“Why, methinks you are taller than ever! and have gotten the air of a man of travel!  This will be news for my little Rosy tomorrow.  Why, it was but last Sunday, as we sat and talked of you, that the tears came into her eyes, and she said she feared we should never see you more!  How she will laugh and skip tomorrow when she sees you in your accustomed place!”

“It was kind of Mistress Rosamund to spare a thought for me,” said Tom, feeling that it was good to be welcomed home again so warmly.

Other home welcome had he not yet received, for they had not returned by Holland and the port of Harwich.  The good monks had taken them the shorter way through France, and had seen them safe upon a vessel bound for Southampton, where they had safely disembarked a few days ago.  They had spent their last money in getting themselves clothing other than a monkish habit, and had then ridden merrily to London in quick time.  Tom had left his good mare in Lord Claud’s stable, and had marched off forthwith to Master Cale’s shop; whilst his companion had declared his intention of making speedy application for the payment due to them for their recent enterprise, which had now been successfully carried through.

“I would I could have seen the Duke himself,” said Lord Claud; “but he is gone back to the Hague, men say, and may be anywhere now.  But I shall lay my case before some of the ministers of the realm, and claim our reward.  The Duke of Savoy knows the value of the news I brought him, and the labourer is worthy of his hire.  You shall have your share, Tom, when I get the gold; for you took your share of peril boldly, and were a stanch comrade in all moments of danger.  You suffered more than I, and that shall not be forgotten.”

So Tom felt light and happy of heart.  He was back again in the old country, hearing his native tongue once more around him, the satisfaction of success in his heart, the experiences of a man of travel giving him added dignity in his own eyes.  If his purse was light, he would soon replenish it; and in the welcome accorded to him by the honest perruquier he felt the earnest of other welcomes in store for him.

As they sat at table together the traveller told his adventures to his host, Cale listening with eager attention, and rubbing his hands softly together as he heard how Montacute had been outwitted, and how he had been well-nigh throttled by Tom, as well as rebuked by the pious monks.

“I have seen the fellow,” he said thoughtfully—­“he came here once for a peruke—­and a more evil countenance I have seldom seen.  They say he is half an Italian, though he passes here for an Englishman; and that he is in the pay of the King of France is a thing commonly reported.  He has an evil face, and I hope we shall see it no more in this land.  You must have a care, Tom, if ever he crosses your path again.  He will not forget that grip on his throat in a hurry!”

“Nor I those lashes upon my back!” answered Tom between his shut teeth.  “He will find me ready for him whenever he wants!  I am sometimes fain to regret that I did not squeeze the life out of him as he lay in my grasp, even as—­well, others I know have regretted that they did not run him through the heart in a duelling bout.”