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.
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