It would not take much guessing to arrive at the course taken by Frank
Gowan. He cudgelled his brains well, being in a kind of mental balance,
which one day went down in favour of making a clean breast of all he
knew to his mother; the next day up went that side, for he felt quite
indignant with himself.
Here, he argued, was he, Frank Gowan, freshly appointed one of the
Prince's pages, a most honourable position for a youth of his years, and
with splendid prospects before him, cut off from his old school
friendships, and enjoying a new one with a handsome, well-born lad,
whom, in spite of many little failings at which he laughed, he
thoroughly admired for his dash, courage, and knowledge of the world
embraced by the court. This lad had completely taken him under his
wing, made him proud by the preference he showed for his companionship,
and ready to display his warm admiration for his new friend by making
him the confidant of his secret desires; and what was he, the trusted
friend, about to do? Play traitor, and betray his confidence. But,
then, was not Andrew Forbes seeking to play traitor to the King?
"That's only talk and vanity," said the boy to himself. "He has done
nothing traitorous; but if I go and talk to any one, I shall have done
something--something cruelly treacherous, which must end in the poor
fellow being sent away from the court in disgrace, perhaps to a severe
punishment."
He turned cold at the thought.
"They hang or behead people for high treason," he thought; "and suppose
Drew were to be punished like that, how should I feel afterward? I
should never forgive myself. Besides, how could I go and worry my
mother about such a business as this? It is not women's work, and it
would only make her unhappy."
But he felt that he might go to his father, and confide the matter to
him, asking him on his honour not to do anything likely to injure Drew.
But he could not go and confide in his father, who was generally with
his regiment, and they only met on rare occasions. By chance he caught
sight of him on duty at the Palace with the guard, but he could not
speak to him then. At other times he was at his barrack quarters, and
rarely at his town house across the Park in Queen Anne Street. This
place was generally only occupied by the servants, Lady Gowan having
apartments in the Palace.
Hence Frank felt that it would be very difficult to see his father and
confide in him, and he grew more at ease in consequence. It was the way
out of a difficulty most dear to many of us--to wit, letting things
drift to settle themselves.
And so matters went on for some days. Frank had been constantly in
company with Andrew Forbes, and his admiration for the handsome lad grew
into a hearty friendship, which was as warmly returned.
"He can't help knowing he is good-looking," thought Frank, "and that
makes him a bit conceited; but it will soon wear off. I shall joke him
out of it. And he knows so much. He is so manly. He makes me feel
like an awkward schoolboy beside him."
Frank knitted his brow a little over these thoughts, but he brightened
up with a laugh directly.
"I think I could startle him, though," he said half aloud, "if I had him
down at Winchester."
It was one bright morning at the Palace, where he was standing at the
anteroom window just after the regular morning military display, and he
had hardly thought this when a couple of hands were passed over his
eyes, and he was held fast.
"I know who it is," he said, "though you don't think it. It's you,
Drew."
"How did you know?" said that individual merrily.
"Because you have hands like a girl's, and no lady here would have done
it."
"Bah! hands like a girl's indeed! I shall have to lick you into a
better shape, bear. You grow too insolent."
"Very well; why don't you begin?" said Frank merrily.
"Because I don't choose. Look here, young one; I want you to come out
with me for a bit this afternoon."
"No, thank you," replied the boy, shaking his head. "I don't want to go
and see mad politicians quarrel and fight in the city, and get nearly
squeezed to death."
"Who wants you to? It's only to go for a walk."
"That was going for a walk."
"Afraid of getting your long hair taken out of curl?" said Andrew
banteringly.
"No; that would curl up again; but I don't want to have my clothes torn
off my back."
"You won't get them torn off this afternoon. I want you to come in the
Park there, down by the water-side. You'll like that, savage."
"Yes, of course. Can we fish?"
"No, that wouldn't do; but I tell you what: you can take some bread with
you and feed the ducks."
"Take some bread with me and feed the ducks!" cried the boy
contemptuously.
"Well, that's what I'm going to do. Then you won't come?"
