"Any fresh news?"
"No. Have you any?"
"Not much; but I've seen the doctor again this morning."
"You told me yesterday that he said you were not to dare to come to him
any more."
"Yesterday! Why, that was four days ago."
"Nonsense! That would have been before the duel."
"I say, Frank, are you going out of your mind?"
"I don't know," said the boy wearily. "My head's muddled with want of
sleep."
"Muddled? I should think it is. Why, it's a week to-day since that
glorious fight in the Park."
"Glorious?"
"Yes. I wish our officers would challenge all the German officers,
fight them, and wound them, and send them out of the country."
"Don't talk nonsense. Talk about the doctor. He did tell you not to
come any more."
"Yes; he said he wouldn't be bothered by a pack of boys."
"Yes; he said the same to me every time I went."
"Every time! Have you been there much?"
"About four times a day."
"No wonder he was snappish to me, then."
"I suppose it has been tiresome, and he has called me all sorts of
names, and said I worried his life out; but he always ended by smiling
and shaking hands."
"You haven't been this morning of course?"
"Yes, I have."
"Well?"
"He says father's arm is going on well; but the baron is very bad."
"Serve him right."
"But I want him to get well."
"Oh, he'll get well some day. He's such a big, thick fellow, that it's
a long wound from front to back, and takes time. Be a lesson to him. I
say, how's Lady Gowan?"
"Very miserable and low-spirited."
"Humph!" ejaculated Andrew; and he glanced in a curious, furtive way at
his companion. "I say, I thought the Princess was to speak to the King,
and get your father pardoned."
"She did speak to him, and the Prince has too."
"Well?"
"We don't know any more yet. I suppose my father is kept under arrest
so as to punish him."
"Yes," said Andrew, with a strange hesitation, which took Frank's
attention.
"Why did you say `_yes_' like that?" he cried, with his dull, listless
manner passing off, and a keen, eager look in his eyes.
"Did I say `_yes_' like that?"
"You know you did. What is it you are keeping back, Drew?"
"I say, don't talk like that," said Andrew petulantly. "I never saw
such a fellow as you are. Here, only the other day you looked up to me
in everything, and I tried to teach you how to behave like a young man
of the world in courtly society."
"Yes, you did, and I am greatly obliged; but--"
"Seems like it," said Andrew sharply. "Then all at once you set up your
hackles, and show fight like a young cockerel, and begin bouncing over
me--I mean trying to; and it won't do, young Gowan. I'm your senior."
"Yes, yes, I know," cried Frank angrily; "but this is all talk, just for
the sake of saying something to put me off. Now speak out; what is it
you're keeping back?"
"There you go again, bully Gowan! Here, I say, you know I'm not going
to stand this. You keep your place."
"Don't, don't, Drew, when I'm in such trouble!" cried Frank appealingly.
"Ah! that's better. Now you've dropped into your place again, boy."
"You have something fresh--some great trouble--and you are hiding it
from me."
"Well, how can I help it?" said Andrew. "You're bad enough as it is,
and I don't want to make matters worse."
"But that's what you are doing. Why don't you speak?"
"Because you'll go and tell dear Lady Gowan, and it will half kill her."
"What!" cried Frank, springing at his companion, and catching him by the
shoulder.
"And I look upon her as if she was my mother as well as yours, and I'd
cut off my hand sooner than hurt her feelings more."
"I knew there was something fresh," cried Frank excitedly; "and,
whatever it is, I must tell her, Drew. I promised her that I'd be quite
open, and keep nothing from her."
"There, I knew I was right. How can I help keeping it back? And don't,
Frank lad. I say, how strong you are. You're ragging my collar about.
I shan't be fit to be seen."
"Then why don't you speak? It's cruel, horrible," cried Frank hoarsely.
"Because it comes so hard, old lad. I feel just as you told me you felt
when you had to go and tell Lady Gowan that morning."
"Yes, yes, I know; but do--do speak! You've tortured me enough."
"I've just seen Captain Murray."
"Ah!"
"He was coming out of the colonel's quarters."
"Well? Be quick--oh, do be quick!"
"I ran to him, and he took me into his room and told me."
"Yes--told you--what?"
"He said he was very sorry for you and Lady Gowan, but the King was as
hard as a rock. The Prince had been at him, and the Princess too; but
he would hardly listen to them, and the most he would do was--It seems
that Steinberg is a very old favourite."
"Oh, I knew all that long ago! Why do you break off in that tantalising
way?"
"There is to be no regular court-martial, such as was to have been as
soon as the doctor said Sir Robert could bear it."
"Yes, yes."
"Oh, it's no, no, Frank. He's to be dismissed from his regiment."
"I was afraid so," cried Frank. "But to exchange into another. What
regiment is he to go in?"
