Tom Tufton's Travels by Evelyn Everett-Green (freda ebook reader .TXT) 📕

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."

CHAPTER VI. BARNS ELMS.

"You can ride, Tom?" Lord Claud had said, as they sauntered homewards from the poet's lodgings.

Tom replied that whatever else he was lacking in, he might certainly lay claim to horsemanship; and the pair walked on together, Lord Claud sunk in thoughtful silence, his companion always ready to give his attention to the sights of the streets, which had lost none of the attraction of novelty as yet.

"Ho! ho! ho!" laughed a voice behind them; "Master Tom the greengoose has found fine company!"

"A fine comrade, truly, will he find he has got! What becomes of all the strapping young fellows whom my Lord Claud takes pains to notice and befriend?"

"They are like the butterflies--flutter for a season and are no more seen after!"

"Or like the buzzing fly who is lured within the spider's web! 'Tis easy fluttering in, but there is no getting out!"

"Ay, ay, the gallows noose must feel mightily like the strand of the spider's web to the silly fly. And as the spider pounces upon his victim ere it be dead, and sucks away its life blood, so does the hangman cut down his victim alive and cut out his living heart! Oh, 'tis a fine sight! a fine sight! Young Tom must e'en go and see the next execution at Tyburn!"

These words were spoken with caution, and yet every one of them fell full upon Tom's ears. These ears, be it noted, were very keen ones, as is often the case with those who have tracked game and hunted the fallow deer in the free forest. Moreover, Tom had not yet grown callous to the sounds of talk and laughter in the streets. He must needs listen to all he heard, and these phrases were plainly meant to meet his ear.

He glanced at Lord Claud to see if he had heard, but there was no change in the thoughtful face. His companion appeared lost in his own reflections, and Tom, dropping a pace behind, looked back to see who had spoken.

As he had surmised, it was the four bully beaux whom he had met at the Folly the previous day. So much had happened in the interim, that Tom could have believed it a week ago. At his look they all burst into jeering laughter, but it did not appear as though they desired speech of him, or any sort of encounter, for they plunged hastily down a side street, and Tom saw that Lord Claud had just turned his head to see what hindered his companion.

"Pay no heed to drunken roisterers i' the streets, Tom," advised his mentor; "a quarrel is quicker provoked than mended, except at the sword's point, and unseemly is brawling at street corners. Yon fellows bear you some ill will for my threat yesterday. They will do you a bad turn if the chance offers. They are an evil crew, and my Lord Mayor has been warned against them ere now; but it is difficult in these days to give every man his deserts. London would be depopulated if all who merited it were transported to the plantations of Virginia."

A little later they met Harry Gay sauntering from one playhouse to another. He looked with a sort of amused surprise at Tom, who paused to send a message to Master Cale, to tell him that he would not be at home that night, and was not to be troubled after in any wise.

"Do you lodge with Lord Claud?" asked Harry, with a curious glance towards the elegant figure sauntering on, and exchanging bows with the fine ladies in the coaches.

"I know not; but I ride forth with him ere long on some errand I wot not of. Have no fears for me, good Harry, I can take care of myself well enow."

"You have good confidence, my young friend. I trust it is not the pride which goes before a fall. It savours of peril to steer one's bark over unknown waters, or to follow a road which leads no man knows whither;" and Harry nodded his head in the direction of Lord Claud, with a gesture that was as eloquent as any words could be.

"Tush!" answered Tom, with something of the careless indifference he had caught from Lord Claud and his associates; "I have come to see the world, and see it I will. If there be peril, why, so much the better. I am sick to death of sitting at ease in the safe shelter of home. A man can die but once, and he had better live first."

"Just so, just so," answered Harry with some emphasis; "that is exactly the sentiment I would most impress upon your inexperience. A man should live to drink the cup of life, ere it be snatched from his grasp."

Tom nodded and passed on, not pausing to ponder upon the meaning of the words he had heard. Indeed, he had small time to ponder, for his comrade was quickening his steps, and he had to hasten to reach his side.

"My stables lie this way. We will go and look at the hackneys, and make choice of one fit to carry those great limbs of yours, my worthy friend. As for me, a light-made barb will suffice; but it takes bone and muscle to carry all that bone," and he clapped his hand upon Tom's shoulder with a little laugh.

The stables were neither very bright nor savoury according to modern ideas, but for the times they were thought a marvel of perfection. Tom's eyes soon got used to the dimness, and he was quickly in a high state of rapture at the evidences of breeding and pace in the horses stabled there.

That they knew their master well was plain, for all heads were turned at the sound of his voice, and each animal gave a low whinny of pleasure at the approach of Lord Claud. He took carrots from a basket and dispensed them with impartiality to his stud; and, meantime, he and his head groom talked together in low tones, and presently Tom was called to the conclave.

"Nell Gwynne will carry you best, Tom. But she may give you a little trouble. It is not every rider she will brook upon her back; yet if you can master her, she will bear you to the world's end faithfully."

Tom approached the mare indicated, who looked at him, laying back her ears and showing the whites of her eyes, sidling a little over in her stall with the evident intention of trying to get a kick at the stranger. But Tom coolly walked up to her head, and began caressing her with a perfect fearlessness which presently disarmed her suspicion. She was accustomed to see men flinch and quail before her, and despised the race accordingly. But the few who bad no fear of her she recognized as her masters, and she gave them the love of her heart and the best of her powers.

"That will do, Tom," said Lord Claud's voice from behind; "you have won my lady's capricious fancy.

"Bring up the mare and Lucifer in an hour's time, saddled and bridled, and fed for the evening," he added, speaking to the servant; "you will probably have them back some time tomorrow, but of that I cannot speak with certainty."

He took Tom's arm as he left the yard, saying in his nonchalant fashion:

"Sometimes after one of these affairs of honour it is well to take oneself off for a while. Her Majesty is as much against the settlement of private quarrels by the appeal to the sword as ever King William was. However, fashion is too strong even for good Queen Anne. But it is better not to do more than wing your man. If you kill him, you run a risk of getting into trouble. But I have no intention of doing so, unless he provokes me beyond endurance."

"Is he a man of note?" asked Tom, with pardonable curiosity.

"In his way he is; you probably would not know the name; but he has friends in high places: He and I have never loved each other. He has balked me more than once, and I have had my revenge at the gaming table and in other places, which he is not likely to forgive or forget. The other day he sought to provoke me by almost open insult. It was not a woman, Tom. I have enough on my hands without embroiling myself in affairs of gallantry. There are women, doubtless, who are