorway just as the
shutters were being put up at dusk. The light lasted long now that
May had come, and Cale was about to step forth to take the air for
a while himself, when he beheld the tall figure darkening the
doorway, and saw that it was indeed Tom who was entering.
"Why, methinks you are taller than ever! and have gotten the air of
a man of travel! This will be news for my little Rosy tomorrow.
Why, it was but last Sunday, as we sat and talked of you, that the
tears came into her eyes, and she said she feared we should never
see you more! How she will laugh and skip tomorrow when she sees
you in your accustomed place!"
"It was kind of Mistress Rosamund to spare a thought for me," said
Tom, feeling that it was good to be welcomed home again so warmly.
Other home welcome had he not yet received, for they had not
returned by Holland and the port of Harwich. The good monks had
taken them the shorter way through France, and had seen them safe
upon a vessel bound for Southampton, where they had safely
disembarked a few days ago. They had spent their last money in
getting themselves clothing other than a monkish habit, and had
then ridden merrily to London in quick time. Tom had left his good
mare in Lord Claud's stable, and had marched off forthwith to
Master Cale's shop; whilst his companion had declared his intention
of making speedy application for the payment due to them for their
recent enterprise, which had now been successfully carried through.
"I would I could have seen the Duke himself," said Lord Claud; "but
he is gone back to the Hague, men say, and may be anywhere now. But
I shall lay my case before some of the ministers of the realm, and
claim our reward. The Duke of Savoy knows the value of the news I
brought him, and the labourer is worthy of his hire. You shall have
your share, Tom, when I get the gold; for you took your share of
peril boldly, and were a stanch comrade in all moments of danger.
You suffered more than I, and that shall not be forgotten."
So Tom felt light and happy of heart. He was back again in the old
country, hearing his native tongue once more around him, the
satisfaction of success in his heart, the experiences of a man of
travel giving him added dignity in his own eyes. If his purse was
light, he would soon replenish it; and in the welcome accorded to
him by the honest perruquier he felt the earnest of other welcomes
in store for him.
As they sat at table together the traveller told his adventures to
his host, Cale listening with eager attention, and rubbing his
hands softly together as he heard how Montacute had been outwitted,
and how he had been well-nigh throttled by Tom, as well as rebuked
by the pious monks.
"I have seen the fellow," he said thoughtfully--"he came here once
for a peruke--and a more evil countenance I have seldom seen. They
say he is half an Italian, though he passes here for an Englishman;
and that he is in the pay of the King of France is a thing commonly
reported. He has an evil face, and I hope we shall see it no more
in this land. You must have a care, Tom, if ever he crosses your
path again. He will not forget that grip on his throat in a hurry!"
"Nor I those lashes upon my back!" answered Tom between his shut
teeth. "He will find me ready for him whenever he wants! I am
sometimes fain to regret that I did not squeeze the life out of him
as he lay in my grasp, even as--well, others I know have regretted
that they did not run him through the heart in a duelling bout."
"It is not many who get that chance, if report speaks truth," said
Cale; "Sir James Montacute is reckoned a notable swordsman."
"He is no mean antagonist, truly," answered Tom, with a slight
smile; "yet I have seen a better."
The day following was Sunday, and eagerly did Tom await the arrival
of Rosamund, whom her father had set out betimes to fetch. But he
had promised to keep the secret of Tom's return for a surprise to
meet her on her arrival; and so, when she turned the corner of the
street upon her father's arm, laughing and chattering to him in her
brightest fashion, there was Tom standing in the doorway, clad in
one of his finest suits (left behind in the care of Cale), smiling
bravely, hat in hand, and looking altogether so grand and finished
a gentleman that at the first moment Rosamund could scarce make
sure if it was he himself.
But when convinced of this, her pleasure was pretty to see. She
made him stand by the window where she could see him; she looked
him all over, clapping her hands, and declaring that he had grown
so grand and handsome that she was quite afraid of him. But her
dancing eyes and laughing lips belied her words, and soon she was
chattering away in the old free style; and Tom sat looking at her,
thinking how pretty she was, and what a pleasant thing it was to be
home again after such a period of peril and adventure.