Andrew was silent.
"Well, go on! Why don't you speak?" cried Frank wildly. "I asked you
what regiment he was to go in."
"No regiment at all. He's dismissed from the King's service, and he is
to leave the country. If he comes back, he is to be severely punished."
"Oh, they could not punish him more severely," cried Frank, with an
angry stamp of the foot.
"Yes, they could. His Majesty"--Andrew Forbes said the two last words
with bitter irony in his tones--"might order his execution."
"Then we are all to go away," said Frank, frowning.
"I don't know about that," replied Andrew. "But it's a good thing for
your father."
"What! A good thing?"
"Yes; to get out of the service of such a miserable usurper. If it were
not for the terrible upset to Lady Gowan, I should be ready to
congratulate her."
"That will do," said Frank sharply. "Don't get introducing your
principles here."
"Our principles," whispered Andrew, with a meaning look.
"Your principles," continued Frank, with emphasis. "I'm in no temper
for that, and I don't want to quarrel. I must go and tell her as soon
as I'm off duty. She'll be ready to hate the sight of me for always
bringing her bad news."
But before the boy was relieved from his daily duties in the anteroom, a
note was brought to him from Lady Gowan confirming Andrew's words. In
fact, Frank's mother had known the worst over-night. But there was
other news in the letter which told the lad that his father was to leave
London that evening, that he was to accompany his mother to see him for
a farewell interview, and that she wished him to be ready to go with her
at seven o'clock.
Frank read the letter twice, and felt puzzled. He read it again, and
sought out his friend.
"Been to see Lady Gowan?" Andrew asked.
"No; read this."
The lad took the letter, shrugged his shoulders as he read it, and
handed it back.
"That's plain enough," he said bitterly.
"Do you think so? I don't. I can't make out the end."
"You are to call for Lady Gowan, and take her to Sir Robert's quarters."
"No, no, I mean about a farewell visit."
"Well, isn't that plain?"
"But we shall go too."
"I don't think so. Your mother is the Princess's friend, and she does
not wish to lose her. You will both have to stay."
"Impossible!" cried Frank excitedly.
"Well, we shall see," said Andrew meaningly.
That evening Frank took his mother, closely veiled, to Sir Robert's
quarters, where he had been ever since the duel, with a sentry beneath
his window, another stationed at his door.
The pass Lady Gowan bore admitted them at once, and the next minute they
were in Sir Robert's room, to find him looking pale and stern, busily
finishing with his servant the preparations for an immediate start.
The man was dismissed, and father, mother, and son were alone.
Lady Gowan was the first to speak.
"You know the orders that have been given, Robert?" she said.
"Yes; I travel with a strong escort to Harwich, where I am to take ship
and cross."
"Of course we are going with you, Robert," said Lady Gowan.
Sir Robert was silent for a few moments, and Frank stood watching him
anxiously, eager to hear his reply.
"No," he said at last. "I am driven out of the country, and it would
not be right to take you with me now."
"Robert!" cried Lady Gowan.
"Hush!" he said appealingly. "I have much to bear now; don't add to my
burden. At present I have no plans. I do not even know where I shall
direct my steps. I am to be shipped off to Ostend. It would be madness
to take you from here yet. The Princess is your friend, and I
understand that the Prince is well-disposed toward me. You must stay
here for the present."
"But I am sure that her Royal Highness will wish me to leave her service
now."
"And I am not," said Sir Robert. "For the present I wish you to stay."
Lady Gowan bent down and kissed his hand in obedience to her husband's
wishes.
"But you will take me with you, father?" cried Frank.
"You, my boy? No. You cannot leave your mother. She and I both look
to you to fill my place till the happier days come, when I can return to
England. You hear me, Frank?"
A protest was on the lad's lips; but there was a stern decision in Sir
Robert's eyes and tones which silenced it, and with quivering lip he
stood listening to his father's instructions, till there was a tap at
the door, and an officer appeared to announce that the visitors must
leave.
"Very well," said Sir Robert quietly, and the officer withdrew.
"Oh, father!" cried Frank, "let me go and ask for another hour."
"No, my boy," said Sir Robert, firmly. "It is better so. Why should we
try to prolong pain? Good-bye, Frank, till we meet again. You must be
a man now, young as you are. I leave your mother in your care."
His farewell to Lady Gowan was very brief, and then at his wish she tore
herself away, and with her veil drawn-down to hide her emotion, she
hurried out, resting on Frank's arm; while he, in spite of his father's
recent words, was half choked as he felt how his mother was sobbing.
"Don't speak to me, dear," she whispered, as they reached her
apartments. "I cannot bear it. I feel as if we were forsaking your
father in the time of his greatest need."
