Tom Tufton's Travels

So they sallied forth together, and Master Cale played cicerone, and showed Tom many strange and wonderful things, telling him absorbing stories the while. He showed him the limits of the ravages of the Great Fire, which he could remember well, as he was ten years old at the time. He took them into many of the churches afterwards built by Wren, and Tom stood lost in amaze at the magnificent proportions of the great St. Paul's, the inside of which he had not seen till today. He was shown also the site of one of the Great Plague pits; and Rosamund clung trembling, yet fascinated, to her father's arm whilst he spoke of the things that had happened in those gruesome days.

He himself had been sent away into the country during the terrible visitation; but his father had remained and had survived, and from him he had learned all manner of strange tales, which Rosamund loved to hear him tell, though they always blanched her cheek, and brought a look of terror into her pretty eyes.

Tom thought this was a pleasanter way of spending the afternoon than listening to the braggings of the coffee house bullies, or watching the mummery of the play, when scarce a word could be heard from the actors, owing to the laughter and talk that buzzed all round the house. The clamour from the footmen's gallery alone almost sufficed to drown the sound from the stage; and, indeed, a short time later on, the disgraceful behaviour of the servants who attended their masters and mistresses to the play became so intolerable that the free gallery was closed to them, causing regular riots every night, till military aid had to be summoned.

But Rosamund thought it must be delightful to see a play, and wanted to hear all he could tell her about it; and so well pleased were the pair with their conversation, that Master Cale, bethinking him of an old friend hard by, with whom he liked to exchange a friendly word from time to time, bid them walk up and down the street together for a brief time, until he should pay his visit and join them again.

This suited the young people very well, and they exchanged a good many confidences together. Tom told her of his home at Gablehurst, and of his mother and sister, and the father who was gone; and she told him of her quiet life in her aunt's house, and how she would so greatly like to remain always with her father, and watch the life of this wonderful city.

But Tom could well understand how the perruquier would shrink from permitting his innocent and pretty daughter to dwell beneath his roof. His trade brought thither all manner of fine dandies and young bloods, and if it were known that there was a pretty maiden within doors, there would be no end to their attempts to get sight of or speech with her; and any girl's head might be turned by the flowery nonsense that would be spoken and written to her.

"Believe me, you are better where you are, Mistress Rosy," answered Tom. "I would not have my sister Rachel here, now that I have seen what London is like. It is a place for men to see at least once in their lives; but women are better away from it. I looked about at the painted faces, the towering heads, and the huge hoops the other night, and I said to myself, that if my mother or sister were to make of themselves such objects as that, I should be ready to sink into the ground for shame-to say nothing of the ogling, and fan tapping, and silly jargon of talk which would put a chattering monkey to shame!"

If Tom was quoting Lord Claud's moralizings, he quoted them in all good faith; for he had been honestly disgusted by the glimpses he had had of the goings on of fine ladies in their houses, and could better appreciate the simplicity and true affection of his own womankind than he had ever done before.

At this moment there smote upon his ears the unwelcome sound of mocking laughter that seemed familiar to him.

"Ho, ho, ho! So the country bumpkin has found a mistress already! So he has had to leave the fine ladies, and mate with one of his own sort after all! Ho, ho, ho! She has a neat foot and ankle, at any rate! Let us see what sort of a face there is under the crimson hood!"

Tom felt the girl's hand clutch fast hold of his arm, and his blood began to tingle in his veins. He was mightily glad that he had buckled on his sword before coming out; although, as he had put on a heavy cloak, it was possible the bullies were not aware of that.

"Which house did your father enter, Mistress Rosamund?" he asked quickly.

"I did not note," she answered, looking round with frightened eyes; "but methinks it was the one with the steps and the little recess."

Tom, making a few rapid strides, whisked her quickly within the shelter of the doorway, saying, as coolly as might be:

"Knock, and ask to join your father, if he be within. I will soon settle these impudent fellows behind."

Then he faced about quickly, just as the four bullies he had met before came swaggering up, ready for any mischief and fighting that might be afoot.