Of course he had to tell his story over again, whilst Rosamund's
face turned red and pale by turns, and her breath came fitfully
between her lips. She clung to her father's hand in a tremor of
sympathetic fear as she heard of the doings of that memorable night
in the rude hut amid the snows of the Little St. Bernard; but that
Tom was a greater hero than ever in her eyes, after she had heard
all, could not for a moment be doubted, and perhaps that was why
she felt that in him she could safely confide a secret fear which
was troubling her own mind.
She waited till her father had gone down to set the dinner upon the
table; but when once she and Tom were alone together she was not
long in opening her trouble.
"Do you remember those four ill men who set upon you in the street
that day when first you walked abroad with us?"
"Yes, I know them well--a set of cowardly braggarts and bullies!
Sure, Mistress Rose, they are not troubling you yet?"
"I fear me they are," she answered, with a shadow of fear in her
eyes. "I saw nought of them through the dark winter months. Indeed,
I had well-nigh forgotten that any such creatures lived. Then when
the spring days began to come, and the streets of the city became
gayer, I thought once or twice that I saw them in the throngs as we
walked hither and thither; but they never accosted us, and I gave
the matter little heed."
"Until when?"
"Until one evening in March, towards the end of the month, when the
daylight lasts till seven of the clock, and my father let me remain
later than usual with him, and then took me back as was his custom.
The roads were quiet, and there were few abroad as we neared
Highgate; yet I could not help thinking that I always heard steps
behind us, and ever and anon I looked over my shoulder. I did not
always see men following, but sometimes I did, and it seemed always
as though there were four of them together. Once I heard a laugh
that I seemed to remember, and I felt a qualm of fear, I scarce
knew why."
"You spoke no word to your father?"
"No; I thought myself the victim of some foolish fear, and I wanted
not to trouble him. He bade me goodbye at the gate, and saw me run
up to the house and let myself in. I went up straight to my window
to wave my hand to him as was my wont, and just at that moment four
men lounged by arm-in-arm with swaggering mien."
"And you think it was those same men?"
"I was almost sure of it, and hastily withdrew, glad that they did
not follow my father down the hill, but walked slowly on in the
opposite direction, and then turned and paced slowly back two or
three times. For though I did not show myself, I peeped out and
watched to see what they did."
Tom's face was very black. He had a keen personal hatred for the
four bullies, and a very strong interest and affection for Rosamund
herself. He saw she had still something more to say, and she drew a
little nearer as she added:
"And since then I have caught sight of them several times in our
lanes, walking up and down rather near the house, or hanging about
round the tavern at the crossroads where our lane branches from the
wider road. Once I am sure I heard their steps coming after me; but
I fled so fast they could not overtake me, and I dared not look
behind lest I should trip over a stone. I am almost afraid now to
leave the house alone, save in the early morning hours; and until
this happened I came and went freely, and my aunt is used to
sending me visiting to the neighbours. I like not to alarm her by
talking of these men, nor do I wish to cause anxiety to my father.
I have often wished I could tell you the tale, that I might ask you
what I should do."
The childlike appeal in the maiden's face stirred Tom to a
chivalrous desire to help her at all costs.
"Zounds!" he exclaimed, "but we will teach those curs a lesson they
richly need. As it is, they are becoming a byword even in London
streets. Hark you, pretty Rosamund, have no fears. I will get Harry
Gay to join with me, and together we will come to Highgate, and
hang about your house in concealment until these bold swaggerers
show themselves; and then we will set upon them, and give them such
a trouncing as they shall not quickly forget. And we will make them
understand that if ever they are seen there again they will receive
a like chastisement. After that I think you need feel no fear. They
are as cowardly as they are blustering, and love not the feel of
hard blows upon their backs, as we have good reason to know. Two of
us would be equal to vanquishing the four."
"And there is a strapping young farmer, William Long by name, who
would gladly lend you the strength of his right arm," cried
Rosamund, kindling into excitement. "He was lately wedded to my
best friend, Mary Baker, and they live not far from our cottage. I
had thought to speak to him if things went on so; but four to one
is long odds, and moreover he is something stolid in the head, and
might mistake his men, and so get himself into trouble."