"Yes, I will, Drew, if I can get away. Of course I will. Oh, mother,
you there?"
Lady Gowan had just entered the room, and came up toward the window,
smiling, and looking proud, happy, and almost too young to be the mother
of the stout, manly-looking boy who hurried to meet her; and court
etiquette did not hinder a loving exchange of kisses. She shook hands
directly after with Andrew Forbes.
"I am afraid that you two find it very dull here sometimes," she said.
"Well, yes, Lady Gowan," said the youth, "I often do. I'm not like
Frank here, with his friends at court."
"But I have so few opportunities for seeing him, Mr Forbes. After a
few weeks, though, I shall be at home yonder, and then you must come and
spend as much time there as you can with Frank."
Andrew bowed and smiled, and said something about being glad.
"Frank dear," said Lady Gowan, "I have had a letter from your father
this morning, and I have written an answer. He wants to see you for a
little while. He is at home for a couple of days. You can take the
note across."
"Yes," cried Frank, flushing with pleasure; but the next moment he
turned to Andrew with an apologetic look.
"What is the matter?" said Lady Gowan. "Am I interrupting some plans?"
"Oh, nothing, nothing, Lady Gowan," said Andrew, warmly.
"I was going out with Drew, mother; but we can go another time. He will
not mind."
"But it was only this afternoon."
"Oh!" cried Lady Gowan, "he will be back in an hour or so. I am glad
that you were going out, my boy; it will make a little change for you.
And I am very glad, Mr Forbes, that he has found so kind a companion."
Andrew played the courtier to such perfection, that as soon as she had
passed out of the room with her son Lady Gowan laughed merrily.
"In confidence, Frank," she said, "and not to hurt Mr Forbes's
feelings, do not imitate his little bits of courtly etiquette. They
partake too much of the dancing-master. I like to see my boy natural
and manly. There, quick to your father, with my dear love, and tell him
I am longing for his leave, when we can have, I hope, a couple of months
in Hampshire."
"Hah!" ejaculated Frank, as he hurried across the Park; "a couple of
months in Hampshire. I wonder how long it will be?"
Ten minutes later he was going up two steps at a time to the room
affected by his father in the spacious house in Queen Anne Street,
where, as soon as he threw open the door, he caught sight of the lightly
built but vigorous and active-looking officer in scarlet, seated at the
window overlooking the Park, deep in a formidable-looking letter.
"Ah, Frank, my dear boy," he cried, hurriedly thrusting the letter into
his breast, "this is good. What, an answer already? You lucky young
dog, to have the best woman in the world for a mother. Bless her!" he
cried, kissing the letter and placing it with the other; "I'll read that
when you are gone. Not come to stay, I suppose?"
"No, father," cried the boy, whose eyes flashed with excitement as they
took in every portion of the officer in turn. "I've only come to bring
the note; mother said you wished to see me."
"Of course, my boy, so as to have a few words. I just catch a glimpse
of you now and then, but it's only a nod."
"And I do often long so to come to you," cried Frank, with his arm upon
his father's shoulder.
"That's right, boy," said Sir Robert, smiling and taking his hands; "but
it wouldn't do for the captain of the guard to be hugging his boy before
everybody, eh? We men must be men, and do all that sort of thing with a
nod or a look. As long as we understand each other, my boy, that's
enough, eh?"
"Yes, father, of course."
"But bravo, Frank; you're growing and putting on muscle. By George,
yes! Arms are getting hard, and--good--fine depth of chest for your
age. Don't, because you are the Prince's page, grow into a dandy
macaroni milk-sop, all scent, silk, long curls, and pomatum. I want you
to grow into a man, fit for a soldier to fight for his king."
"And that's what I want to do, father," said the lad proudly.
"Of course you do; and so you will. You are altering wonderfully, boy.
Why, hallo! I say," cried the captain, with mock seriousness, as he
held his son sidewise and gazed at his profile against the light.
"What's the matter, father?" cried Frank, startled.
"Keep your head still, sir; I want to look. Yes, it's a fact--very
young and tender, but there it is; it's coming up fast. Why, Frank boy,
you'll soon have to shave."
