The others addressed him, asking his name and his history.
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.