The thought of a battle on behalf of his good friend's daughter was
congenial enough to Tom, who had always felt a strong personal
antagonism to these bullies; an antagonism warmly shared by Harry
Gay, who eagerly entered into the plan for freeing Rose of their
unwelcome presence in her neighbourhood. He was also an admirer of
pretty Rosamund, whom he had known from childhood, although they
did not meet very regularly, as Harry did not often intrude upon
Cale on the Sunday, when he knew he liked to have Rosamund to
himself. However, he knew very well the haunts most frequented by
the four bullies who had taken it into their heads to persecute the
perruquier's daughter. They probably bore Cale a grudge for his
action towards them upon the Sunday when there had been the fight
in the street; and certainly if he had had any idea that they were
seeking to touch him through his child, he would have been
exceedingly uneasy, and his business must have suffered.
"I will keep a watch upon them," said Harry Gay, who was quite
pleased to join with so great a man as Tom Tufton had become in
some affair of this sort; "I will have an eye to them, and if I
think they are starting off for the north of the town, I will run
at once and fetch you; and we will follow and outstrip them, for
they must needs stop at every tavern as they go, and we can slip by
and be ready for them at Highgate."
So Tom remained for the most part in and about his lodging for the
next day or two, pleased enough to watch the busy life of the
streets, and hear the gossip of the young dandies in Cale's shop.
No word of any kind came to him from Lord Claud during this time of
waiting; but Tom had no anxieties as to the money he was to receive
for his services, and Master Cale had still a few guineas in hand
from the sum left to pay for his lodging chamber in his absence,
which Tom had desired to continue to rent, that he might leave
there his worldly possessions.
It was on the forenoon of Wednesday that Harry came to seek him,
all eagerness and speed.
"They have started forth towards the north," he said, "and I heard
a few scraps of talk, and am certain that they are bound for
Highgate. We shall quickly overtake and pass them; and, with the
help of honest William, we will give them such a lesson as shall
make them avoid the locality for the rest of their lives, I hope.
So, if you are ready, let us be off."
Tom was ready in a trice, and very soon they found themselves
following in the track of the four young rakes, who were swaggering
along the sunny streets in their usual rolling way, accosting and
insulting the passers by, knocking citizens' hats into the gutter,
singing scraps of ribald songs, and ready to come to blows with any
other bullies who might run up against them.
But it was not long before they swaggered into an alehouse; and
then Tom and Harry went swiftly by, and, taking the straight route
up to Highgate, arrived there long before the others could be
expected.
Rosamund was tending her flowers in the garden when they came up to
the gate, and looked up with a smile and a blush. She was alone in
the house that day, she said, save for the servant woman, who was
very deaf. This suited very well for the present purpose, as they
did not desire that the aunt should be alarmed.
They bade Rose remain in the garden for the next few hours, and
they would hide in a clump of bushes at the corner and watch what
betided. Harry strode off to fetch William Long, who had promised
the help of his sturdy staff right willingly. In a short time the
three men were in their hiding place, whilst Rose went on with her
tasks amid the flowers, her heart beating a little with excitement,
although she felt no fear.
Presently the sound of lurching steps and foolish laughter
approached along the lane. Rose never looked round, but the colour
in her cheeks went and came. The steps presently stopped at the
gate, and those in hiding could see the four bullies, who were
already somewhat the worse for drink, leaning upon it and eyeing
the maiden at work with silly leers and nudgings.
"Pretty Mistress Rosamund," said Slippery Seal, in his most
wheedling voice, "will you favour a thirsty traveller with a cup of
water from your well?"
Rose faced round at that, her face flushed, but her manner quite
calm.
"If you are thirsty, sir, there is water to be had in the brook
yonder. My father would not have me speak with strangers on the
road."
"But, fair maid," said another, "we cannot sure be called
strangers. We have seen your rosy cheeks and bright eyes many times
before, we--"
But before he had finished speaking, Rose had turned her back and
was walking up the path towards the house.
"No, no, no!" cried Dicing Dick; "you do not run away like that,
pretty Rosamund!"
The next moment he had flung the gate wide, and the whole four were
making a dash up the path in pursuit of the girl. They had probably
learned from the servant at the inn that her aunt was out, and had
thought they could terrify her into doing their pleasure, and
setting food and drink before them.
