Tom Tufton's Travels Part 27

"She is yours, Tom, from this moment," said Lord Claud, signing away the servant, and himself holding her head; "take her as the gift of one who is neither so indifferent nor so callous as you may think. Here is a purse of gold, too, Tom--all your own, my lad, so shrink not from taking it. Tom, whatever be the end of this friendship betwixt us, believe that I have loved you. It is my luckless lot to bring misfortune at times to those who consort with me; yet methinks they have their fierce tastes of joy, too. Tom, I shall not forget you. I shall hear of you. I shall sometimes see you; and I shall be your friend, whether or not you believe it now.

You shall not always need to dwell in the forest. You shall return thence with fame and fortune secure.

"But, for the present, farewell. Captain Jack will give you welcome. He will be looking to see you. He will welcome you gladly.

You will find it no such bad life, believe me. But delay not longer. Be off!"

Tom was in the saddle, and the mare reared beneath him with a snort of glad antic.i.p.ation. She had done no work this many a day, being kept in readiness for Tom's use, with only the needful modic.u.m of exercise up and down within hail of her stable.

Lord Claud stretched out his hand, and Tom put his within it. After all, he loved this man in spite of all his faults and follies, and the strange reputation which clave to him. He might be false, but Tom had trusted him, and he desired to trust him to the end.

Then he rode forth in the soft summer darkness, turning the mare's head westward at first, to get clear of the streets and houses, and only heading her north and then east as he made a wide circuit of the city.

To ride through it would have been to court capture; and even as it was, as he sprang forward upon the better road which lay straight for the forest to the northeast, he had a suspicion of being followed, although he could see nothing as he looked back.

The mare bounded beneath him with great, elastic strides. He could afford to laugh pursuit to scorn. Perhaps this confidence made him careless, for he noted not two motionless figures, lying as it were in ambush, one on either side of the road in front, just where a clump of great trees threw a deep shadow across the road. He had thought of foes following behind; but he had not thought of their forestalling his movements and waiting for him in advance.

The mare saw them first, and swerved violently. That swerve most likely saved her life, if not Tom's, for at that identical moment two shots rang out, and Bully Bullen with a shout of triumph sprang forward, certain that his bullet had found its billet, and that Tom was in his power at last.

The fire long smouldering in Tom's breast burst out now into a fierce flame. His eyes blazed. A smothered imprecation broke from his lips. He drew the pistol from his belt, and fired full at the fellow who had sought to seize the mare's rein.

He might almost have spared his fire, for Nell Gwynne would have dashed out his brains with her forefeet had he not fallen with a groan, a lifeless corpse. The other man, who had seemed about to rush forward, too, now started back in terror and dismay.

Sheltering himself behind a tree, he yelled out in a voice of trembling fury:

"You shall swing for this, Tom Tufton! you shall feel the halter about your neck right soon! The highway robber who is a murderer to boot will never escape the arm of the law! I will bring you to the gallows ere I have done with you!"

Tom knew the voice, and turned the mare's head towards the fellow, who, however, decamped so quickly amongst the trees that it was hopeless to try and follow on horseback. Moreover, Tom did not know that he was not also pursued from behind; and if so, he must gain the friendly shelter of the forest ere his enemies came up.

True, he had but slain this fellow in self-defence. He had been well-nigh the victim himself. But the crime thus forced upon him seemed to cut the last cable which bound him to the life of the past. They might not be able to prove upon him the robbery of the gold, but at least one witness had seen him shoot down Bully Bullen, and would doubtless swear that there had been no provocation beyond that of seeking to take into custody a man upon whose head a reward had been set.

He touched the mare with the spurs, and set her head straight for the forest. The late moon was beginning to silver the world about him; Tom saw the ground gliding ghostlike beneath him as the n.o.ble creature sprang forward.

"Away to the forest! away to the forest!" seemed the tune beaten out by the rhythm of her flying feet. No fear from pursuit now! Tom sang and shouted in the strange tumult of his feelings, as he galloped through the soft, scented night.

Lord Claud had been right. The forest was the place for him. He had tried the life of the rustic, the life of the town exquisite; and both had palled upon him. The clash of arms, the peril of the road, adventure, battle, pursuit, victory--these things held him in thrall. These things meant life to him.

Better that he should not see mother or sister again at present.

Better that Lord Claud should tell them some smooth tale, which would set their minds at rest for a while. Later, perhaps, when the hue and cry for him was over, he would seek the sh.o.r.e, would find his way to other lands, and by the power of his good right arm would win himself a name amidst the din of battle.

The future seemed to unfold itself before him in glowing colours.

Life held so many golden possibilities even yet. What might not a man accomplish who had a purse of gold in his belt, a n.o.ble horse beneath him, a trusty sword at his side?

Visions rose before his eyes of the things he would accomplish, the fame he would acquire, the return home he would finally make with laurels round his brow! Even here in the forest he would be no common freebooter. He would show himself merciful to the poor and oppressed; he would only take toll of the sleek and the fat, whose wealth was doubtless as ill-gotten as that of those whose lives he had watched of late.

"Men shall pay toll to Tom Tufton!" he cried, waving his sword above his head in a fierce gesture of triumph; "but the poor and the needy shall bless his name, and the oppressed shall find a haven of refuge with him!"

