“Excellent! excellent!” cried Lord Claud, when the poet at last flung himself into his chair, exhausted by his own flow of eloquence.  “That will take them!  That will hit them!  My good friend, your fortune is made.

“Capital, was it not, Tom?  Why, it has raised a sparkle in your calm bucolic eyes!

“‘Tis a fine poem i’ sooth, Master Addison; as fine a piece of work as any man of this day ever produced.  You might have seen it all yourself.  You have had information, one can see, from high quarters.  Now tell me, I pray, something in detail of this great battle;” and forthwith poet and gallant fell to discussing the campaign in such a fashion as filled Tom with wonder at his companion, such as he was always feeling.

Lord Claud seemed to have such a masterly knowledge of military detail, that it was hard to believe he had not at some time been a soldier himself; and his knowledge of public affairs, and of the intricacies of foreign and home politics, struck the country-bred youth as something little short of marvellous.

For hard upon two hours did the two men sit talking, with papers and diagrams before them; and when at last Lord Claud rose, Addison gripped him hard by the hand, and declared he was the best company he had seen for many a long day.

“We are too late for the play, Tom, my lad,” said Lord Claud, as they reached the street.  “But, for my part, I have been better entertained; and if I have wearied you, I crave pardon.”

“I am no whit wearied,” answered Tom promptly; “but I marvel much at your knowledge of men and things.”

Lord Claud laughed slightly and lightly.

“Keep open eyes and ears as you go along in life, Tom, and you will learn many things in your turn.  And now, methinks, we will take horse to Earns, and lie there tonight.  It will be better for us than the long ride in the cold of the early morning.”

CHAPTER VI.  BARNS ELMS.

“You can ride, Tom?” Lord Claud had said, as they sauntered homewards from the poet’s lodgings.

Tom replied that whatever else he was lacking in, he might certainly lay claim to horsemanship; and the pair walked on together, Lord Claud sunk in thoughtful silence, his companion always ready to give his attention to the sights of the streets, which had lost none of the attraction of novelty as yet.

“Ho! ho! ho!” laughed a voice behind them; “Master Tom the greengoose has found fine company!”

“A fine comrade, truly, will he find he has got!  What becomes of all the strapping young fellows whom my Lord Claud takes pains to notice and befriend?”

“They are like the butterflies—­flutter for a season and are no more seen after!”

“Or like the buzzing fly who is lured within the spider’s web!  ’Tis easy fluttering in, but there is no getting out!”

“Ay, ay, the gallows noose must feel mightily like the strand of the spider’s web to the silly fly.  And as the spider pounces upon his victim ere it be dead, and sucks away its life blood, so does the hangman cut down his victim alive and cut out his living heart!  Oh, ’tis a fine sight! a fine sight!  Young Tom must e’en go and see the next execution at Tyburn!”