"Come, Master Greengoose, let's see what sort of taste you have in faces! You are a fine hand at making friends! Let's see how you fare with the ladies!

"Nay, mistress, do not turn so coyly away and draw your hood over those bright eyes-"

But the speaker got no further, for Tom's sword bad come flashing from its sheath, and with a quick turn of the wrist he hit the fellow full on the mouth with the hilt, so that he fell back spluttering and swearing, the blood starting from his lips.

"Is that enough," said Tom sternly, "or will you have more?"

It was Thirsty Thring who had received the buffet, and he was the least disposed of all that worthy quartette to show fight to a resolute adversary; but Bully Bullen came swaggering up, drawing his sword with a great air of assurance. He had been the hero of many a tavern brawl before, and reckoned his skill as something to be feared.

"So, young rooster! Wouldst crow so lustily on your dung heap? D'ye think you're to be cock o' the walk in all London town? Are honest citizens to be set upon, and their teeth knocked out, to please your lusty humours? Take that, you young cub, and learn manners to your betters!"

He made a fierce and sudden lunge at Tom as he spoke, expecting that he had an untrained and inexperienced adversary to deal with. But Tom had had three lessons already from Captain Raikes, as well as bouts with Lord Claud by way of amusement; and with hardly a perceptible effort he parried the thrust, and making his keen blade twine round the clumsier one of his opponent, he jerked the weapon clean out of his hand, and sent it flying half across the road.

"A fig for your boasting!" he cried contemptuously. "You had best get out of my sight, lest I run you through for your impudence!"

Slippery Seal, seeing how matters were going, now raised a cry for help.

"Help! help! Watchmen, to the rescue! Here is a desperate young ruffian seeking to murder the Queen's subjects in broad daylight! Help, I say, and take the young braggart before the magistrates! Cannot peaceable citizens walk the streets without being set upon by such bullies as that yonder?"

Two watchmen at that moment came hastening up, and looked at the combatants with questioning eyes. Tom was flushed, and his sword was still in his hand; but Rosamund had been admitted to the house, and was going hot-foot in search of her father, to come and put a stop to the fight; for she bad perfect faith in his power to do anything he had a mind to.

"We four can testify," said Slippery Seal, with a voice of great unction, "that as we were peaceably passing down the street, this young fellow, of whom we know no good, made a sudden and unprovoked attack upon honest Master Thring there, whose mouth is still bleeding from the blow. Thereupon Master Bullen drew his sword to protect him; but he was set upon so furiously, that had he not been a notable swordsman he must needs have been killed. As it was, his sword was dashed from his band, and there it lies in the roadway before your eyes. I say, how long are pious and peaceable citizens to be treated thus? Do your duty, my good fellows, and take this young man into custody. A taste of the stocks will do him a vast deal of good, and we will bear testimony against him with right good will. 'In the mouth of two or three witnesses-' you know what says the Scripture."

"Ay, you blasphemer and liar, we know well what says the Scripture: 'Thou shalt not bear false witness;' and again, 'The mouth that speaketh lies shall be stopped.'"

Looking round quickly, Tom saw Master Cale, with his daughter clinging to his arm, standing in the doorway of the house, and sternly regarding the scene.

"Watchmen," he said, "if you make any prisoners today, take you those four bullies, who are but too well known in these streets already. It is they who delight to set upon strangers, and insult and frighten innocent maidens. Take you them, and I will bear witness against them; for I saw the scene with my own eyes. Would to heaven that honest citizens could rid their streets of such spawn!

"But I tell you, you mischievous scum, the day will come when we will no longer stand this swaggering and bullying. We are a patient people; but you can provoke us too far. I know you four right well. I would sit you in the stocks in a row, or have you whipped at the cart's tail from Newgate to Tyburn; and perchance the day may come when-"

But the miscreants did not wait to hear the end of this harangue. They well knew that no tale of theirs could stand for a moment before the witness of a man respected as Master Cale the perruquier. Fearful lest the watch, who had let go their hold of Tom, should in turn lay hands on them, they fled helter-skelter, but as they went they breathed out threats of being even with Tom another time, and he knew well that this encounter had changed them from the merely jeering enemies they had shown themselves at first into real antagonists full of bitter animosity and hatred.

