Andrew started from his seat as Frank entered the room and the door was
closed and locked behind him; but, seeing who it was, he sat down again
with his face averted.
"Shall I tell him?" thought Frank. "No; it would be like triumphing
over him to show him I have found out that he has been trying to cheat
me into going off."
The boy felt so satisfied and at ease that he was more and more
unwilling to hurt his fellow-prisoner's feelings, and after a while he
spoke.
"I suppose they'll give us something to eat," he said.
Andrew looked up at him in astonishment, but only to frown the next
moment and turn his head away again.
Frank went to the window and stood looking out, one corner commanding a
view of the Park; and after watching the people come and go for some
time, he suddenly turned to his companion:
"Here are the Horse Guards coming, Drew. Want to see them?"
"No. Will you have the goodness to leave me in peace?"
"No," said Frank quietly. "How can I? We're shut up together here
perhaps for ever so long, and we can't keep up that miserable quarrel
now. Hadn't we better shake hands?"
"What do you suppose I'm made of?" said Andrew fiercely.
"Same stuff as I am," replied Frank almost as sharply; "and as I've
shown myself ready to forgive and forget what has happened, you ought to
do the same."
But it was of no use. Try how he would to draw Andrew into
conversation, the latter refused to speak; and at last the boy gave up
in despair, and began to look about the captain's room for something out
of which he could drag some amusement. This last he had to extract from
one of the books on a shelf; but it proved dry and uninteresting, though
it is doubtful whether one of the most cheery nature would have held his
attention long. For he had so much to think about that his mind refused
to grasp the meaning of the different sentences, and one minute he was
wondering whether his father would venture to the house, the next he was
going over the scene of the quarrel in the antechamber. Then he thought
sadly about his interview with his mother, but only to feel elated and
happy, though it was mingled with sorrow at having given her so much
pain.
A little resentment began to spring up, too, against Andrew, as the true
cause of it all, but it did not last; he felt far too much at rest for
that, and the anger gave way to pity for the high-spirited, excitable
lad seated there in the deepest dejection, and he began to wish now that
he had not called him a liar and struck him.
"I shall go melancholy mad," muttered Frank at last, "if they keep us
shut up long, and Drew goes on like this. But I wonder whether there
will really be a rising against the King?"
Curiosity made him try to be communicative, and he turned to his silent
companion.
"Think there really will be any fighting?" he said.
Andrew turned to him sharply.
"Why do you ask?" he said.
"Simple reason: because I want to know."
"You have some other reason."
"Because I want to send word to the Prince that you are a rebel, and
intend to go and join the Pretender's followers, of course," said Frank
sarcastically. "Don't be so spiteful, Drew. We can't live here like
this. Why don't you let bygones be bygones?"
"What interest can it be to you?" said Andrew, ignoring the latter part
of his fellow-prisoner's remark.
"Do you suppose such a rising can take place without its being of
interest to every one? There, we won't talk about it unless you like.
Look here, I can't sit still doing nothing; it gives me pins and needles
in my hands and feet. I'll ring and ask Captain Murray to let us have a
draught board if you'll play."
"Pish!" cried Andrew contemptuously; and Frank sighed and gave up again,
to take refuge in staring out of the window for some time.
Then his tongue refused to be quiet, and he cried to his silent
companion:
"There is something going on for certain. I've counted twelve officers
go by since I've been standing here."
There was no heed paid to his remark, and at last the boy drew a breath
full of relief, for he heard steps on the stairs, the sentry's piece
rattled, and then the key turned in the lock, and Captain Murray
entered, looking very stern.
"Frank Gowan," he said, "you give me your _parole d'honneur_ that you
will not do anything foolish in the way of attempting to escape?"
"Oh yes, of course, sir," said the boy. "I don't want to escape."
"That's right. And you, Andrew Forbes?"
"No; I shall make no promises," was the reply.
"Don't be foolish, my lad. You ought to have cooled down by this time.
Give me your word: it will make your position bearable, and mine easy."
"I shall give no promises," said Andrew haughtily. "I have been
arrested, and brought here a prisoner, and I shall act as a prisoner
would."
"Try to escape? Don't attempt to do anything so foolish, my lad. I
will speak out like a friend to you. There has been some important news
brought to the Palace; the guard has been quadrupled in number, double
sentries have been placed, and they would fire at any one attempting to
pass the gates without the word to-night. Now, give me your promise."
"I--will--not," said Andrew, speaking firmly, and meeting the captain's
eyes without shrinking.
"Don't be so foolish, Drew," whispered Frank.
"I shall do as I think best," was the reply. "You are at liberty to do
the same, sir."
"Very well," said Captain Murray, interrupting them. "Perhaps you will
be more sensible and manly after a night's rest. I did not expect to
find a lad of your years behaving like a spiteful girl."
Andrew's eyes flashed at him; but the captain paid no heed, and went on:
"I have spoken to the colonel, Frank, and for your father's sake he will
be glad to see you at the mess table this evening. You are free of it
while you are under arrest. I will come for you in half an hour. By
the way, I have told my man to come to you for instructions about
getting your kit from your room. You will use him while you are a
prisoner."
"Oh, thank you, Captain Murray," cried the boy eagerly.