But they did not get far. With a sound like a growl and a
yell--such as he had given when he sprang at Montacute's
throat--Tom dashed out from the thicket, and seized Bully Bullen in
a bear-like clasp. The other two were not many yards behind, and
immediately there was a wholesale scrimmage in the little garden;
the sound of blows and oaths resounded, and many a yell of pain and
rage told that one or another of the bullies had got a well-merited
chastisement.
It was not Tom's wish to use his sword, but he applied his good
cudgel freely to the back of the bully, who was more his own height
and make than any of the others. Bully Bullen swore, and raved, and
threatened, and made ineffectual efforts to draw his rapier and run
his antagonist through the body. But he had been drinking, and
neither hand nor eye were steady; whilst Tom's clutch upon his coat
collar, as he kept swinging him half off his feet, and laying his
stout staff to his back, almost throttled him, and rendered his
efforts abortive.
Once Slippery Seal showed himself worthy of his name, by slipping
through the clutches of Harry, and dashing to get a good blow at
Tom, for whom these four worthies had conceived a powerful hatred;
but Tom saw the advance, and cleverly swerved round, so that the
blow descended upon the luckless Bullen, who roared anew with rage
and pain.
"Let them go now! let them go!" cried Rosamund at last, half
frightened at the scrimmage, and almost ready to pity the ruffians,
who were getting so much the worst of it.
Lusty William had quickly laid Dicing Dick prostrate on mother
earth, and was giving a drubbing to Thirsty Thring, who was
helpless in his stout grasp. This attack, so unexpected and so
resolute, had quite taken the wind out of the sails of the
blustering four; and when, at Rosamund's cry, their antagonists
paused and gave to each a parting kick, they had no desire to do
anything but slink away with bruised shoulders--black rage in their
hearts.
"If ever you come prowling here again, I'll have my men and my dogs
out at you!" bawled William, whose blood was well up. "I live
handily, just behind yon clump of trees. Rosamund has but to lift
up her voice in a good screech, and I'll loose every dog in the
place upon you! You'll not forget the feel of their fangs so soon
as you'll forget the feel of my cudgel!"
That threat was quite enough for the bullies, they almost began to
run; but so soon as they had put the fence between themselves and
their antagonists, they paused and looked back, shaking their fists
in vindictive fury.
They seemed to divine that Tom was in some sort the originator of
this plan, and towards him was their chief malevolence directed.
"We will have our revenge for this, Tom Tufton!" they cried. "It's
your turn today, but it will be ours another. You shall rue the day
you made enemies of us!"
"Do your worst!" cried Tom scornfully. "Do you think I fear any
such ruffians as you?"
"Strike me purple!" raged Bully Bullen, using an oath which had
come into vogue since the terrible days of the Plague, "if I do not
make you bitterly repent this day's work, you insolent young
coxcomb!"
"Get off with you, or I call my dogs!" cried William, who saw that
Rosamund's cheeks were growing pale; and at this hint the bullies
made the best of their way out of sight, never to be seen again in
the neighbourhood where so many perils awaited them.
Rose was rid of her tormentors, but she cast apprehensive glances
in the direction of Tom.
"Can they hurt him?" she asked of Harry.
And he replied, with a light laugh:
"He looks a child that can stand up for himself!"
Nevertheless, after William had taken Rose to his house to pass the
rest of the time of her aunt's absence, and Tom and Harry were
walking southwards again, the latter said to his friend:
"All the same, Tom, I would have you take care of yon braggarts.
They are as evil a set of fellows as walk the streets of this city,
and if they could chance to do you an ill turn, be sure they would
not let it pass."
But Tom only laughed. He had passed through many perils of late,
and he felt that in the heart of this great city he could take care
of himself. A sort of careless self confidence had been his chief
peril through life, and his association with Lord Claud had not
tended to diminish it. In the presence of his patron, indeed, he
often felt of little account; but elsewhere he fancied himself
something of a hero, and was by no means disposed to tremble before
the malevolence of a set of swaggering bullies.