The watch were never too eager to take up evildoers who were possessed of swords and were strong of body. They were glad enough that Master Cale had vouched for Tom's honesty, and that the other four had betaken themselves away. Hard knocks and sometimes fatal injury were often the portion of these old men, so incapable of keeping order in the streets; and thankful were they when any fray ended in the manner of this one.

But Cale's face was rather grave as he turned homewards, his daughter clinging to his arm, and Tom marching upon her other side with his head high in the air.

"I thank you, my good lad, for being so stout a champion to my little girl," he said; "and yet I would it had not happened; for it is ill work making enemies in these days of lawlessness and duelling."

But Tom gave a little laugh. He had no desire to make boast of his prowess; yet he felt that he could settle a score of quarrels with such besotted creatures as the four he had put to rout so lately, and be no manner the worse for it himself. He was not at all sorry for the adventure. He felt a flutter of pride and pleasure in the shy glances shot at him from the dark eyes beneath the crimson hood. He had made of himself a hero in the eyes of pretty Rosamund, and he liked that experience well enough.

"Fear not for me, my good friend," he answered, in a tone that had caught a little of the lofty ring of Lord Claud's.

"A man cannot go through life without making enemies as well as friends. But as for such creatures as we have just quitted, why, they are not worth a thought! I heed them no more than the wasp that buzzes round my head. They are the scum and off scouring of the earth-all brag and boast, but ready to run at the first hint of danger!"

Rosamund's eyes shot forth another look of admiration; but Cale said quietly:

"Yet it is this very scum and off scouring of the earth who have before now kidnapped and shipped off to the plantations of Virginia honest men of stout heart and stalwart frame; for there is great demand for able-bodied men there, and good prices are paid for bone and muscle. So again I say, have a care, Tom, have a care. I would not have you entertain one coward fear, yet I would have you careful not to provoke needless animosity; for we live in perilous and evil days."

The colour had faded from Rosamund's cheeks at these words, and she timidly laid a hand upon Tom's arm as he marched beside her.

"Fair sir, you will be careful," she said, in a soft and pleading voice. "If hurt were to come to you for having so gallantly befriended me, I should know no peace or happiness again!"

Tom looked with a smile into the face of the speaker; and Cale heard the words, and saw the look. He gave a little sigh, and walked on in deep thought.

It was Tom and Rosamund who did the greater part of the talking, even after they got home and partook of the dish of tea. This then costly beverage was reckoned by Rosamund as a Sunday treat, and sipped with great relish; and Tom took it for the first time, saying he would e'en make shift to like it, since Mistress Rose vouched that it was good, although he had hitherto refused it when offered at the houses of the fine folks he had visited.

So in talk and tea drinking an hour slipped away; and then the perruquier rose and bid Rosamund get her hood and come; for it was high time to fetch her aunt, and go back to Highgate.

Tom would have liked to accompany them once more, but some instinct restrained him from making the offer. He bade adieu to Rosamund at her own door, and went back to sit by the fire and muse of all the things that had happened to him during this momentous week.

CHAPTER VIII. THE GREAT DUKE

"Now, Tom, keep your eyes well open. He is about to appear!"

Tom was standing, tall and silent, feeling singularly out of place in that gorgeous company, in a magnificent reception room, brilliantly lighted, and crowded from one end to the other with a throng of highly-born and fashionable persons.

He had been introduced by Lord Claud into this gay assembly, and was already half disposed to wish himself away.

Tom had been several weeks in town now; and after his first encounter with Lord Claud, which had led to such close intimacy for a few days, he had seen nothing of that remarkable personage for the space of two or three weeks.

