He trembled at the thought; but making a brave effort, he well bathed
his aching temples with cold water, and went down to the evening meal,
made a show of eating, and then excused himself on the plea of a very
bad headache, got up, and was leaving the room, when, to his horror,
Andrew joined him.
"Here," he said, "I don't like to see you in this way. I helped to give
you this headache. Let's go and have a walk up and down the courtyard."
"No, don't you come," said Frank, so earnestly that Andrew gave way and
drew back.
"Very well," he said. "Go and lie down for a bit; you'll be better
then."
Frank made as if to go to his room, but took his hat and cloak and
slipped out, forcing himself to cross the courtyard calmly and walk
carelessly by the sentries, turning off directly after in the opposite
direction to that in which he wished to go, and without seeming to pay
any attention kept his eyes travelling in all directions in search of
the man they had seen in the afternoon.
But he was nowhere visible, and to make more sure the lad took off his
hat to fan himself, the evening being warm, and in so doing purposely
dropped his glove, so that in stooping to recover it he could give a
good look to the rear to see whether he was followed.
But there was no one suspicious-looking in sight, and, taking advantage
of the darkness of the soft, warm evening, he began to walk more
sharply, going through the Park till he was opposite to the house, and
after glancing to right and left, to make sure that he was not observed,
he began to examine it carefully. Those to right and left had several
windows illumined, but his old London home was all in complete darkness,
though he felt that if he went round to the street front he would see a
light in the housekeeper's room.
Dark, everywhere dark; no gleam showing anywhere, not even at the window
upon which his eyes had last rested when he was there that afternoon.
"Fancy," he thought; and he breathed more freely. "Yes, it must have
been fancy."
"No, it was not fancy!" and his heart began to throb violently, his
breath came short, and he looked wildly to right and left, and then
walked across the road to stand beneath the trees to make sure that no
one was watching from there.
But he was quite alone as far as he could see, and he ran lightly back
to the railings, wild with excitement now, and stood gazing across the
little garden at that back window which was heavily curtained; but right
up in the left-hand corner there was a faint glow, which he soon proved
to himself could not be a reflection on the glass from outside.
Then he was right; and, panting now as if he had been running heavily,
he went round into the street, reached the front of the house, where, as
he had expected, he could see low down the faintly illumined blind of
the housekeeper's room, and then rang gently.
He waited, and there was no response; and he rang again, but the time
passed again; minutes--more probably moments--elapsed before he heard a
window opened softly overhead.
"What is it?" said a woman's voice.
"Come down and open the door, Berry," said the boy quickly.
"You, Master Frank?"
"Yes; make haste."
"Is--is any one with you?" said the woman in a whisper, "because I don't
like opening the door after dark."
"No, I'm quite alone. Make haste."
The woman did not stop to close the window, and the next minute Frank
heard the bolts drawn softly back, the key turned, and as the door was
being opened he stepped forward, but only to stop short on the step, for
the housekeeper had not removed the chain.
"What is it, my dear?" she said.
She had not brought a light, and Frank could dimly see her face at the
narrow opening.
"What is it?" cried Frank impatiently. "Take down the chain, and let me
in. Don't keep me standing here."
"But her ladyship gave me strict orders, my dear, that I wasn't to admit
any one after dark, for there are so many wicked people about."
"Did my father tell you not to admit me?" whispered Frank, with his face
close to the narrow slit.
"What! before he went abroad, my dear?" faltered the woman.
"No, no--yesterday, to-day--whenever he came back."
"Sir Robert, my dear?" whispered the woman, with her voice trembling.
"Don't be so stupid. I must--I will see him. I saw his face at the
window this afternoon."
"Oh, my dear, my dear!" stammered the woman.
"There, take down the chain, Berry."
"I--I don't think I ought, my dear. Stop a minute, and I'll go and ask
him."
"No, no. Let me go up at once. You'll be quite right in letting me."
The woman uttered a gasp, closed the door, and softly unhooked the
chain, after which she opened the door just sufficiently for the boy to
pass in, and closed and fastened it again.
The hall was dark as could be, save for a faint gleam from the fanlight;
but Frank could have gone blindfold, and dashing over the marble floor
to the foot of the staircase, he bounded up two steps at a time, reached
the door of the back room, beneath which shone a line of light, and
turned the handle sharply. As he did so, there was a dull sound within,
and the light was extinguished.
"Open the door, father," whispered the boy, with his lips to the
keyhole. "It is I--Frank."
There was the dull tremor of a heavy step crossing the floor, the door
was unlocked, and the boy sprang forward in the darkness, the door was
closed and relocked, and he was clasped in a pair of strong arms.
"Oh, dad, dad, dad!" cried the lad, in a panting whisper.
"My own boy! Then you saw me this afternoon?"
"Yes, just a faint glimpse of you. Oh, father, father, it wasn't safe
for you to come back!"
"No, not very, my boy; but I couldn't stop away any longer. How is the
dear one?"
"Quite well--only she looks thin and pale, father. She's fretting so
because you are away."
"Hah!" ejaculated Sir Robert, in a long-drawn sigh. "I felt that she
must be, and that helped to draw me back. Heaven bless her!--Frank lad,
as you have found me out--But stop, did you tell her you had seen me?"