The town was very gay this bright springtide, and Tom was more than
ready to plunge into the vortex of such amusements as were open to
him. His lack of funds did not embarrass him, as Harry was ready to
lend him money, and he had some success at the dicing tables in
those coffee houses which he frequented. Gambling had not any great
attractions for him, but a little excitement did not come amiss,
and the fascination of winning was powerful.
Sometimes he was persuaded to try his luck at basset or ombre, and
here his lack of knowledge of the games often caused him to lose.
But he cared little, telling himself that he should soon have his
share of the reward offered by the Duke to his secret messengers;
and he plunged more and more deeply into debt, rather by way of
passing the time than for any particular delight in play. He had
not yet acquired strength enough to decline to share the amusements
of those about him. He kept up his sword practice in the mornings,
and took long walks with Harry Gay to visit different places of
interest in and about the city; but the afternoon and evening were
usually spent in some place of amusement, and little by little Tom
became impatient for his money. He had borrowed several times from
Harry; but he thought he ought to be hearing something from Lord
Claud.
At last he called at his rooms, and asked for him. He was asked to
wait, as Lord Claud was expected home shortly, and Tom's face was
well known to the valet. He went up to the familiar room, but noted
with surprise how many pictures and curios were missing from their
places. The rooms were comfortable, even luxurious, but they lacked
the costly elegance which had characterized them before. It seemed
to Tom as though Lord Claud must have been in need of money, too,
and have been selling his valuables to keep himself in funds. That
seemed a strange shift for one to whom the state owed so heavy a
debt.
Tom had perhaps sat still waiting for half an hour before the door
opened to admit Lord Claud, who came in with a dark look upon his
face, and threw down his hat and gloves upon the table with a
smothered oath.
Then he saw Tom, and the cloud lightened, although it did not
disappear. He shook the young man warmly by the hand.
"Tom, you are come in a good hour, and an evil one! I was just
wishing I had you to stand by me. What think you is the reply of
those to whom I have proffered my claim on our behalf? They will
have nothing of it. They will scarce give me a hearing. I may go to
the Duke of Marlborough with my tale, they tell me in some scorn,
as though incredulous of my words, but they will have nought to do
with it. And will not even make an advance, whilst they know that
to reach the Duke one must run many a peril and risk much money. It
is a shameful trick! I know they would not have dared treat all men
so, but they think they may put their despite upon me!"
He ground his teeth, and then broke out into strange wild talk
which Tom did not understand, though it inspired him with a sense
of great anger against those in high places.
Moreover, he was not a little disturbed on his own account by the
failure of Lord Claud. How should he pay his debts? How should he
live himself? Had he not risked his life for the sake of his
country? Had he not suffered scourging and sickness on her behalf?
It took very little of Lord Claud's fire to kindle an answering
flame in his own heart. His anger was always readily stirred, and
his appreciation of his own merit caused him to feel the more hot
and aggrieved.
"Tom," said Lord Claud suddenly, "there is one other way. If you
have a clear head, a strong arm, and a stout heart, there is yet a
hope that we may gain our ends."
Tom looked up eagerly. He saw something in Lord Claud's face which
seemed to him strange, and which inspired him with a sense of keen,
quick curiosity and excitement. He felt as though he were on the
verge of some new discovery. His breath came thick and fast, but it
was with eagerness, not fear. He had been so worked upon and played
upon by a master hand, that the thought of fear found no place
within his breast. What was this other way of which his master
spoke?
"The gold is ours, Tom. We have won it with the best that is in
us--with our heart's blood, as men say. It is ours. We have the
right to it. If they withhold it in injustice, have we not the
right to lay hands on it ourselves?"
"Ay, verily!" answered Tom in a whisper, his eyes fixed upon the
burning eyes of Lord Claud, which seemed to fascinate and hold him
as the snake does the bird.
Then Lord Claud approached and laid a hand upon Tom's shoulder, and
standing over him, talked long and earnestly in a low, quiet voice,
which nevertheless sounded trumpet-like in his ears.
Tom sat perfectly still, gazing at him and uttering no word, but
within his heart the fire seemed to glow and kindle; and when Lord
Claud paused and searched his face with his keen glance, he saw no
faltering there.
"Then we are brothers once again, Tom! Brothers now and always!"
"Now and always!" echoed Tom, in a voice almost the echo of Lord
Claud's. "Now and always!"