Later, perhaps, when the
hue and cry for him was over, he would seek the shore, would find
his way to other lands, and by the power of his good right arm
would win himself a name amidst the din of battle.
The future seemed to unfold itself before him in glowing colours.
Life held so many golden possibilities even yet. What might not a
man accomplish who had a purse of gold in his belt, a noble horse
beneath him, a trusty sword at his side?
Visions rose before his eyes of the things he would accomplish, the
fame he would acquire, the return home he would finally make with
laurels round his brow! Even here in the forest he would be no
common freebooter. He would show himself merciful to the poor and
oppressed; he would only take toll of the sleek and the fat, whose
wealth was doubtless as ill-gotten as that of those whose lives he
had watched of late.
"Men shall pay toll to Tom Tufton!" he cried, waving his sword
above his head in a fierce gesture of triumph; "but the poor and
the needy shall bless his name, and the oppressed shall find a
haven of refuge with him!"
By which it may be seen that Master Tom's self confidence was in no
way diminished by the vicissitudes through which he had passed, and
that he was looking forward once again to playing a leading part in
some new drama of life.
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