Tom Tufton's Travels

"For she belabours him sorely with her tongue times and again, and ofttimes writes him fiery letters, which discompose him more than a reverse in arms. When she smiles, he is filled with an extraordinary joy; and when she frowns, he knows no peace till he has conciliated her. 'Tis the strangest thing in a man such as he; and the Queen is just as bad. In old days the woman would have been burned as a witch, for she has certainly bewitched that pair, though no one else can see wherein her wondrous charm lies."

Later on in the evening, when the company had somewhat thinned, and when the card rooms had drawn off a number of those who yet remained, the Duke was seen strolling by himself through the suite of rooms, exchanging friendly nods and words with the many eager acquaintances he met there.

Marlborough had that recollection of faces which is so often the prerogative of royalty; and he had none of the pride which hinders a man from greeting an old friend, even though his station in life was humble. The Duke had been but the son of a country gentleman, when he came to court as plain John Churchill. He had climbed the ladder of fame and fortune fast; but he remembered his former friends, and never forgot to salute them in company. His charm of manner was felt by all who came in contact with him. However worried or hard pressed, he never let his irritation be seen, and he never appeared in haste. He was as suave and gentle in manner amongst the humbler sort of company as in the presence of royalty itself; and his clear glance passed quickly from face to face as he talked, as though he were secretly taking the measure of men, although his languor of manner never varied.

More than once, as he walked hither and thither through the rooms, had Tom's glance crossed his. Possibly it was the young man's great height which took the eye of the soldier in the midst of this crowd, where smirking fops and bending courtiers predominated. Tom could not be accused of bowing or smirking. He remained the whole time leaning back against the wall in the same place; his face grave; his eyes following the movements of this or that person; his lips silent, because he could not frame them to the jargon of tongues and the stilted phrases of the day, and besides he had no acquaintances in this gay throng, save only Lord Claud himself.

Tom was looking in some curiosity to see if Lord Claud was acquainted with the Duke. He had never said so; but then Lord Claud was not given to boasting, and had already surprised Tom by the number of his notable acquaintances. The Duke was walking along, skirting the wall of the room. Everybody gave way for him to pass. He was now very near to Lord Claud, and not far from Tom himself, for his patron had been strolling idly in his direction.

Tom saw the eyes of the two men cross, and Lord Claud make his courtly bow, to which the Duke responded gracefully. Lord Claud took one step forward, and said in a low tone, every syllable of which, however, was audible to Tom:

"I have never before had the honour of speaking with your Grace; but there is one word that I crave to speak in your ear. If there be some secret mission of danger which the Duke of Marlborough desires to intrust to two men, stout of heart, cool of head, and skilled in the use of the sword, then I can promise that the services of myself and my trusty comrade here are at your Grace's disposal; and I think I can promise that, whether we succeed or not, we can be true to the death."

And Lord Claud, as he spoke, laid a hand upon the arm of the astonished Tom, who had certainly not understood his words of former days to mean anything quite so definite as this.

At the same time the heart of the youth leaped within him as he heard, and he felt a thrill run through his veins. As the soft yet searching gaze of the Duke fell upon him, he felt himself flush to the temples like a girl; and yet at that moment he felt that he could willingly lay down his life to serve so great a man as this.

"And who may have told you, sir, that I have need of trusty men for the secret service?" asked Marlborough, in his even tone.

"My knowledge of men and of warfare have told me," answered Lord Claud, with his accustomed serenity of manner. "True men are not to be plucked from every tree, as I have found to mine own cost. A man may prove but a treacherous reed, upon whom if one leans it goes into his hand. Therefore, your Grace, have I made bold to tell you of two trusty servants, something wearied with the hollow life of this great city, who are willing and ready to travel farther afield, and to whom peril or danger adds but zest to any quest."

Marlborough stood thoughtfully regarding the two men before him. Lord Claud returned his gaze by one full and calm; Tom's eyes glowed and kindled by reason of the keenness of the surging thoughts within.

"You are he whom men call Lord Claud," said the Duke thoughtfully. "You know that there are strange whispers afloat about you, my lord?"

"I know it well."

"And you have never denied those whispers?"

Lord Claud smiled slightly.

"My sword has answered a few taunts. For the rest, I heed them not overmuch. If we began to take cognizance of the chatterings of this world of magpies, we might have a duel to fight every day of our lives."

Marlborough smiled slightly at the nonchalance of the reply.

"That is all you have to say to me, Lord Claud?"

"That is all, your Grace."

For a moment there was silence, whilst the Duke bent his eyes upon the ground; then he looked straight at Tom.

"And who are you, young sir?"

Tom glanced at Lord Claud, but seeing that he was to answer for himself, he did so frankly and candidly. He was not ashamed of his humble birth, and made no secret of it; nor did he deny that he should never have found himself in such fine company save for the introduction and good offices of Lord Claud.

"And you desire to see foreign parts?"

"I was sent from home that I might do so. My father thought I might find room in your Grace's army to fight for my country. I was smitten so with the wonders of London that I have lingered here long. But I begin to weary of the life. I would gladly go forth and see new lands, the more so if I could travel with a comrade who knew to frame his tongue to foreign speech;" and here he glanced at Lord Claud, who seemed to him a notable linguist.

"You know no tongue but your own, Mr. Tufton?"

"Never a word; and even that I cannot speak as men speak it in London town, so that I am fain to keep silence in a crowd like this, lest men laugh me to scorn, and anger me till I say or do something unseemly;" and the lad's face flushed, for he had been sorely provoked before this, and had need of all his patience to quell the tempest of his soul.

