ther very bright nor savoury according to
modern ideas, but for the times they were thought a marvel of
perfection. Tom's eyes soon got used to the dimness, and he was
quickly in a high state of rapture at the evidences of breeding and
pace in the horses stabled there.

That they knew their master well was plain, for all heads were
turned at the sound of his voice, and each animal gave a low whinny
of pleasure at the approach of Lord Claud. He took carrots from a
basket and dispensed them with impartiality to his stud; and,
meantime, he and his head groom talked together in low tones, and
presently Tom was called to the conclave.

"Nell Gwynne will carry you best, Tom. But she may give you a
little trouble. It is not every rider she will brook upon her back;
yet if you can master her, she will bear you to the world's end
faithfully."

Tom approached the mare indicated, who looked at him, laying back
her ears and showing the whites of her eyes, sidling a little over
in her stall with the evident intention of trying to get a kick at
the stranger. But Tom coolly walked up to her head, and began
caressing her with a perfect fearlessness which presently disarmed
her suspicion. She was accustomed to see men flinch and quail
before her, and despised the race accordingly. But the few who bad
no fear of her she recognized as her masters, and she gave them the
love of her heart and the best of her powers.

"That will do, Tom," said Lord Claud's voice from behind; "you have
won my lady's capricious fancy.

"Bring up the mare and Lucifer in an hour's time, saddled and
bridled, and fed for the evening," he added, speaking to the
servant; "you will probably have them back some time tomorrow, but
of that I cannot speak with certainty."

He took Tom's arm as he left the yard, saying in his nonchalant
fashion:

"Sometimes after one of these affairs of honour it is well to take
oneself off for a while. Her Majesty is as much against the
settlement of private quarrels by the appeal to the sword as ever
King William was. However, fashion is too strong even for good
Queen Anne. But it is better not to do more than wing your man. If
you kill him, you run a risk of getting into trouble. But I have no
intention of doing so, unless he provokes me beyond endurance."

"Is he a man of note?" asked Tom, with pardonable curiosity.

"In his way he is; you probably would not know the name; but he has
friends in high places: He and I have