Tom Tufton's Travels Part 24

The sounds of pursuit died away. Tom looked back, and found himself alone in the fields and copses. His quick turnings and doublings, and the choice of ground difficult for horses, had served his purpose well. He was safe, and he had his prize with him. His heart swelled with pride at the success of his achievement.

In a short while up rode Lord Claud, cool and smiling.

"Well done, Tom; that was gallantly done. But we have lost one of our good steeds, and you have lost your mask. I trust that none saw your face?"

"It came off when the horse plunged and reared, and I was c.u.mbered with the moneybags," answered Tom. "Yet I doubt if any who saw me would know my face again; the soot upon my forehead at least would make it hard to be sure of the face. And none were very nigh at hand."

"Give me the bags, and take you my stirrup, and we will wend our way back as fast as may be. You can run like a hare, Tom, as I have seen well. Can you run step for step with a trotting horse for some few miles?"

"Try me and see," answered Tom, who was not a little proud of his powers in this respect; and side by side through the misty summer's night stepped man and horse, both unwearied and full of courage.

Once Lord Claud insisted upon dismounting and letting Tom ride for a few miles; but for the most part it was Tom who trotted along step for step with the horse, thinking over the events of the night, and exulting in the triumph they had achieved.

They reached the inn outside St. Albans just as the dawn was breaking in the east. Not a creature was stirring as they stabled the horse and made their way into the house. Nor did they do this until saddle and bridle and moneybags had been safely locked away in the body of the carriage, which contained a cavity with a secret door, the trick of which seemed known only to Lord Claud. Then they went to their room, removed all traces of travel from their faces--as Tom had removed them from the horse in the stable just before--tied up their clothes in small compa.s.s, and got into bed just as the first sound of life began to be heard in the house.

Almost immediately then Lord Claud called loudly for the host, and bade him bring him instantly a hot posset, as he had had a touch of ague in the night. There was a good deal of bustling to and fro then, and servants pa.s.sed in and out of the room, seeing both travellers lying peacefully in their beds, as though they had slept there all night.

Lord Claud wrote a short note at once, and handed it to the host with a few whispered directions, to which the man replied with a nod and a wink; and then he took his posset, turned round and slept a while, and rose at the usual hour as though he had no reason for desiring longer rest.

This day was spent as the previous one had been, in paying visits and joining in fas.h.i.+onable amus.e.m.e.nts. The news that there had been a robbery on the highway of some gold about to be s.h.i.+pped to Holland for the troops excited a little commotion in the place, and once or twice Tom fancied that he saw curious glances levelled at himself and his companion. Lord Claud talked upon the subject with his usual airy negligence, but without the faintest hint of personal interest in the matter. Nor did he even "turn a hair" when rumour reported that there was a very decided clue as to the ident.i.ty of one of the band, who had been recognized by some travellers on the road, who were going in the same direction as the troopers, and had a.s.sisted them in pursuing one of the robbers. The man had escaped; but it was a.s.serted that he was known and could be sworn to at any time.

This was not pleasant hearing for Tom, but he showed a cool enough front at the time. It was only when alone with Lord Claud that he asked rather anxiously if he thought it could be true.

"I doubt it," was the reply; "it is a common thing for men to make the boast, but it seldom proves correct. Was it true that there were others besides the troopers on the road? I thought I saw more figures than I looked for, but knew not whether all were soldiers or not."

"There were others," answered Tom; "but I had no time to see what manner of men they were. There was much shouting and cursing, and I heard one man give an exultant laugh when I turned and fired; but more than that I know not."

Lord Claud looked thoughtful.

"Well, Tom, it boots little to meet danger half way. 'Tis always best to put on a bold front and set it at defiance. But this remember, that Nell Gwynne shall be kept in readiness for you by night and day. And if ever you have reason to seek to save yourself by flight, the horse is yours; there will be money and a few necessaries strapped to the saddle. Make your way incontinently to Captain Jack, who may always be heard of at The Three Ravens; and I will visit you there, and we will talk over the state of affairs."

Tom nodded, and looked a little relieved in mind; but he felt as though a cloud hung over his spirit despite his attempts at defying fate.

Next morning they started off in the carriage once more, and, to Tom's astonishment, with (apparently) the same two horses. He looked at his comrade for a moment in mingled surprise and admiration. Lord Claud gave an odd little smile as he replied:

"It is always well to be provided against accident, good Tom. Half the clever deeds of this world are rendered null and void because men forget to look ahead. We shall see the same persons driving back as we saw driving out. We must have the same steeds too, else would that dead horse lying in the fields tell a tale we would rather keep to ourselves."

CHAPTER XIV. THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES.

Back in London, his pockets full of money, fine clothes upon his back, and fine houses open to him when he went there in company with Lord Claud, it was small wonder if Tom forgot his fears after a few days of such a life, and was only rendered uneasy when whispers reached him from time to time to the effect that the authorities were hot upon the track of the daring highway robber who had succeeded in making away with the Queen's gold.

