Tom, indeed, was quite fascinated by the scene around him, and had no desire to tear himself away.  Presently one of the men from the group of bully beaux (as Tom had dubbed them, not by any means incorrectly) moved nearer to him, and took the chair vacated by Harry; and gradually the group reformed, with Tom as one of its members.  The others addressed him, asking his name and his history.  Tom was reserved as to this last, but spoke in a frank and easy way which seemed to win upon his comrades.  There were four of them, and whatever might be their real names, Tom found out that they were known amongst themselves, and by the world of the tavern, by the following cognomens:  “Slippery Seal,” “Bully Bullen,” “Thirsty Thring,” and “Dicing Dick.”

Tom was not sure that he liked or approved these new comrades, but at least their conversation interested and excited him.  They told of duels fought in the ring at Hyde Park, or at the back of Montague House; of the exploits of highwaymen, and the executions at Newgate, which were plainly favourite spectacles with them.  They told of the doings of themselves and other marauders in the streets of London, and roared with laughter over their exploits.  Tom, ashamed of his real disgust, strove to laugh too, for he dreaded above everything to be thought a man lacking in spirit; but perhaps his face betrayed more than he meant, for his comrades began to gibe him in a fashion which made his hot blood rise; and he might have got into trouble before Harry could come to the rescue, had it not been that a sudden hush fell upon the room, whilst the word went round, spoken in every intonation of curiosity, respect, and admiration: 

“’Tis Lord Claud himself!  Hither he comes!  Certes, but he is a fine figure of a man!  So he has not grown too fine for his old haunts, though men did say that he was the pet and the favourite of all the court ladies!”

At that name, heard once before from the lips of Captain Jack, Tom looked round in great curiosity and eagerness.  Immediately he was gratified by the sight of the entrance into the inner room of the person who was the cause of all this subdued commotion.

The newcomer was a very handsome man, of slender and graceful proportions, tall and elegant, and dressed in the extreme of fashion, yet with a taste that robbed foppery itself of any appearance of absurdity in his case.  He looked quite young at the first glance; but a keen and practised eye could detect lines in that gay and handsome face which only time could trace.  Probably he was past thirty by some years, yet many men of five and twenty looked older.  The only thing in which he differed materially from his brother dandies was that he wore his own hair in lieu of the wig; but so abundant and beautiful was it, lying upon his shoulders in large curls of tawny golden hue, and clustering with a grace about his temples that no wig ever yet attained, that not the most ardent upholder of the peruke could wish him to change the fashion of his coiffure, which, in fact, gave to his outer man a touch of distinction which was well borne out by the elegance of his deportment and costume.