The following morning Signor Polaloga returned with an invitation from the Earl to John to come and stay at Tattershall, as the castle was named. John, who had heard of the Earl of Lincoln as an eccentric nobleman and hard to please, might have respectfully declined this flattering invitation had not the equerry clinched the matter by mentioning the extensive stable of fine horses, the assortment of various arms and the tilt-yard that would be at the disposal of the guest. So John went to Tattershall, and to his surprise found the Earl a very pleasant gentleman who bade him make himself as much at home in the castle as though he owned it. John spent several weeks at Tattershall. Signor Polaloga entered zealously into the instruction of the young man, declaring that he had never before had so apt a pupil. But with the progress of his skill the desire to exercise it in actual conflict grew and, hearing rumors of renewed hostilities in Holland, John bade adieu to his patron, the Earl, and his friend the master of horse and returned to Willoughby with the intention of fitting himself out for a campaign on the continent.
[IV.]
DUPED AND ROBBED
John returns to the Netherlands—Determines to go east and fight the Turks—Meets a bogus French nobleman and his attendants—Goes to France with them—They steal all his belongings and with the assistance of the ship-master decamp—John sells his cloak and pursues the thieves—A friend in need—Finds the robbers but can get no redress—Alone in a strange land without cloak or purse—Secures some clothes and money and turns back to the coast—Still determined to get to the Turkish war by some means.
John entered upon his second campaign in the Netherlands under more promising circumstances than at first. He was furnished with good arms and accoutrements, an ample supply of fine clothing and a considerable sum of money. Moreover, he was no longer a greenhorn. It is true that he could not boast of much actual experience of warfare, but he had learned to handle his weapons with unusual dexterity and was prepared to give a good account of himself. He had, however, few opportunities for display of his skill before the winter put an end to hostilities for the time.
When the camps began to break up, John followed the stream of travel towards the coast without any definite plan for his future movements. He was beginning to tire of service in Holland, which had disappointed his expectations, and was anxious to find a fresh field for adventure. Rudolph the Second, Emperor of Germany, was waging war against the Turks in Hungary and Transylvania. Here was an avenue to new scenes and experiences, but the seat of war was on the other side of Europe and the journey thence a long and expensive one. For that reason he could find none among his late companions in arms who was going to the Turkish war. Still he continued his journey to Rotterdam, hoping that he might there fall in with some nobleman bound for the East, to whose train he might attach himself. He allowed his desire to become known as widely as possible, thinking that it might come to the ears of some leader willing to engage his services.
The port was full of soldiers, real and pretended, waiting to take ship in various directions. There were veterans seeking their homes for a spell of rest after hard fighting or returning to recover from severe wounds. There were others to whom the sole attraction presented by the scene of war was the prospect of loot. There were traders and camp followers innumerable, desperadoes and outlaws, gamblers who used loaded dice and sharpers of all sorts. John was fated to fall into the hands of some of those smooth but dishonest characters who, like vultures, hung in the rear of every army and preyed on the soldiers returning from a campaign rich with pay and plunder. Our hero was an easy victim, for, whilst his common sense rendered him sufficiently cautious where an open enemy was concerned, his frank and generous disposition prevented his suspecting the good faith of a pretended friend.
John had his heavy iron-bound chest taken to one of the best inns in the town and there he settled himself comfortably to interested contemplation of the bustle and movement about him. Although he makes no mention of being conscious of the trait, John Smith evidently had the habit of awaiting events when circumstances failed to supply him with a basis for a reasonable plan of action. When we can not see our way clearly ahead, generally the wisest thing we can do is to do nothing, as Handy Andy might have said. We seldom force a situation without making a mess of it. It did not often happen to John, in the course of his eventful life, that he had long to wait for something to turn up, and the present occasion was no exception to the rule.
He was seated in the common room of the inn one day when he was forced to overhear a conversation in French, with which language he had become tolerably familiar. The speakers were four men who had the appearance of being soldiers in good circumstances. One of them, in particular, was richly dressed and seemed to be of superior station to the others, who were receiving his directions for the voyage to France, which was to be the first stage in a journey to Hungary, where they proposed taking part in the campaign against the Turks. John heard this with delight, for it seemed to afford the very opportunity for which he had been longing.