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

was but visiting his friends at St. Albans, far enough away from where they say the robbery took place. He will have no trouble in proving that he was never two miles from St. Albans upon that night; and I was with him the whole time, sharing his room and his company."

"Well, well, well," answered Cale, with a look of some relief, "I would never willingly believe harm of any man. But there are more strange tales flying about with regard to yon Lord Claud than about almost any other man in town; and folks say that many a likely lad, dashing and brave, has become confederate for a time with him, and has then vanished no man knows whither. I would not that such a fate should befall you, Tom."

A slight shiver ran through Tom's frame. He felt that there was an ugly suggestion in these words. How easily might some disastrous turn of fortune's wheel that other night have left him a victim upon those fields instead of the gallant horse who carried him! How skilfully and easily had Lord Claud played upon him, prompting him to an act which a few months ago he would have shrunk from in the greatest horror! There was something almost diabolic in the beauty, the fascination, the cleverness, of the man. Tom made a resolution, as these things flashed through his mind, that he would have no more dealings with him, if this was what they led to. He even began to doubt now whether it was true that he had applied in vain for the reward promised them for their secret service expedition. It might all be a part of a preconcerted plan, in order to cajole Tom into thinking he had some sort of right to act as they had done with regard to this money.

He began to feel doubts of everything now, and above all of himself. Had he been made a tool of and a dupe? And was he walking blindfold into a net ready for his feet?

He slept but restlessly upon his bed that night, revolving many things in his mind, and almost resolving to see Lord Claud no more, but to adopt a new method of life in this wonderful city, albeit he scarcely knew what that life should be.

Tom's hot blood had been fired by the adventures of the past months; his vanity had been flattered by the success which he had met with; his self confidence (always rather too strong) had grown and increased with great rapidity. He felt that without adventure and peril of some sort life would be tame and flat. To live as Master Cale lived, a quiet uneventful life of honest toil, seemed repugnant to him. Even to do as Harry Gay did, and pass the time in wandering between coffee houses and the play, or taking a wherry and rowing hither and thither on the great river, or walking or riding into the country--all this now seemed to him tame and tiresome.

He turned and tossed upon his bed, wondering what had come to him, and what life held in store for him. He thirsted for adventure, for the excitements and perils which he had experienced of late. His blood tingled at the memories he conjured up of those things he had passed through--the strife of arms, the fierce joy of battle, the breathless gallops from pursuing foes, and the hairbreadth perils they had come through.

That was life! That was what he longed after! He cared little for the gay resorts of town, save as an interlude. The life of the streets soon palled upon him. But there was no attraction in the thought of home and the peaceful existence there. He must see more of the world, he must enjoy more of life, before he could ever dream of going back to Gablehurst to live.

But what could he do? He fell asleep pondering upon this problem, and when he awoke it was the first thought in his head.

But, as is so often the case when one has gone to sleep pondering upon a problem, the solution had come to him during the hours of unconsciousness, and he awoke with a new inspiration.

"Why not offer for the secret service?"

Tom pondered this question all the while that he was dressing. There were difficulties in the way, of course. The Duke of Marlborough--the only man to whom he could apply with any hope of success--was out of the country; Tom knew not where he would be found just now, though that could easily be ascertained. He himself was ignorant of foreign tongues, although he had picked up a little understanding of French, and could speak a few simple phrases. But he had plenty of confidence in his strength and courage. He felt that his energies demanded now a wider field of exercise; and if he could but get his chance, he had full assurance that he would make a brilliant name for himself in some way or another.

This idea brought back all his high spirits. He saw that it would be necessary once more to consult Lord Claud, who would probably be able to give him excellent advice. But after that, Tom told himself, he would have no more dealings with that mysterious personage, but would throw himself into the service of the great Duke with such zealous goodwill as should lead him to fame and fortune at last.

He had a feeling, also, that he should be happier out of London and out of the country just at this juncture. Lord Claud's careless indifference to consequences had had its effect upon him; but he was not quite comfortable yet, and the feeling of being watched and hunted for was an exceedingly unpleasant one.

He felt a distinct qualm of uneasiness that very morning as he and his host sat at breakfast together.

"I am going to fetch Rosamund," said the perruquier, as the meal drew to its close; "but if you will take my advice, good Tom, you will not sally forth into the streets today."

"And wherefore not?" asked Tom.

"I misdoubt me that you are watched for here, Tom. It may be my fancy, but several times during these past days I have seen ill-looking fellows prowling nigh at hand--one or another of those four bullies, of whose discomfiture Rosy has told me, and young Harry also. Once the fellow they call Slippery Seal came boldly to the shop asking news of you from the apprentice; but the lad had the wit to reply that he thought you had ceased to lodge here. Nevertheless I have seen one or another of them skulking about since then, and it may be they will suspect that you may choose today for a visit to us."