Although perhaps a little piqued that his patron had not sent him so much as a line of invitation, or seemed to remember his existence, Tom was not sure that he regretted his lack of memory. Lord Claud had certainly fascinated his imagination, and won his affections; but he seemed to be a mysterious character, whose friendship might not prove too desirable a possession. It was not his place, he thought, with the simple pride of the countryman, to seek to thrust himself upon a man so much greater than himself. So he had gone about seeing the sights of the town with Harry Gay, spending his money with some freedom, and indulging in a little play and dicing at various houses of entertainment. But he kept within moderate bounds in his pleasures, both because he desired to eke out his funds as far as possible, and because he did not wish to fall under the displeasure of his kind host, Master Cale, the father of pretty Rosamund.

Tom thought a good deal about Rosamund during the week, and regarded Sunday as the red-letter day of his calendar. Master Cale did not forbid him to be of their company upon the afternoons when they walked abroad, and he and the maid were excellent friends by this time, and exchanged many gay quips and sallies together. Rosamund always made him tell the story of his past week in some detail; and Tom had therefore another motive for keeping free from scenes and company which would have made his story unfit hearing for her pretty ears.

Already he had begun to think that when he had travelled and seen the world, and was ready to go home and take up the duties which at five and twenty would devolve upon him, he would return with far greater contentment and pleasure if he could take back Rosamund as his wife. He could not fancy that any life would be dull and monotonous shared with her, nor any home dreary that was lightened by the sunshine of her presence.

The image of Rosamund had begun almost to obliterate that of Lord Claud in his imagination, when suddenly one day he found himself again in company of that gentleman at the coffee house he generally frequented.

Lord Claud laid a friendly hand upon his shoulder, saying, with a light laugh:

"O Tom, Tom, whom I called so trusty, I fear me you are as fickle as any maid! But what does the prophet when the mountain will not come to him? He even puts his pride in his pocket and goes to the mountain. You are a solid mountain in your way, good Tom; and here is the prophet come after you!"

Tom looked up, half ashamed, half flattered, the charm of Lord Claud's presence beginning at once to make itself felt.

"My lord, I could not think you wanted such a humble person as myself! And you had but to send me a line to Master Cale's if you did," he stammered.

Lord Claud dropped into the seat next him, laughing a light, low-toned laugh.

"I like your simplicity, my honest Tom. Keep it as long as you can; for it is a quality rarely met with in these days, and smells as sweet as lavender in country gardens. I have not been wont to need to ask my friends to visit me. They swarm about my rooms like bees round honey, so long as there be honey to gather from my hive. How do you think you are going to live, my young friend, when your store of guineas is melted, if you have not learned that noble art of picking and stealing, which our young blades of fashion practise with such success and grace?"

So the acquaintance was renewed, Tom quickly falling again beneath the spell of the strong personality of Lord Claud. He had not entirely ceased his sword practice with Captain Raikes during the past weeks, and now was to be found at his hall almost every day. Lord Claud himself would sometimes come and watch and applaud; and more than once, as the two had walked away together, linked arm in arm, his patron had said:

"Good swordsmanship is an art to be greatly prized. It makes a man respected and feared. It gives him distinction with his fellows. Besides, one never knows when it may be useful for the saving of one's skin. A man who can wield the rapier with skill, master his horse as you can, honest Tom, and shoot fair and true with pistol and musket, may go through life to a merry tune, and even die at last in his bed, if he has a mind for so respectable an end!"

The days were shortening to their darkest by now. Snow fell in the streets, and made walking disagreeable. Tom found it pleasant to ride along beside Lord Claud, mounted upon the mettlesome mare, Nell Gwynne, who appeared kept just now for his especial use and behoof. He still spent his Sundays at his lodgings; but pretty Rosamund was not always able to come across when the snow lay deep along the country roads. Tom began to think less of her again, and more of his patron and friend; being, as may have already been gleaned, a youth of impressionable nature, easily moulded by the character of his associates, although not without a latent firmness of will which might develop into sterling metal in time, though, perhaps, not until the admixture of dross had been purged away by the action of the furnace of trial.

All London was now agog over the return of the victor of Blenheim. The great Duke of Marlborough had been upon his way home for some time. In the middle of December he reached London, and took his seat in the House of Lords; and it was said that early in the next year there would be a monstrous fine procession from the Tower to Westminster, in which all the trophies of war would be solemnly paraded.