It was painful to leave her suffering; but there was a feeling of desire
urging the lad away, and he hurried out, finding Andrew faithfully
waiting at the door, and ready to press his hand in sympathy.
"It's terribly hard, lad," he said. "Oh, dear; what a wicked world it
is! But you are coming to see him go?"
Frank nodded--he could not trust himself to speak--and they started back
for Sir Robert's quarters.
They were none too soon; for already a couple of coaches were at the
door, and a military guard was drawn up, keeping back a little crowd,
the wind of the approaching departure having got abroad.
The lads noticed that fully half were soldiers; but they had little time
for making observations, for already Sir Robert was at the door, and the
next minute he had stepped into the first coach, the second, standing
back, being filled with guards, one being beside the coachman on the
box, and two others standing behind. An officer and two soldiers
followed Sir Robert. The door was banged to as Frank and Andrew dashed
forward, and forced their way past the sentries who kept back the crowd.
It required little effort, for as soon as the Guards recognised them
they gave place, and enabled them to run beside the coach for a little
way, waving their hands to the banished man.
Sir Robert saw them, and leaned forward, and his face appeared at the
window, when, as if influenced by one spirit, the soldiers uttered a
tremendous cheer, the rest joined in, and the next minute the boys stood
panting outside in front of the clock tower, with the carriages
disappearing on their way east.
"Oh, Frank, Frank!" cried Andrew excitedly, "is this free England? If
we had only known--if we had only known."
Frank's heart was too full for speech, and, hardly heeding his
companion's words, he stood gazing after the two coaches, feeling lower
in spirits than he ever had before in his life.
"We ought to have known that the soldiers and the people were all upon
his side. A little brave effort, with some one to lead them, and we
could have rescued him. The men would have carried everything before
them."
"Rather curious expressions of opinion for one of the royal pages, young
gentleman," said a stern voice.
"Captain Murray!" cried Andrew, who was thoroughly startled to find his
words taken up so promptly by some one behind him.
"Yes, my lad, Captain Murray. I am glad, Gowan, that such words did not
fall from you, though in your case they would have been more excusable."
"Perhaps, sir," cried Frank, in his loyalty to his friend, though
truthfully enough, "it was because I could not speak. I wish I had
helped to do it, though."
"Hah! Yes, brave and manly, but weak and foolish, my boy. Recollect
what and where you are, and that whispers spoken in the precincts of the
Palace often have echoes which magnify them and cause those who uttered
them much harm."
"I'm not sorry I spoke," said Andrew hotly. "It has been horribly
unjust to Sir Robert Gowan."
"Suppose we discuss that shut in between four walls which have no ears,
my lad. But let me ask you this, my hot-blooded young friend--suppose
you had roused the soldiers into rising and rescuing Sir Robert Gowan,
what then?"
"It would have been a very gallant thing, sir," said Andrew haughtily.
"Of course, very brave and dashing, but a recklessly impulsive act.
What would have followed?"
Captain Murray turned from Andrew to Frank, and the latter saw by the
dim lamplight that the words were addressed more particularly to him.
"We should have set him free."
"No. You might have rescued him from his guards; but he would have been
no more free than he is now. He could not have stayed in England, but
would have had to make for the coast, and escape to France or Holland in
some smuggler's boat. You see he would have been just where he is now.
But it is more probable that you would not have secured him, for the
guard would at the first attempt have been called upon to fire, and many
lives would have been sacrificed for nothing."
"I thought you were Sir Robert Gowan's friend, sir," said Andrew
bitterly.
"So I am, boy; but I am the King's servant, sworn to obey and defend
him. His Majesty's commands were that Sir Robert should leave his
service, and seek a home out of England. It is our duty to obey. And
now listen to me, Mr Andrew Forbes, and you too, Frank Gowan; and if I
speak sternly, remember it is from a desire to advise my old comrade's
son and his companion for the best. A still tongue maketh a wise head.
But I am not going to preach at you; and it is better that you should
take it to heart--you in particular, Andrew Forbes, for you occupy a
peculiar position here. Your father is a proscribed rebel."
"You dare to say that of my father!" cried the lad, laying his hand upon
his sword.
"Yes, you foolish lad. Let that hilt alone. Keep your sword for your
enemies, not for your friends, even if they tell you unpleasant truths.
Your tongue, my lad, runs too freely, and will get you sooner or later
into trouble. Men have been punished for much less than you have said,
even to losing their lives."
"Is this what a King's officer should do?" cried Andrew, who was white
with anger,--"play the part of a spy?"
"Silly, hot-headed boy," said Captain Murray. "I saw you both, and came
up to speak to my old friend's son, when I could not help hearing what
your enemies would call traitorous remarks. Frank, my lad, you are the
younger in years, but you have the older head, and you must not be led
away by this hot-blooded fellow. There, come both of you to my
quarters."