"What nonsense!" cried the boy, reddening partly at being laughed at,
but quite as much with satisfaction.
"It's no nonsense, you young dog. There's your moustache coming, and no
mistake. Why, if I had a magnifying-glass, I could see it quite
plainly."
"I say, father, don't; I can't stop long, and--and--that teases one."
"Then I won't banter you, boy," cried Sir Robert, clapping him heartily
on the shoulder; "but, I say, you know: it's too bad of you, sir. I
don't like it."
"What is, father? What have I done?"
"Oh I suppose you can't help it; but it's too bad of you to grow so
fast, and make your mother look an old woman."
"That she doesn't, father," cried the boy. "Why, she's the
youngest-looking and most beautiful lady at court."
"So she is, my boy--so she is. Heaven bless her!"
"And as for you, father, you talk about looking old, and about me
growing big and manly; I shall never grow into such a fine, handsome
officer as you."
"Why, you wicked, parasitical, young court flatterer!" cried Sir Robert;
"you're getting spoiled and sycophantish already."
"I'm not, father!" cried the boy, flushing; "it's quite true, every word
of it. Everybody says what a noble-looking couple you are."
"Do they, my boy?" said the father more gently, and there was a trace of
emotion in his tone. "But there's not much couple in it, living apart
like this. Ah, well, we have our duty to do, and mine is cut out for
me. But never mind the looks, Frank, my boy, and the gay uniform; it's
the man I want you to grow into. But all the same, sir, nature is
nature. Look there."
"What, at grandfather's portrait?"
"Yes, boy. You will not need to have yours painted, and I have not had
mine taken for the same reason. Is it like me?"
"Yes, father. If you were dressed the same, it would be exactly like
you."
"In twenty years' time it will do for you."
Frank laughed.
"But I say yes, sir," cried Sir Robert. "Why, in sixteen years' time,
if I could have stood still, we two would be as much alike as a couple
of peas. But in sixteen years perhaps I shall be in my grave."
"Father!"
"Well, I'm a soldier, my boy; and soldiers have to run risks more than
other men."
"Oh, but you won't; you're too big and brave."
"Ha--ha--ha! Flattering again. Why, Frank, I sometimes think I'm a
coward."
"You! A coward! I should like to hear any one say so."
"A good many will perhaps, boy. But there, never mind that; and perhaps
after all you had better not follow my profession."
"What! not be a soldier!"
"Yes. Do you really wish to be?"
"Why of course, father; I don't want to be a palace lapdog all my life."
"Bravo, Frank! well said!" cried the father heartily. "Well, you come
of a military family, and I dare say I can get you a commission when the
beard really does grow so that it can be seen without an optic glass."
"Oh, I say, father, you're beginning to tease again. I say, do get up
and walk across the room."
"Eh? What for?"
"I want to look at you."
Sir Robert smiled and shook his head. Then, slowly rising, he drew
himself up in military fashion, and marched slowly across the room and
back, with his broad-skirted scarlet and gold uniform coat, white
breeches, and high boots, and hand resting upon his sword hilt, and
looking the beau ideal of an officer of the King's Guards.
"There, have I been weak enough, Frank?" he said, stopping in front of
his son, and laying his hands affectionately upon his shoulders. "All
show, my boy. When you've worn it as long as I have, you will think as
little of it; but it is quite natural for it to attract a boy like you.
But now sit down and tell me a little about how you spend your time. I
find that you have quite taken up with Andrew Forbes. His father
promised me that the lad should try and be companionable to you. Forbes
is an old friend of mine still, though he is in disgrace at court. How
do you get on with Andrew? Like him?"
"Oh, very much, father."
"Well, don't like him too much, my boy. Lads of your age are rather too
ready to make idols of showy fellows a year or two older, and look up to
them and imitate them, when too often the idol is not of such good stuff
as the worshipper. So you like him?"
"Yes, father."
"Kind and helpful to you?"
"Oh, very."
"Well, what is it?"