The Duke smiled at this boyish frankness of speech; but then his face grew grave again, and he stood a while in thought. Then he looked at Lord Claud, and said with some significance:

"I will think more of this matter, sir. I have used strange tools before this, and ofttimes with success. The secret service has its secrets and its surprises; and I have my own methods of winning the fidelity of the messengers I employ."

"So I have heard, your Grace."

The two men looked full at each other, and the glance was neither unfriendly nor suspicious. It appeared to Tom as though there were mutual liking, and a disposition to confidence; but this was neither the time nor the place to indulge it.

"Till all this feasting and pageantry be over, I am not mine own master, and I can scarce find time for the needful business of the hour," said Marlborough; "but later on I hope to be free to spend a short spell of well-earned rest in mine own house of Holywell, hard by St. Albans. If you should receive a summons to visit me there, come privately, and bring your friend with you. It may be I shall make use of your services ere long."

With a slight bow, which was respectfully returned by Tom, and more gracefully by Lord Claud, the Duke moved away; and Tom's eyes were alight with excitement as he asked eagerly:

"What does it mean? What have you offered? What will he use us for?"

Lord Claud led his pupil away through the crowded rooms, out into the cold night air; but neither of them felt the cold. A keen excitement filled their veins as with molten fire.

"He rose to it!" quoth Lord Claud exultantly; "I saw it ever growing in favour as he turned it over. I have heard of his methods in the secret service. He spends more money, and gets greater results than any general has ever yet done. He says truth when he speaks of employing strange tools. Well, let him employ this strange tool-and it shall not play him false!

"My coffers are almost bare, Tom. And I am sick of crowds and foppery and the follies of the city. I would fain away on the back of my good steed, and feel what freedom is like once more. Gold I must have; and the King's gold is my fancy. Let me win it this time by my services, which shall be true and faithful; but if not-well, let them not say the fault is mine!"

"The Queen's, you mean," said Tom. "We serve our Queen now."

Lord Claud gave a short laugh.

"You speak sooth, honest Tom; we have a Queen now, and I would not do despite to our good Queen Anne! I was thinking of the last time I had won royal gold-then it was the King's money that replenished my empty exchequer!"

He laughed again, and Tom looked at him half uneasily; which perceiving, he changed his tone, and in a short time the youth had forgotten everything save the glorious prospect of adventure and peril, and the handling thereafter of golden treasure; for if the Duke was accounted a lover of money, no man ever accused him of showing meanness in rewarding the services of others.

The next weeks flew by almost like a dream for Tom; and truly he felt he must surely be dreaming when he watched the gorgeous pageant of the third of January, and witnessed from a commanding situation the grand procession of the trophies of war as it wound its way from the Tower to Westminster Hall.

Companies of horse and foot made a brave and gallant show; row after row of pikemen with the captured standards; a goodly number of the nobles of the land; and the great Duke himself, at whose' appearance the populace shouted till they were hoarse, ladies waved handkerchiefs, and the city seemed to go mad with joy and applause.

Almost grander still was the pageant three days later, when the victor of Blenheim went in state to the Goldsmiths' Hall, to a banquet given in his honour by the Lord Mayor and Town Council. He was conveyed there in one of the royal carriages; the greatest men in the kingdom, and some princely guests, accompanied him; and again the whole city turned out to give him welcome. At Temple Bar the city marshals received him in state, garlands were flung, and trumpets proclaimed the idol of the hour. The Commons were petitioning the Queen to suggest some fitting tribute for the services of so great a man; and the gift of the royal manor of Woodstock, and the erection by royal bounty of the palace of Blenheim (although after his fall and disgrace Marlborough had to finish the palace at his own cost) were the results of this appeal.

Tom witnessed all these brave sights, and had his head well-nigh turned by all the rejoicings in which the city took part. Even Master Cale scarcely chid him for the way in which his guineas were flying; although he warned Tom that they would not last long at such a pace. But Tom laughed now, and said he had the prospect of earning more when these were gone; and Lord Claud laughed lightly when the subject came up, and told Tom that the pleasantest way with money was to spend it freely whilst it lasted, and then turn to and get more. There were a hundred ways of doing this, he assured him; and Torn half believed him, and found it mighty pleasant to throw about his gold as the young bloods of fashion did, and have a pretty costly trinket to offer to Rosamund whenever they chanced to meet.

Master Cale would rather the child had not had these gay gewgaws forced upon her; but he could not chide overmuch when he saw the brightness of her eyes and the eagerness upon her face. Besides, Tom had already spoken of his speedy departure for foreign lands; and although Rosamund pouted, and professed that it was very unkind of him to go just when they had grown to be friends, her father saw no indications of deeper feeling. And, indeed, the maid had as yet no real love for any but her father. Tom had taken her fancy, as being the finest and handsomest youth she had ever come across, but she regarded him as a being quite out of her sphere; and though her heart fluttered a little at first sight of him, she could look forward to the thought of his absence with great equanimity.

"You will come back and tell us all your adventures," she said, as though that would make up for much; and Tom faithfully promised, although he fancied there might be many reservations in the tale he would tell.

One day before the month of January had fled Tom received a summons to Lord Claud's lodging. There he found everything in confusion, servants hurrying hither and thither, and the valet packing up some sober clothing in a small valise that could be strapped across a saddle.

When Tom came face to face with Lord Claud he saw a new expression in the eyes of his patron. All the languor and indifference had fled. His whole aspect was of a man bound upon some stern errand.

"Tom," he said briefly, "the time has come. Go home and don your stoutest riding dress. Take a second with you in saddlebag or valise; and hide such money as you have left somewhere upon your person. Then come back hither, and we will dine together. We are to start upon our journey this very day; and our first stage is Holywell House, near St. Albans."