"Frank, I'm going to my room," said Andrew, ignoring the captain's
words.
"No, you are coming with us," said Captain Murray. "Frank, my lad, your
father asked me to give an eye to you, and bade me tell you that if you
were ever in any difficulty you were to come to me for help. Remember
that please, for I will help Robert Gowan's son in every way I can."
The friendly feeling he had already had for his father's companion all
came back on the instant, and Frank held out his hand.
"Hah, that's right, boy. You have your father's eye for a friend. Come
along, and let's have a quiet chat. I want company to-night, for this
business makes one low-spirited. Come along, Hotspur."
"Do you mean to continue insulting me, sir?" said Andrew sharply.
"I? No. There, you are put out because I spoke so plainly. Look here,
Forbes, I should not like to see you arrested and dismissed from your
service for uttering treasonable words, and you will be one of these
days. It is being talked about in the Palace, but fortunately only by
your friends. Come, it is only a few steps, and we may as well talk
sitting down."
The lad was on the point of declining coldly; but the officer's extended
hand and genial smile disarmed him, and there was something so
attractive in his manner that, unable to resist, he allowed Captain
Murray to pass an arm through his and march both lads to his quarters.
"Hah! this is better," he said, as he placed chairs for his visitors.
"Poor old Gowan! I wish he were with us. Why, Frank, my lad, what a
series of adventures in a short time! Only the other night, and we were
all sitting comfortably at dinner. How soon a storm springs up. Heard
the last about our German friend?"
"Enemy," muttered Andrew.
"Well, enemy if you like. I saw the doctor just before I caught sight
of you, and he told me--"
"Not dead?" said Frank wildly.
"No. He has made a sudden change for the better. The doctor says he
has the constitution of an ox, and that has pulled him through."
"Ugh!" ejaculated Andrew; and Frank spoke hastily to cover his
companion's rudeness.
"How long do you think my father will have to be away?"
"Till his. Majesty dies, or, if he is fortunate, till your mother and
the Princess have won over his Royal Highness to do battle with his
father on your father's behalf."
"But do you think he is likely to succeed?"
"I hope so, my lad. The King may give way. It will not be from
friendly feeling, or a desire to do a kind action--what do you call
it?--an act of clemency."
"He'll never pardon Sir Robert!" cried Andrew, bringing his fist down
upon the table heavily.
"I think he will," said Captain Murray; "for his Majesty is a keen man
of the world, a good soldier, and a good judge of soldiers. I think
that out of policy, and the knowledge that he is very unpopular, he may
think it wise to pardon a gallant officer, and to bring him back into
the ranks of the men whom he can trust."
"Yes, yes," cried Frank excitedly; and his eyes brightened as he
treasured up words, every one of which would, he felt sure, gladden his
mother's heart.
"Hadn't you better get up and see if any one is listening at the door,
Captain Murray?" said Andrew sarcastically.
"Because my words sound treasonable, my lad?"
"Yes, and may be magnified by the echoes of the Palace walls, sir."
The big, frank officer sank back in his chair, and laughed merrily.
"You're a queer fellow, Forbes--a clever fellow--with a splendid memory;
but--there, don't feel insulted--you must have been meant for a woman:
you have such a sharp, spiteful tongue. No, no, no--sit still. You
must take as well as give. Do you two ever fall out, Frank? He's as
hot as pepper."
"Yes, often," said Frank, smiling; "but we soon make it up again, for
he's about the bravest and best fellow I ever knew."
As Frank spoke, he reached over and gripped his friend's arm warmly.
"You don't know how good and kind and helpful he has been in all this
trouble."
"I believe it," said Captain Murray, smiling. "He's a lucky fellow too,
for he has won a good friend. You hear, Hotspur? A good friend in
Frank here, who is the very spit of his father, one of the bravest,
truest soldiers that ever lived."
These words were said in a way which made Frank feel a little choky, and
turned the tide of Andrew Forbes's anger, which now ebbed rapidly away.
"You'll come to me, my lads, both of you, if you want help?" said the
captain, at their parting an hour later.
"Yes, of course," cried Frank eagerly; but Andrew Forbes was silent.
"And you, Andrew lad. Gowan asked me to be a friend to you too; for he
said that Lady Gowan liked you, and that it was a hard position for a
lad like you to be placed in, and he is right."
"Did Sir Robert say that, sir?" said the lad huskily.
"Yes, when we said good-bye."
"Yes, I will come to you, sir--when I can."
The last words were to himself, and he was silent for some time as they
walked back to their quarters.
"I wish I hadn't such a sharp temper, Frank," he said at last. "But it
is a queer position, and the harness galls me. I can't help it. I
ought to go away."