Tom sat in his corner and looked on in amaze.  He had felt himself a very pretty dandy whilst being arrayed in his new clothes in Cale’s shop, but he felt like a raven amongst peacocks in this company; and it would have taken nothing short of the testimony of his own eyes to convince him that these were men and not women engaged in all this pranking and personal adornment.

Many curious glances had been thrown in his direction at the first; and a few of the guests sauntered up from time to time, and entered into conversation with him.  Tom observed, with some satisfaction, that there was respect, if not admiration, in their manner, and he wondered what had caused this; for yesterday he had received mockery and taunts as his portion from men of much less distinction than Lord Claud’s friends.

He had not heard the words Lord Claud had spoken to his guests on their arrival—­or, rather, he had not understood them, since they were spoken in the French tongue.

“A friend of mine—­a fine young fellow—­a son of the forest—­best let alone, gentlemen, by those who value a sound skin,” Lord Claud had said, with a careless laugh.

His friends drew their own conclusions, and looked at Tom with respect.  Lord Claud knew exactly what they were thinking, and laughed in his sleeve.

The valet was now perfuming the gloves, and giving just the jaunty cock to his master’s hat which best suited its shape.

“Now, gentlemen, I will bid you farewell for the present,” said Lord Claud.  “I and my friend have business of our own.  We may meet again at the play ere long.  Off with you each to his own favourite tavern.  For my part, I have other fish to fry today.”

With that he swept them a fine bow, and the room cleared as if by magic.  It was one of this man’s arts that he could rid himself of the buzzing crowd by one look or gesture when he had the mind.  Valet and perruquier followed the retreating guests, and Lord Claud drew a breath of relief.

“There, honest Tom; we are well rid of the chattering magpies—­screaming peacocks were the better word, or painted popinjays.  Now to business; for I must keep a steady head and quiet hours today.  Are you anything of a swordsman, my friend?”

“I was accounted a good enough fighter in my own village,” answered Tom; “but everything here is so different.  My methods may be useless against the skill of men trained in a different school.”

“We will put that to the test, and that quickly,” said Lord Claud; and forthwith he led his companion out of the house and through several unfamiliar streets, till he reached a building rather larger than its surrounding neighbours, into which he walked with the air of one well used to the place.

First they passed through a large hall, the floor of which was thickly sprinkled with sawdust; but, without pausing, Lord Claud mounted a staircase in the corner, and led Tom into a large upper room, the walls of which were adorned by rapiers with buttons at the end, where a man was sitting polishing the foils and humming a tune to himself.  He rose instantly upon seeing Lord Claud, and made a deep bow.