Tom seemed to catch the spirit of his comrade. Those were days when crime was lightly thought of, though so heavily punished. A strain of recklessness in Tom's blood made the notion of even robbery on the king's highway fascinating rather than terrible--at least when he could say to himself that he was but "taking his own."
It was plain enough now that this was the secret of Lord Claud's life--hinted at more or less plainly by many before, but never altogether understood by Tom. Yet Lord Claud was received, feted, made much of in the society of the gay city, even by those who more than suspected where his influx of wealth came from. He had even received instructions, and been intrusted with an important commission, by one so high in office as the great Duke of Marlborough. Surely there could be no great stigma resting upon one who was thus employed in the service of his country. It seemed to Tom (as it has seemed to others before and since) that if only success crowned these efforts, there was no disgrace attached to them.
But it was a significant if--and he knew it!
"And suppose we are taken?" he said tentatively.
"We should be hanged," answered Lord Claud coolly. "But we shall not be taken. Make your mind quite clear on that point. Do just as I tell you, and have no fears. The rest will follow of itself."
Tom had come to have that sort of implicit trust in his companion which some men have the power to inspire. It makes them dangerous to foes, because they appear to bear charmed lives; and their companions trust implicitly in their luck, and know no fear. Tom felt that if Lord Claud told him to ride through fire or water, he would do it without hesitation, knowing that the thing was possible, and believing he would accomplish it.
"Come," said Lord Claud, "take your saddle and bridle and walk softly. It is time we were off now."
They stole through the silent house, and round to the stable, where the horses were lying on beds of clean straw. They got up at the sound of their master's voice, but were so quiet in all their movements that it seemed as though they knew what was in the air. In five minutes they were free from the buildings, and the travellers mounted. The road lay before them in dappled lights and shadows from the brilliant moon overhead. It was as easy to see the way as though the sun had been up.
Once clear of the inn, and Lord Claud sprang forward at a steady, swinging hand gallop, a pace to which the horses settled down as though well habituated to it.
Then he began to speak to Tom of the project on which they were bent.