By which it may be seen that Master Tom's self confidence was in no way diminished by the vicissitudes through which he had pa.s.sed, and that he was looking forward once again to playing a leading part in some new drama of life.

The border of the great forest loomed up before him. It looked dark and solemn beneath the shade of the trees. Tom drew rein, and looked keenly to right and left, for he knew that The Three Ravens inn could not be far away.

"Who goes there?" asked a voice which Tom's quick ear recognized instantly; and he cried out in tones of eager welcome:

"It is I, Tom Tufton--and you are Captain Jack!"

There was a movement of the brushwood, and a horseman stepped out, the horse having given an eager whinny at the sound of Tom's voice.

"It is Wildfire!" cried Tom, bending over to pat the sleek neck of his old favourite. "Well, good fellow, have you had a luckier career than your old master? And yet I scarce can say I wish it undone. I have tasted life; I have had my glorious days.

"Captain Jack, I am come to you for shelter. There is a price on my head. I am outlawed in effect if not in reality."

"I have heard it. I expected you," answered Captain Jack in the friendly fashion in which he had spoken before to Tom. "I have had news from Lord Claud. It is not the first time he has sent his pupils to me."

"Have I been his pupil?" asked Tom with a half laugh; "in sooth, methinks I have been rather his dupe!"

"A little of both," was the answer. "But we must all pay the penalty of friendship with great men. Yet I think the price is worth the paying. And now, Tom, if that grand horse of yours is as little weary as she looks, let us forth together to some place where none may follow us. And let me tell you that it is not to every one Lord Claud would present his favourite mare, trained like a human creature for her trade."

"You know her?" asked Tom eagerly.

"Nell Gwynne and I have been acquainted this many a day. There be some of her fierce tricks that have been learned from my hand. I have been teaching the same to Wildfire and Wildgoose. We shall not be taken or overcome through lack of good beasts to bear us, Tom."

"You have Wildgoose, too?"

"Yes, I sent after him shortly. He was too grand a beast to be wasted upon a varlet of a serving man. If you have more of the same stock at home, Tom, we might make shift to get at them anon; but for the present we are well enough mounted."

They rode side by side through the forest tracks, Nell Gwynne and Wildfire making acquaintance with apparent mutual satisfaction as they stepped pace for pace together, their riders talking in quiet fashion over their heads.

Tom told the whole story of his adventures since arriving in London in October; and hard indeed was it to believe that months and not years had rolled over his head during that time.

"Not bad, not bad! Well done for a young c.o.c.kerel! Ah, we shall make a man of you, Tom! It is in your blood, I can see well!"

Such were the comments of Captain Jack as he heard the tale; and Tom spoke with an unconscious pride in his own daring, which plainly betokened an undaunted spirit and a thirst after more adventure and distinction.

Angry and hot against those who had "driven him forth," as he called it, reckless of consequences, with boundless self confidence, he was just the tool fit for the hand of Captain Jack, who patted him upon the back in a friendly fashion, and said:

"Yes, yes, Tom, you shall learn how to take toll. We will have another story of Tom Tufton's Toll ere we part company. There are good men enough amid the bands that infest these forest glades--men suffering unjustly, men falsely accused, men who have broken from those noisome prisons, which breed disease and death, and who would sooner put a bullet through their head than return to the filth and degradation of such a life. Ah, it is the hardness of the laws which drives men to be freebooters on the road! The rich may fatten and batten, rob, cheat, bleed their fellows to death; but let one of us lesser men dare to lay hands upon their fat purses, full of other men's gold, and we are branded as felons, and pay the ransom with our lives! That is not justice. That is not to be borne patiently. I tell you, Tom, that I have seen enough of the injustice of the law to turn my heart to molten metal and my blood to gall. We want fellows of your mould to wage the war and win the victory. The day may come when you will win for yourself a great name, and shine forth upon the world admired, courted, feared--even like Lord Claud!"

A thrill of gratified vanity ran through Tom's frame. He threw to the winds the last scruple of conscience. He flung back his head and set his teeth.

"Ride on--I follow!" he cried, in a strange, hoa.r.s.e voice; "I follow unto the world's end!"

So side by side the two men vanished into the deep gloom of the forest; and Captain Jack led his companion to one of those secret haunts of his own, where no pursuing foot had ever yet penetrated.

Tom drew a long breath as of relief, feeling that here at least he was safe.

And yet, when he sought to compose himself to rest after all the excitements of the past four-and-twenty hours, he found himself unable to sleep. The face of his mother, loving, wistful, reproachful, seemed ever rising before him. Was it not due to her that he should see her once again, even though he might be afterwards obliged to fly back to the forest? Was there not a chance--just a chance--that his enemies might not follow him to his own home?--might not even know where that home lay? At least, might he not see whether he was followed before he abandoned the idea of seeing once more the mother and sister who loved him so well?

With the first light of dawn he woke up Captain Jack, and put the case to him; and the elder man sat cogitating deeply, as Tom moved about making ready the morning meal.

"Tom, lad," he said, "you are safer here; but I understand your feelings. A man's first duty is to his mother if he have no wife.

And your mother is a good woman. Squire Tufton would never have married her else.

"Listen to me, my lad. I like you. I would fain have you for a comrade and friend; and I fear that you will not long be left in peace at home. But you shall do this thing. You shall go to your mother--"