A reward had been offered for the discovery and apprehension of the miscreants concerned in the affair, and at first Tom had felt half afraid to show his face in the streets by daylight. But after a few days had pa.s.sed by, and nothing had happened to arouse his anxieties, he had taken heart of grace. Lord Claud's example of nonchalance gave him coolness and courage; whilst the language and behaviour of the fine folks with whom he came in contact helped to dull and deaden any pangs of conscience which the wickedness of the midnight raid might otherwise have occasioned him.

He saw perfectly well, from the glances of admiration and arch reproof levelled at Lord Claud by the ladies in the gay company which he kept, that his patron was suspected in many quarters of being concerned in this recent robbery. Fine dames would tap him with their fans, and ask him what he had been doing at St. Albans on such and such days; and when he replied as to his whereabouts with that easy grace of bearing which always characterized his dealings with men and women alike, they would shake their heads, flirt their fans, and call him by whimsical names incomprehensible to Tom, but which he knew implied that he was suspected of being concerned in very wild and lawless deeds.

Yet these suspicions on the part of the ladies raised this handsome golden-haired Adonis to a higher pinnacle of favour than ever. It seemed to Tom that so long as a crime was carried out with dash, and verve, and success, it only brought a man fame and honour. He s.h.i.+vered sometimes when he thought of his mother and sister, and what they would think if they suspected that he had been led into an open act of law breaking and robbery. But he felt a little flattered in the society of these fine dames, when he saw that they looked at him with interest and curiosity, and wondered if he had played the part of lieutenant to their hero in the recent exploit.

He had been growing used to the strange ways of that portion of the London world in which Lord Claud had his sphere, but even yet it did seem strange, when he began to think about it, that a man believed to be a notorious but exceedingly clever criminal, should be received, courted, flattered, and made much of, as was Lord Claud, just because of his handsome presence and das.h.i.+ng grace of bearing, and because he had never been caught.

Tom wondered sometimes how these same faces would look at them, were they to be carried in irons to Newgate; and he fancied that under such circ.u.mstances they would wear a totally different aspect.

But for the most part he sought to drown thought and reflection by plunging into a vortex of gaiety. He was no longer laughed at as a country b.u.mpkin. He had been quick to pick up the airs of a man about town. He dressed excellently, having toned down his first fopperies; and finding that a rich and sober style best suited his fine proportions, he adopted that, made his mark, and was treated with respect and courtesy.

He had not learned the jargon of the day, and was a silent man in company; but that was considered rather a distinguis.h.i.+ng trait in one who could handle the sword and lose his money at the gaming tables with the aplomb that Tom had acquired. And a fine sum did he lose, too, during the days that followed upon the escapade; for he felt a sort of recklessness upon him, and as he had a sense of being hunted down and tracked, he thought he might make the most of freedom and wealth so long as they were his.

He was Lord Claud's guest for those days, feeling safer in his company than elsewhere; and that worthy appeared not to know fear.

Indeed, he had succeeded in covering his tracks so well, that Tom did not see how anything could be brought home to his door. It made him think of words he had heard dropped before, to the effect that to be Lord Claud's confederate was to be also his victim. He wondered if there had been any truth in these insinuations, and whether he was trusting in a man who was ready to save himself at the risk of his friend.

It was difficult to believe this when in the company of his patron.

It was when alone that the doubts would at times a.s.sail him, and therefore he was happier in the company of Lord Claud than in any other.

He had not been to his old lodgings since his escapade. He felt an odd sort of reluctance to facing honest Master Cale, and parrying the questions which might be addressed to him. But he resolved not to let a second Sunday pa.s.s without a visit; and upon the Sat.u.r.day he returned thither, dressed in his sober riding suit, and striving to meet the welcome of his host with an air of unconcerned and natural gaiety.

"Good Tom, you are welcome indeed!" exclaimed the perruquier eagerly, taking him by the hand and drawing him within. "I have been suffering no small anxiety upon your account, my lad. I trust and hope without any cause."

Tom forced a smile, and hoped it was a natural one, as he asked gaily:

"And wherefore this fear for me, good mine host?"

"There have been ugly whispers in the air ever since the robbery of the gold on its way to Holland. Men will talk and wonder, and it was known to all that Lord Claud had driven forth the day previous northward from London, and that you were his companion. Men's tongues have wagged for less than that, Tom, and for less weighty matters."

The little man was scanning his guest's face somewhat earnestly.

Tom felt a most unwelcome qualm of shame and pain, such as he had only experienced before when thinking of his mother and sister.

"Why, Master Cale, Lord Claud 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, das.h.i.+ng 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 s.h.i.+ver 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 pa.s.s 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 pa.s.sed 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?"