"What is what, father?"
"That cloudy look on your face. Why, Frank, I've looked at you so often
that I can read it quite plainly. Why, you've been quarrelling with
Andrew Forbes!"
"Oh no, father; we're the best of friends."
"Then what is it, Frank? You are keeping something back."
Sir Robert spoke almost sternly, and the son shrank from gazing in the
fine, bold, questioning eyes.
"I knew it," said Sir Robert. "What is it, boy? Speak out."
It was the firm officer talking now, and Frank felt his breath come
shorter as his heart increased the speed of its pulsations.
"Well, sir, I am waiting. Why don't you answer?"
"I can't, father."
"Can't? I thought my boy always trusted his father, as he trusts his
son. There, out with it, Frank. The old saying, my lad. The truth may
be blamed, but can never be shamed. What is it--some scrape? There,
let's have it, and get it over. Always come to me, my boy. We are none
of us perfect, so let there be no false shame. If you have done wrong,
come to me and tell me like a man. If it means punishment, that will
not be one hundredth part as painful to you as keeping it back and
forfeiting my confidence in my dear wife's boy."
"Oh, I would come. I have wanted to come to you about this, but I felt
that I could not."
"Why?"
"Because it would be dishonourable."
"Perhaps that is only your opinion, Frank. Would it not be better for
me to give you my opinion?"
The boy hesitated for a moment. Then quickly:
"I gave my word, father."
"To whom?"
"Andrew Forbes."
"Not to speak of whatever it is?"
"Yes, father."
Sir Robert Gowan sat looking stern and silent for a few moments as if
thinking deeply.
"Frank boy," he said at last. "I am a man of some experience; you are a
mere boy fresh from a country school, and now holding a post which may
expose you to many temptations. I, then, as your father, whose desire
is to watch over you and help you to grow into a brave and good man,
hold that it would not be dishonourable for you to confide in me in
every way. It can be no dishonour for you to trust me."
"Then I will tell you, father;" and the boy hastily laid bare his
breast, telling of his adventures with Andrew Forbes, and how great a
source of anxiety they had proved to be.
"Hah!" said Sir Robert, after sitting with knitted brows looking
curiously at his son and hearing him to the end. "Well, I am very glad
that you have spoken, my boy, and I think it will be right for you to
stand your ground, and be ready to laugh at Master Andrew and his
political associations. It is what people call disloyal and treasonable
on one side; on the other, it is considered noble and right. But you
need not trouble your head about that. Andrew Forbes is after all a
mere boy, very enthusiastic, and led away perhaps by thoughts of the
Prince living in exile instead of sitting on the throne of England. But
you don't want to touch politics for the next ten years. It would be
better for many if they never touched them at all. There, I am glad you
have told me."
"So am I now, father. But you will not speak about it all, so as to get
Drew in disgrace?"
"I give you my word I will not, Frank. Oh, nonsense! It is froth--
fluff; a chivalrous boy's fancy and sympathy for one he thinks is
oppressed. No, Frank, no words of mine will do Drew Forbes any harm;
but as for you--"
"Yes, father."
"Do all you can to help him and hold him back. It would be a pity for
him to suffer through being rash. They might treat it all as a boy's
nonsense--No, it would mean disgrace. Keep him from it if you can."
"I, father! He is so much older than I am, and I looked up to him."
"Proof of what I said, Frank," cried Sir Robert, clapping his son upon
the shoulder. "He is a bright, showy lad; but you carry more ballast
than he. Brag's a good dog, you know, but Holdfast's a better. Now,
then, I think you ought to be going back. Good-bye, my boy. I look to
you to be your mother's protector more and more. Perhaps in the future
I may be absent. But you must go now, for I have an important letter to
write. My dear love to your mother, and come to me again whenever you
have a chance."
Sir Robert went down to the garden door with his son, and let him out
that way into the Park.
"Mind," he said at parting. "Keep away from political mobs."
"I will," said Frank to himself, as he turned back. "Well, it will be
all right going with Drew this afternoon, as it is only to feed the
ducks."