"I haven't seen her since, father; and if I had, I shouldn't have dared.
What would she think?"
"Bullets and bayonets, or worse, my boy. Quite right; spoken like the
brave, thoughtful lad you are growing. But it's very hard, Frank.
Don't you think you could manage to bring her over here--say this time
to-morrow evening?"
"Yes, father, easily," said Frank.
"My boy. Oh, if you knew how I long to see her again!"
"Yes, father," said Frank bitterly, "I could bring her, but for what?--
to see you arrested for coming back. It would be madness. There are
spies everywhere. I had to be so careful to get round here without
being followed."
Sir Robert groaned as he stood there in the darkness, holding his son by
his arms in a firm grip.
"I can't help it, father. I must tell you the truth," cried the boy
passionately.
"Yes, you are quite right, boy, and I'm weak and foolish to have
proposed such a thing. But it's hard, my lad--very, very hard."
"Don't I know, father?"
"Yes, yes, boy. But tell me, does she talk about me to you much?"
"She talks of nothing else, father. But listen; I'm going to petition
the King myself. I'm going to kneel to him, and beg him to give you
leave to return."
"You are, my boy?"
"Yes, father," cried Frank excitedly, "directly I get a chance."
"No, Frank, don't do that," said Sir Robert, rather sternly.
"You don't wish me to, father?" Sir Robert drew a deep breath, and then
hoarsely: "No. I desire that you do not. Your mother has through the
Princess prayed and prayed in vain. No, Frank, you shall not do that."
"Very well, father," said the boy drearily. "Hist! Some one!"
whispered Sir Robert; and Frank turned sharply to see light gleaming
beneath the door, and his father stepped away from him, and something on
the table grated softly as it was taken up. Then a soft voice said:
"Wouldn't you like a light, Sir Robert? I saw yours was out."
"Yes," came from close to where Frank stood with his hands turning wet
in the darkness, and then he felt his father brush by him, the door was
unlocked, and the housekeeper's white face was seen lit up by the candle
she carried.
"Thank you, Berry," said Sir Robert; and he took the candle and relocked
the door after the woman.
The light dazzled Frank for a few minutes, and then he was gazing
wonderingly in his father's face, to see that it was thin and careworn,
while the lines in his forehead were deepened.
His sword and pistols lay upon the table close to some sheets of paper,
the inkstand showing that he had been writing when he was interrupted by
his visitor; and the boy noticed, too, that there was a heavy cloak over
a chair back, and the curtains were very closely drawn.
"Don't look so smart as in the old days, Frank, eh?" said Sir Robert,
with a sad smile.
"You look like my father," said the boy firmly.
"And you like my son," cried Sir Robert, patting the boy's head.
"Then you really would not like me to venture to ask the King, father?"
Sir Robert pointed to a chair close by his own, and they sat down, the
father still retaining his boy's hand.
"No, Frank," he said gravely. "I should not now. It is too late."
"But it would mean bringing you back, father."
"I am not a clever man, Frank lad," said Sir Robert. "I am fair as a
soldier, and I know my duties pretty well; but when we get into the maze
of politics and social matters, I am afraid that I am very stupid.
Here, however, I seem to see in a dim sort of way that such a thing as
you propose would be only weak and romantic. It sounds very nice, but
it would only be raising your hopes and--Stop. Does your mother know
that you think of doing this?"
"Oh no, father; the doctor only just suggested it--now that Steinberg
has recovered."
"Very good of the doctor, and I am deeply in his debt for saving that
wretched German baron's life. Not pleasant to have known that you had
killed a man in a quarrel, Frank."
"Horrible, father!" said the boy emphatically.
"Yes, horrible, lad. But the doctor is a better man at wounds than he
is at giving counsel. No, Frank, under any circumstances it would not
have done. King George is too hard and matter-of-fact a man of the
world to be stirred by my boy's appeal. His German folk would look upon
it as weakness, and would be offended. He cannot afford to offend the
German people, for he has no real English friends, and between the two
stools he'd be afraid of coming to the ground. No, you shall not humble
yourself to do this; and," he said firmly, "it is too late."
There was something so commanding in the way these last words were said
that Frank drew a deep sigh of regret, and the hopeful vision faded away
behind the cloud his father drew over it. But the minutes were
precious, and he could not afford time to regret the dashing of his
hopes, when he had him for whose benefit they were designed sitting
there holding his hand.
"Then you are going to stay here now, father?" he said.
"Here? No, Frank. It is only a temporary hiding-place. I shall be off
to-morrow."
"Where to, father?"
"Humph! Don't know for certain, my boy. As you say, the place swarms
with spies, and though I have had to give up my gay uniform, plenty of
people know my face, and I don't even feel now that they are not hunting
me down."
"But if they did, what would happen?"
"A fight, Frank--don't tell your mother this; she suffers enough. I
can't afford to be captured, and--you know what they do with the poor
wretches they take?"
Frank shivered, and glanced at his father's sword and pistols.
"Loaded, father?" he said in a whisper. "Yes, boy."