"And what do they watch me for?" asked Tom, with heightened colour, but looking at Cale with an air of something almost like defiance, though his heart misgave him the while.

"Nay, Tom, that is a question you should be able to answer better than I. If there be no cause of offence against you, why, then, do as you will, and go where you will. Yet men have ere now been haled to prison and to the gallows for sins that have been less theirs than those who set them on."

Tom's face was very grave. He was not afraid of adventure and peril; but the thought of prison and disgrace--to say nothing of a felon's death--seemed to paralyze the beating of his heart with a numb sense of horror. Truly, if this sort of danger dogged his steps, the sooner he was out of the country the better for himself!

But he would see Rosamund once more, and spend one happy day in her company. If he went out into the streets, it had better be after the summer dusk had fallen, when Cale took his daughter home. He agreed, therefore, to remain within doors all that day; and he was not sorry he had done so when presently he observed two of his enemies slowly prowling past the house, scanning the windows furtively, and talking together in very earnest tones.

Could it be possible that these men had been of the company travelling with the troopers that night? Could they have got wind in some mysterious way of what was afoot, and have followed to seek his ruin? Tom had reason to know that these men bore him a grudge, and had threatened revenge, and that they hated Lord Claud equally with himself. Harry Gay had warned him that they were dangerous fellows; and Tom had not lived all this while in London without being well aware that there were ways and means of obtaining information, and that every man had his price. If they suspected him to be concerned in the robbery, they would take every possible means to hunt him down.

Tom set his teeth as this thought came to him. To be the victim of the spite of a party of low villains, who were only fit themselves for the hangman's halter! The thought was not to be borne. Better, far better, the life of the forest with Captain Jack! There at least he would be free of this persecution; and perhaps the day would come when he should find his foes at his mercy, and take his revenge upon them!

A very little brooding of this sort sufficed to set Tom's hot blood boiling. He had no wish to join himself with freebooters and law breakers; but if they hunted him beyond a certain point, he would not hesitate to fly to those who would give him safety and a welcome. He had heard plenty of tales by this time of impoverished gentlemen, disbanded soldiers, falsely-accused persons of all sorts, who had been forced to fly to the freedom of the forest, and live as they could. Since the days of bold Robin Hood there had always been outlaws of the better, as well as the worse, sort. Tom had no wish to throw aside his code of morality and honour; but if men would not let him live as a peaceable citizen, they should suffer for it!

To be cooped up in dusty streets amid hot brick walls during these long beautiful summer days, was a thing not to be endured. Go he would and must; and if he could not find work for himself in the secret service, why not enter a secret service of another kind, and teach the authorities not to hound a man too far?

This was Tom's method of reasoning--evading the question of his own guilt by the excuse that he only took what was his by right. It is easy to believe what one wishes to believe, and Tom had never found it hard to persuade himself that what he desired was the best course of action to pursue.

How cool and fresh the green glades of the forest would look in the glancing June sunbeams! A good horse beneath him, the free skies above, a trusty comrade at his side--what could be more pleasant? Tom drew a deep breath and fell into musing thought. One thing was very certain: he was in danger from those enemies of his. He would take care not to be caught like a rat in a trap. He knew a better way than that!

In musings such as these time swiftly fled away, and soon he heard the voices of Rosamund and her father in the house below.

Rosamund greeted him with shining eyes, and a glance of keen curiosity and soft admiration, which he found mighty pleasant. She at least had not harboured unkind thoughts of him, and it was very plain that he had become the hero of her girlish dreams. She wanted him to tell her all that had befallen him since their last meeting. She listened with eager, breathless attention to what he had to say; and although he spoke nothing of the one event which was always in his thoughts, it seemed as though she half suspected that he had been the witness of, or the partaker in, some strange and fearsome adventure, for the colour went and came in her cheeks, and she seemed always waiting for more each time that he paused.

She asked in a low voice if he had heard anything of the bold act of robbery; and Tom answered that he had heard a good deal. Coming a pace or two nearer him, she looked wistfully into his face and asked:

"Have they told you that there was one man of very goodly height, strong of arm and stout of heart, who dropped his mask in the heat of the fray, so that the moonbeams smote full upon his face, which was only blacked above and below? Did you hear that news spoken by any?"

"I think I heard that something of that sort had befallen," answered Tom as carelessly as his beating heart would allow.

"But oh, sir,"