ing for half an hour before the door
opened to admit Lord Claud, who came in with a dark look upon his
face, and threw down his hat and gloves upon the table with a
smothered oath.

Then he saw Tom, and the cloud lightened, although it did not
disappear. He shook the young man warmly by the hand.

"Tom, you are come in a good hour, and an evil one! I was just
wishing I had you to stand by me. What think you is the reply of
those to whom I have proffered my claim on our behalf? They will
have nothing of it. They will scarce give me a hearing. I may go to
the Duke of Marlborough with my tale, they tell me in some scorn,
as though incredulous of my words, but they will have nought to do
with it. And will not even make an advance, whilst they know that
to reach the Duke one must run many a peril and risk much money. It
is a shameful trick! I know they would not have dared treat all men
so, but they think they may put their despite upon me!"

He ground his teeth, and then broke out into strange wild talk
which Tom did not understand, though it inspired him with a sense
of great anger against those in high places.

Moreover, he was not a little disturbed on his own account by the
failure of Lord Claud. How should he pay his debts? How should he
live himself? Had he not risked his life for the sake of his
country? Had he not suffered scourging and sickness on her behalf?
It took very little of Lord Claud's fire to kindle an answering
flame in his own heart. His anger was always readily stirred, and
his appreciation of his own merit caused him to feel the more hot
and aggrieved.

"Tom," said Lord Claud suddenly, "there is one other way. If you
have a clear head, a strong arm, and a stout heart, there is yet a
hope that we may gain our ends."

Tom looked up eagerly. He saw something in Lord Claud's face which
seemed to him strange, and which inspired him with a sense of keen,
quick curiosity and excitement. He felt as though he were on the
verge of some new discovery. His breath came thick and fast, but it
was with eagerness, not fear. He had been so worked upon and played
upon by a master hand, that the thought of fear found no place
within his breast. What was this other way of which his master
spoke?

"The gold is ours, Tom. We have won it with the best that is in
us--with our heart's blood, as men say. It is ours. We have the
right to it. If they withhold it in injustice, have we not the
right to lay hands on it o