Tom was as excited as anybody over all this, and as eager to obtain sight of the great Duke. Lord Claud had promised that he should not only see him, but be one of the same company at some fine house where he would show himself. Tom had often been to grand enough houses already with his friend; but it seemed to him overmuch to suppose that he could be introduced into any company of which the Duke of Marlborough was to be a member.

Lord Claud, however, was not given to vain boasting. The open-house festivities of Christmas were approaching. He himself had won the entree to an extraordinary number of fashionable houses; and this evening here was Tom, come with his patron to a nobleman's dwelling, standing in the crowd of fashionable grandees, all in a flutter of excitement to see the hero of the hour at close quarters.

"Keep your eyes open, Tom; you cannot fail to see him as he passes through the room. You are lucky in being able to look over the heads of all the crowd. No tiptoeing lady can intercept your view even with her towering headdress!"

This was hardly true; for there were ladies whose headdresses were of such monstrous proportions that the dame of five feet stood seven feet high, taking the heels of her shoes and the tower on her head into consideration! But luckily these extravagant follies were confined only to the few, the majority of the ladies being content with a headdress of more moderate dimensions.

There was a great buzz of talk going on as it became known that the Duke was approaching-some eager to know if the Duchess would be with him; others laughing at the name, and vowing that Mrs. Morley could never bear to part with her dear Mrs. Freeman even for an hour!

The doors at the end of the room were thrown suddenly open. The master of the house appeared, leading with great distinction of manner a little knot of guests, who passed through the crowded outer reception room at a slow pace, returning the many salutations of the company with great show of goodwill, disappearing presently behind the curtains which shut off the innermost room where the lady of the house was awaiting them, with some of the more select and high-born guests.

"That is the Duke," said Lord Claud to Tom, indicating a tall and elegant man, who looked to him hardly old enough for the general of so many victorious battles. He was singularly handsome, with a languid grace of bearing that seemed strange in a soldier. He spoke in a peculiarly modulated and refined voice, and plainly possessed the art of saying the right thing to the right person, and that at the right moment. His silver tongue had done as much good service in keeping the Allies in harmony, as his military genius in forming combinations and defeating the ends of the enemy.

At his side was the Duchess, a fine-looking woman of commanding presence, not beautiful, but with a very elegant figure and remarkably abundant hair, which she wore in a more tasteful way than most of the company. A few paces behind came another notable figure, that of Marshal Tallard, the French general whom Marlborough had taken prisoner at Blenheim, and whom he had brought with him to England; but whom he treated with every courtesy, and with whom he bad formed something very like a real friendship.

Lord Claud whispered to Tom that Marshal Tallard had been the one French general whose genius was in the least able to cope with that of Marlborough; and to have him in safe keeping in this country was a most excellent thing for the Grand Alliance.

As soon as the distinguished guests had disappeared, the buzz of talk rose louder than before. Tom asked, in puzzled tones, what all this chatter about Mrs. Morley and Mrs. Freeman meant; and Lord Claud laughed, as he replied:

"Have you never heard of the whim of the Queen to call herself Mrs. Morley in her letters to the Duchess, who in her turn is Mrs. Freeman? And very well is she so named, for never was subject more free with sovereign than is Duchess Sarah with good Queen Anne. Indeed, there be not those lacking who say that such freedom cannot go on for ever. However fondly the Queen may love the Duchess now, she cannot for ever submit to be the subject of her subject. Some day there will be a storm, and then it will behove Mrs. Freeman to sing to a different tune! For the Queen has a will of her own when once it is roused, and can show a stubborn front when she chooses-as some of her ministers have already found to their discomfiture!"

Lord Claud strolled away presently, leaving Tom to look about him and listen to the idle chatter of the shifting throng. He made out that though the Duke of Marlborough was in great popular esteem, his Duchess was little liked; and spiteful things were circulated to her disfavour all round the room. It was plain that she had a very overbearing temper, and made many enemies; but her affection for her husband and children was never disputed, nor his for her, though there were many who marvelled what a man of his parts could see in such a shrew to be so devoted to her as had always been the case.