nd thither on the great river, or walking or
riding into the country--all this now seemed to him tame and
tiresome.

He turned and tossed upon his bed, wondering what had come to him,
and what life held in store for him. He thirsted for adventure, for
the excitements and perils which he had experienced of late. His
blood tingled at the memories he conjured up of those things he had
passed through--the strife of arms, the fierce joy of battle, the
breathless gallops from pursuing foes, and the hairbreadth perils
they had come through.

That was life! That was what he longed after! He cared little for
the gay resorts of town, save as an interlude. The life of the
streets soon palled upon him. But there was no attraction in the
thought of home and the peaceful existence there. He must see more
of the world, he must enjoy more of life, before he could ever
dream of going back to Gablehurst to live.

But what could he do? He fell asleep pondering upon this problem,
and when he awoke it was the first thought in his head.

But, as is so often the case when one has gone to sleep pondering
upon a problem, the solution had come to him during the hours of
unconsciousness, and he awoke with a new inspiration.

"Why not offer for the secret service?"

Tom pondered this question all the while that he was dressing.
There were difficulties in the way, of course. The Duke of
Marlborough--the only man to whom he could apply with any hope of
success--was out of the country; Tom knew not where he would be
found just now, though that could easily be ascertained. He himself
was ignorant of foreign tongues, although he had picked up a little
understanding of French, and could speak a few simple phrases. But
he had plenty of confidence in his strength and courage. He felt
that his energies demanded now a wider field of exercise; and if he
could but get his chance, he had full assurance that he would make
a brilliant name for himself in some way or another.

This idea brought back all his high spirits. He saw that it would
be necessary once more to consult Lord Claud, who would probably be
able to give him excellent advice. But after that, Tom told
himself, he would have no more dealings with that mysterious
personage, but would throw himself into the service of the great
Duke with such zealous goodwill as should lead him to fame and
fortune at last.

He had a feeling, also, that he should be happier out of London and
out of the cou