Tom Tufton's Travels, Evelyn Everett-Green [read people like a book TXT] 📗

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, hoarse 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--"

"Ah, that is a good word!" cried Tom, now all eagerness. "I shall at least see her once again!"

"Yes, you shall see her again; you shall make glad her heart. But, Tom, tell her nothing of all this that has befallen you, nor of the peril in which you stand. Let her never know, come what will, that you may be driven to take to the forest, for fear of the unjust rigour of the law and the machinations of unscrupulous foes."

"I would gladly be spared paining her by such a tale," said Tom quickly; "but how--"

He paused, and Captain Jack took up the word.

"I know what you would say. How if you have suddenly to fly again? How if aught should come to her ears? Now listen, Tom, and I will tell you what I will do. I loved your father. I vowed in my heart that if ever the day should come that I could serve him, I would do so; and therefore I will do what I can for his son. Hear me, Tom. I have means of knowing many things. I can set my scouts to work. Therefore, go you home to your mother. I will meantime set my men to the task. I will communicate with Lord Claud. If peril threaten, you shall have warning. Tell your mother that the Duke of Marlborough may have need of you again for the secret service, and that at any moment you may be forced to quit the house suddenly and secretly. Having made her understand that, enjoy your stay at home with a free heart. I will undertake that you have four hours' start of any pursuing foe. If you receive message or token from me--or from Lord Claud--you will know what to do. Take your horse, set spurs in her flanks, and draw not rein till you find yourself here once more. Note the road as you fare forth, and return by it again. You will find safety here--and a friend. This do, and you shall meantime be safe."

Captain Jack had some of Lord Claud's power of commanding confidence; and, indeed, in this case Tom felt a greater sense of security in the promise of this highway robber than in that of his mysterious friend and leader in London.

"I will go," he said. "I believe you. I take you at your word. I will return home to my mother and sister, and rejoice their hearts. And there will I abide till I receive your message; after which I will fly back to the forest. Captain Jack, I have that within me which tells me that I shall come back--that my adventures are not ended yet. But let me once more go home to those I love, and I ask nothing more."

"You shall go, Tom Tufton, you shall go. A mother's happiness and her blessing are not things to be lightly thrown away. Go, and I will keep watch. Till you hear from me, you are safe."

So Tom rode away in the gray light of dawn, and quickly finding himself in familiar haunts, put spurs to his good steed, and before noon found himself close beside the village which had been his home all his life till this past adventurous year of travel.

As he went clattering up the long avenue to the house, it seemed to him as though the birds of the air must have been at work; for there was his mother standing upon the steps to receive him, whilst Rachel was running towards him with flying feet.

"O Tom, Tom, Tom! we knew it could be no one but you! O dearest Tom, so you have come home at last!"

He swung himself from the saddle, and put his arm about his sister.

"Yes, I have come home," he said a little huskily, "come home to see you all once more. The old place never changes--nor you and my mother!"

"Why should we?" asked Rachel softly.

And he kissed her again, with a strange feeling of the unreality of everything human.

The servants were flocking out by this time. His mother's arms were outstretched in welcome. There was something like a sob in Tom's throat as he felt them clasped about his neck.

"My dear, dear boy--my only son! Thank God that you have come safely through all threatened perils, and have come home to us again!"

Tom held her close in his arms. He would not speak a word to dash from her those fond hopes which she so plainly cherished. He would not speak of the peril overshadowing him, which might at any moment become imminent.

"It is good to be home, mother!" he said, and kissed her many times.

The servants raised a cheer for the young Squire. Tom turned and smiled at them, and spoke a few words of thanks. How familiar it all was! How had he ever despised the love of the people round him, and of those two faithful women who loved him so truly and so well?

"Dear mother," he said tenderly, "you are so much better to me than ever I deserve; I will try to live to be a comfort to you some day. I have given you little but sorrow and pain as yet."

"Nay, Tom, you have served your country, and that should satisfy a mother's pride. Come in, my son, and tell us your adventures. You have seen foreign lands and fine folks since last we met. Come and tell us all about it, as you rest and refresh yourself from your journey."

So Tom gave one last look round at the eager faces grouped about the door, and turned into the great hall with a smile and a sigh. It was very like a dream, this eager welcome, and these familiar sights and sounds. The sense of insecurity which hung over him made everything seem unreal, and yet in one way dearer to him than ever before.

"Yes, this is home!" he said to himself, as be turned to follow his mother; "my travels are ended. I have come home. Whatever may betide in the future, I am safe at home now!"

If any reader desire to know the sequel to Tom Tufton's story, and how he took toll on the king's highway, that story shall be told another day. For the present his travels had terminated, and he was beneath his own roof tree--a sadder and a wiser man than he had sallied forth.

THE END.

End of Project Gutenberg's Tom Tufton's Travels, by Evelyn Everett-Green