"Pray make use of my servant, Mr Forbes, and order him to fetch what
you require."
Andrew bowed coldly, and the captain left the room, his servant tapping
at the door directly after, and entering to receive his orders from
Frank.
"Now, Drew," he said at last, "tell him what to fetch for you."
"I do not require anything," said the youth coldly. "Yes, look here.
There is a little desk on the table in my room; bring me that."
"Hadn't you better give in, and make the best of things?" said Frank, as
soon as they were alone.
"Had you not better leave me to myself, Frank Gowan?" said Andrew
coldly. "We are no longer friends, but enemies."
"No, we can't be that," cried Frank. "Come; once more, shake hands."
Andrew looked at him for a few moments fixedly, and then said slowly:
"Come, that's better."
"On the day when your King George is humbled to the dust, and you are,
with all here, a helpless prisoner. I'll shake hands and forgive you
then."
"Not till then?" cried Frank, flushing.
"Not till then."
"Which means that we are never to be friends again, Drew. Nonsense!
You are still angry. Captain Murray is right."
"That I speak like a spiteful girl!" cried the lad sharply.
"No, I did not mean that," said Frank quietly; "but if I had meant it, I
should not have been very far from right. I hope that you will think
differently after a night's rest. Come, think differently now, and give
up all those mad thoughts which have done nothing but make us fall out.
It isn't too late. Captain Murray is trying to make things pleasant for
us; tell him when he comes that you'll dine with him."
Andrew made an angry gesture, and Frank shrugged his shoulders, went
into the adjoining room to wash his hands, and came back just as the
tramp of soldiers was heard outside, the order was given for them to
halt, and then followed their heavy footsteps on the stairs.
The next minute Captain Murray entered the room.
"Ready, bloodthirsty prisoner?" he said, smiling.
"Yes, sir, quite," replied Frank; while Andrew sat at the other end of
the room with his back to them.
Frank glanced in his fellow-prisoner's direction, and then turned back
to the captain, and his lips moved quickly as he made a gesture in
Andrew's direction.
The captain read his meaning, nodded, walked up to the lad, and touched
him on the shoulder, making him start to his feet.
"Life's very short, Andrew Forbes," he said quietly, "and soldiers are
obliged to look upon it as shorter for them than for other men. It
isn't long enough to nurse quarrels or bear malice. I think I have
heard you say that you hope to be a soldier some day."
"Yes, I do," said the lad, with a meaning which the captain could not
grasp.
"Very well, then; act now like a frank soldier to another who says to
you, try and forget this trouble, and help every one to make it easier
for you. There's care enough coming, my lad; and I may tell you that
the Prince has enough to think about without troubling himself any more
over the mad prank of two high-spirited boys. There, I'll wait for you;
go into my room, and wash your hands and smooth your face. I venture to
say that you will both get a wigging to-morrow, and then be told to go
back to your duties."
Andrew did not budge, and the captain's face grew more stern.
"Come on, Drew," cried Frank; but the lad turned away.
"Yes, come along," cried the captain; "a good dinner will do you both
good, and make you ready to laugh at your morning's quarrel. Do you
hear?"
There was no reply.
"You are not acting like a hero, my lad," said the captain, smiling once
more.
Still there was no reply.
"Very well, sir; you refuse your parole, and I can say no more. I have
my duty to do, and I cannot offer you my hospitality here. You are
still under arrest."
He walked to the door, threw it open, made a sign, and a corporal and
two Guardsmen marched in.
"Take this gentleman to the guardroom," he said. "Your officer has his
instructions concerning him."
"Oh, Drew!" whispered Frank; but the lad drew himself up, and took a few
steps forward, placing himself between the Guards, and kept step with
them as they marched out and down the stairs.
The next minute their steps were heard on the paving-stones without, and
Frank darted to the window, to stand gazing out, feeling half choked
with sorrow for his friend.
A touch on the arm made him remember that Captain Murray was waiting.
"It's a pity, Frank," he said; "but I did all I could. He's a bit too
high-spirited, my lad. The best thing for him will be the army; the
discipline would do him good."
Frank longed to speak, but he felt that his lips were sealed.
"Well, we must not let a bit of hot temper spoil our dinner, my lad. By
the way, what news of your father?"
"None, sir," said the boy sadly, though the thought of what Andrew
Forbes had said made him wince.
"Humph!" said Captain Murray, looking at the boy curiously. "There, I
don't want to pump you. Tell him next time you write that there will be
a grand night at the mess when he comes back to his old place. Now,
then, we shall be late."
"Would you mind excusing me, sir?" said Frank.
"Yes, very much. Nonsense! You must be quite hungry by now."
"No: I was; but it's all gone."
"Hah!" said the captain, gripping him by the shoulder; "you're your
father's own boy, Frank. I like that, but I can't have it. You
accepted the invitation, and I want you, my lad. Never mind Andrew
Forbes; he only requires time to cool down. He'll be ready to shake
hands in the morning. Come, or we shall get in disgrace for being
late."
Frank was marched off to the messroom; but he felt as if every mouthful
would choke him, and that he would have given anything to have gone and
shared Andrew Forbes's confinement, even if he had only received hard
words for his pains.