"And is your sword sharp?"
"As sharp as the cutler could make it. And I know how to use it, Frank;
but a man who carries a sword--if he is a man--is like a bee with its
sting; he will not use it save at the last extremity. You must remember
that with yours."
"Yes, father. But do think again; we are both so unhappy there at the
court."
"What, in the midst of luxury and show!" said Sir Robert banteringly.
"Pah! What is the use of all that when we know that you are driven away
and dare not show your face? Oh, do think again. Can't you let us come
and join you?"
"It is impossible, my boy. Don't press me. I have too many troubles as
it is. Look here, Frank; you are growing fast into a man, and you must
try to help me as you did just now when I turned weak and foolish. The
intense longing to see your mother was too much for me, but I have
mastered it. You two are safe and well-cared for at the Palace, where
the Princess is your mother's friend. I am nobody now, and what I do
will not count as regards your mother and you. So try and be content,
and stay."
"But you, father? Surely the King will forgive you soon."
"Never, boy," said Sir Robert sternly. "So be careful. A hint dropped
of my whereabouts would give your mother intense suffering and dread for
my life; so she must not know."
"But your friends, father? Captain Murray--the doctor. Every one likes
you."
"They must not know, so be cautious. I feel quite a young man, Frank,
and don't want to have my life shortened, nor my body neither," he
added, with a grim smile.
"Oh, father!" cried the boy, with a shudder.
"We must look the worst in the face, Frank. By my return here my life
is forfeit, and the King's people would be justified in shooting me
down."
"Oh, but, father, this is horrible."
"Not to a soldier, Frank," said Sir Robert, smiling. "Soldiers get used
to being shot at, and they don't mind so much, because they know how
hard it is for any one to hit a mark. There, you are warned now, so
let's talk of pleasanter things."
"Yes, of course, father; but I may come and see you again often?"
"If you wish to see me taken."
Frank shuddered again.
"No. This must be your only visit. I am glad you have come; but I
can't afford to indulge in good things now."
"You are going to stay in England, father?" cried Frank anxiously.
"I don't know."
"What are you going to do?"
"That I cannot tell either, my boy; and if I did know, for your mother's
and your peace of mind I would not tell you."
"That isn't trusting me, father," said Frank gloomily.
"And that is not trusting me, Frank--to know what is best."
"Oh, but I do trust you, father. Now tell me," cried the boy eagerly,
"what shall I do to help you?"
"Stay where you are patiently, and watch over and help your mother."
"Is that all, father?" said the boy, in a disappointed tone of voice.
"All? Is it not enough to be trusted to keep my secret, the knowledge
which means your father's life, boy, and to have the guardianship of the
truest and best woman who ever lived--your mother? And you ask `Is that
all?'"
"Don't be angry with me, father. I am very young and stupid. I will be
as contented as I can; only it is so hard to know that you are in
danger, and to be doing nothing to help you."
"You will be doing a great deal to help me, for you will be giving me
rest of mind--and I want it badly enough. There, now you had better go.
You may be asked for, and you can't make the excuse that you have been
to see your father."
"No," sighed Frank. "But I shall see you again soon?"
"Perhaps. I may come here sometimes. An extra hole is useful to a
hunted animal, Frank; but don't question me, my boy, even if I seem
mysterious. As your father, I can tell you nothing."
Frank sighed and clung to his father's arm.
"There, I'll run one risk. You may come here sometimes. It will not
look suspicious for you to visit your mother's empty house."
"My father's empty house," said the boy.
"No, your mother's. Your father is an exile, an outcast, without any
rights in England. I am dead in the eyes of the law, Frank, and when
you come of age you can reign in my stead. Why, boy, if you liked to
make a stand for it, they would, I dare say, tell you that you are now
Sir Frank Gowan."
He looked so merrily in his son's face, that the boy joined in his
mirth.
"You must go now, my boy. I have work that will take me all night. But
if you do come here in the hope of seeing me--"
"I shall not come," said the boy firmly.
"Why?"
"Because, to please myself, I will not do anything to make your position
dangerous."
"Well said, Frank; but come now and then for my pleasure, and if I am
not here, do this."
He rose and walked to a portrait framed in the wainscotting over a side
table, pointed to one little oval nut in the carving, twisted it
slightly, and the picture swung forward, showing a shallow closet behind
fitted with shelves, and in which were swords and pistols, with flasks
of powder and pouches of ball.
"You can look in there; and if I have been, you will find a letter,
written for you and your mother, by a Mr Cross to apparently nobody. I
am Mr Cross, Frank. There. Try if you can open it."
He closed the picture door, and the boy tried, and opened and shut the
panel easily, noting at the same time how ingeniously the carving
tallied with portions on the other side of the framing.
"Now, then, sharp and short like a soldier, Frank. Heaven bless and
protect you and your mother, who must not know I have been here.
Good-bye!"
"Good-bye, father," cried the boy in a choking voice as he clung to the
strong, firm man, who pressed him to his breast, and then snatched
himself away, and caught up sword and pistol from the table.
For there was a sharp, impatient knocking on the panel of the door, and
Sir Robert whispered:
"We have stayed too long!"