it would be hard to imagine. It appeared
to Tom as though even his figure had shrunk and become smaller. If
he had not seen the metamorphosis with his own eyes, he would not
have believed that it was his comrade who now stood before him.

But the voice was the same, as Lord Claud quickly assisted him to
change his garments, to assume wig and mask, and soot his forehead
over.

Tom had not been unprepared for this denouement, and yet when he
saw himself in the habiliments of a highway robber, his heart
throbbed with a painful sense of wonderment at how it had all come
about. Yet the fascination exercised over him by his companion, and
his own love of adventure and excitement, were so strong, that he
did not know whether he dreaded or desired the coming struggle.

"What are we going to do?" he asked in a low voice.

"To take our due that they will not give us," was the stern reply.
"They had their choice, and must abide by their blindness and
obstinacy. I am not going to be treated with contempt; no one who
has ever tried to do so has done it with impunity. Every man has a
right to his own--is it not so, honest Tom?"

"Yes, truly," answered Tom, with a note of indignation in his
voice. "Those who withhold our due must suffer for it."

"They shall suffer in pocket; and if what we shall obtain this
night be more than our due, the fault is theirs, not ours. Tom, you
are to taste a new experience this night--one which is full of joy
to those who have drunk often of the cup. There be times when I say
that I am happiest dressed as tonight, a good horse beneath me, a
bright moon above, and a booty worth having well in view. It is so
full of rare surprises and delight; and, if a man but have his wits
about him, it is so monstrous easy, too!"

Tom seemed to catch the spirit of his comrade. Those were days when
crime was lightly thought of, though so heavily punished. A strain
of recklessness in Tom's blood made the notion of even robbery on
the king's highway fascinating rather than terrible--at least when
he could say to himself that he was but "taking his own."

It was plain enough now that this was the secret of Lord Claud's
life--hinted at more or less plainly by many before, but never
altogether understood by Tom. Yet Lord Claud was received, feted,
made much of in the society of the gay city, even by those who more
than suspected where his influx of wealth came from. He had even
received instructions, and been intr