Tom Tuftons Travels | Page 9

the little crowd gathered to see him ride away.
"You will write and tell us of your safe arrival in London; and be very careful how you cross Epping Forest," said the mother.
And young Tom answered gaily,--"Oh, never fear for me. Wildfire and I can ride through and ride down anything! I will send a letter from London, but after that you must not look for anything but silence. When men cross the seas, and live amid battles and marches, letters can scarce be written, still less safely carried."
He stooped from his saddle, and once more kissed both mother and sister. Then the servants and tenants crowded round, full of good wishes for a prosperous journey and a happy return; and Tom answered them with gay words of promise. He would come back again, covered with fame and glory. They would hear of his doings before they saw him again, and when he came back he would "take toll again of all his old playmates;" and so saying, he looked laughingly round upon the blushing girls, who had paid Tom Tufton's toll many a time, between jest and earnest, by the lych gate.
They all admired and liked the handsome lad, even though his ways were more wild and reckless than the elders could approve. But all declared that it would do him all the good in the world to go out and see life in other places. It would cool his hot blood, and teach him wisdom; and, after all, lads always would be lads till manhood's cares and lessons had tamed them.
So Tom rode away in high spirits, Robin following on Wildgoose, with the saddlebags strapped in front of him. They did not take much with them, as Tom meant to equip himself in town, and was wearing his finest home-made suit upon the journey. He had his precious guineas carefully secured about his person. They were heavy, it is true, but he liked to feel the weight of them, and to know that they were safe.
For many miles he was constantly receiving hails from friends and comrades; sometimes a band of young men would ride with him for a few miles, and then, wishing him good luck, return home again. At some houses which he passed, bright eyes would look out from the windows, and kerchiefs would be waved in greeting and farewell.
Tom may perhaps be forgiven for regarding himself somewhat in the light of a young prince riding forth to see the world. Everything in his past life had combined to give him a good opinion of himself, and make him fancy himself irresistible alike with men and women. For he was undoubtedly the strongest and handsomest youth in his own small world.
He sang and whistled as he rode along in the crisp morning air. October had dashed the trees with vivid tints of red and gold. A crisp touch of frost was in the air, and though the noonday sun was bright and hot, there were indications of approaching winter plain to be seen.
They baited their horses for an hour at a little inn where Tom was slightly known; but when he spoke of pressing on, and asked where the next halting place was, mine host advised his remaining where he was till morning, as he was now close to the forest boundaries, and not only were the paths somewhat intricate, but there were always footpads, if not worse, lurking in the recesses of the wood, ready to pounce upon unwary travellers, especially after sundown.
"And the light goes quickly beneath the trees. For my part, I would rather travel by the waxing light of early morn than by the fading glow of an autumn evening."
Tom had meant to arrive at this inn full two hours before he did; for he had allowed his friends to hinder him on his way, and had stopped all too often to exchange a word with some maiden watching from a window or by a gate. He had intended reaching a little village known to Robin, situated in the forest itself, before night fell; and even as it was, he was by no means prepared to abandon the hope of getting there.
Robin was not afraid of darkness or of footpads. He had a very good knowledge of the forest, and was eager to press on. It was still quite light, and Tom was in all the fervour of his first impetuosity. So, as soon as the horses were baited and themselves refreshed, they mounted once more, and pushed gaily along, feeling themselves quite equal to repel any wretched footpads who might try to assault them.
As for the regular highway robbers, well armed and well mounted, they favoured better-frequented routes than this. Open heaths were their favourite hunting grounds, though they liked well