The coffee house to which Lord Claud now conducted him was a much finer and more select place than the Folly, and Tom was much interested in the fine company there, all of whom welcomed Lord Claud heartily, and seemed to desire to draw him into talk.

Although dressed in the height of the fashion, and not without their fopperies and extravagances, the company here interested itself less with private scandal than with public affairs, and there was much talk of the war abroad, and of the return of the Duke of Marlborough, which it was now thought would take place before long.

“But he has first to go to Berlin, to cajole the King of Prussia to send help to Italy, to the Duke of Savoy,” cried one of the company, who seemed best informed on military matters.  “It will take a good one to wring eight thousand soldiers out of His Majesty of Prussia, but if any man can do it, it will be Johnny Churchill!  I remember him even when we were boys together.  He had a tongue that would flatter the nose off your face, if you did but listen to him!  A voice of silver, and a hand of iron—­those are the gifts which have made the fortunes of my Lord of Marlborough.”

“Ay, an iron hand for keeping money when once the fingers have closed upon it!” laughed one.

“And a wife who rules the Queen, and is bent upon making her husband the greatest man in the kingdom—­though she will always keep the upper hand of her lord, you will see.  Marlborough, whom no combination of military prowess can daunt, trembles and turns pale before the frown of his wife!”

“Yet it is not fear but love which makes him tremble,” said another.  “Although their children are grown to adolescence, he loves her yet as dotingly as ever youthful swain loves the Phyllis of his boyhood’s amours!”

“That is nothing to sneer at,” remarked Lord Claud, speaking for the first time.  “Rather should we thank Heaven, in these days of profligacy and vice, that we have a Queen upon the throne who loves her husband faithfully and well, and a general, victorious in arms, who would gladly lay down his victor’s laurels for the joy of living in peaceful obscurity at the side of his wife!”

Nobody laughed at Lord Claud’s speech, though it would have provoked mirth if another had given utterance to the sentiment.  The talk went on, however, in the same vein, and Tom listened in silence, trying to digest as much as he could of the news of the day.

Lord Claud did not remain long; and when they were in the street together, Tom asked him of the great Duke, and what had been said of him.  Was he really treacherous and false, loving money above all else, and careless of the good of the realm, so long as he built up his own fortunes securely?

“The Duke’s career is not without its black spots,” answered Lord Claud.  “It is known by all that he deserted the late King James the Second; but there were reasons solid and sound for that.  The darkest passage in his life is his intrigues against His Majesty King William, for which he was disgraced for some time.  But for all that his genius is marvellous, and I am very sure he is loyal to the core to good Queen Anne; albeit a man who will not openly ally himself with either Whig or Tory faction must expect to make enemies in many quarters.”