"What is it--an attack?"
"Quick, gentlemen!" cried the colonel; "every man to his quarters."
He had hardly spoken before a bugle rang out; and as Frank was hurried
out with the rest into the courtyard, it was to see, by the dim light of
the clouded moon and the feeble oil lamps, that the guard had turned
out, and the tramp of feet announced that the rest of the men gathered
for the defence of the Palace and its occupants were rapidly hurrying
out of their quarters, to form up in one or other of the yards.
Frank felt that he was out of place; but in his interest and excitement
he followed Captain Murray like his shadow, and in very few minutes knew
that no attack had been made upon the Palace, but that the cause of the
alarm was from within, and his heart sank like lead as the captain said
to him:
"Poor lad! He must be half crazy to do such a thing. Come with me."
Frank followed him, and the next minute they met, coming from the gate
on the Park side, a group of soldiers, marching with fixed bayonets
toward the guardroom, two of the men within bearing a stretcher, on
which lay Andrew Forbes, apparently lifeless. For the lad had been mad
enough to make a dash for his liberty, in spite of knowing what would
follow, the result being that the sentry by the guardroom had challenged
him to stop, and as he ran on fired. This spread the alarm, and the
second sentry toward the gate had followed his comrade's example as he
caught a glimpse of the flying figure, while the third sentry outside
the gate, standing in full readiness, also caught sight of the lad as he
dashed out and was running to reach the trees of the Park.
This shot was either better aimed, or the unfortunate youth literally
leaped into the line of fire, for as the sentry drew trigger, just as
the lad passed between two of the trees, Drew uttered a sharp cry of
agony and fell headlong to the earth.
"Poor lad! poor lad!" muttered Captain Murray; and he made a sign to the
soldiers not to interfere, as Frank pressed forward to catch his
friend's hand. Then aloud, "Where is the doctor?"
"Here, of course," said that gentleman sharply from just behind them.
"Always am where I'm wanted, eh? Look sharp, and take him to the
guardroom."
"No, no--to my quarters," said Captain Murray quickly. "Tut--tut--tut!
What were they about to let him go?"
In a few minutes the wounded lad was lying on Captain Murray's bed, with
the colonel, Captain Murray, and two or three more of the officers
present, and Frank by the bedside, for when the colonel said to the lad,
"You had better go," the doctor interfered, giving Frank a peculiar cock
of the eye as he said, "No, don't send him away; he can help."
Frank darted a grateful look at the surgeon, and prepared to busy
himself in undressing the sufferer.
"No, no; don't do that now--only worry him. I can see what's wrong, and
get at it."
The position of the injury was plain enough to see from the blood on the
lad's sleeve, and the doctor did not hesitate for a moment; but, taking
out a keen knife from a little case in his pocket, he slit the sleeve
from cuff to shoulder, and then served the deeply stained shirt sleeve
the same.
"Dangerous?" said the colonel anxiously. "Pooh! no," said the doctor
contemptuously. "Nice clean cut. Just as if it had been done with a
knife," as he examined the boy's thin, white left arm. "You ought to
give that sentry a stripe, colonel, for his clever shooting. Hah! yes,
clean cut for two inches, and then buried itself below the skin. Not
enough powder, or it would have gone through instead of stopping in
here. No need for any probing or searching. Here we are."
As he spoke he made a slight cut with his keen knife through the white
skin, where a little lump of a bluish tint could be seen, pressed with
his thumbs on either side, and the bullet came out like a round button
through a button-hole, and rolled on to the bed.
"Better save that for him, Gowan," said the doctor cheerfully. "He'll
like to keep it as a curiosity. Stopped its chance of festering and
worrying him and making him feverish. Now we'll have just a stitch here
and a stitch there, and keep the lips of the wound together."
As he spoke he took a needle and silk from his case, just as if he had
brought them expecting that they would be wanted, took some lint from
one pocket, a roll of bandage from another, and in an incredibly short
time had the wound bound up.
"Likely to be serious?" said Captain Murray.
"What, this, sir? Pooh! not much worse than a cut finger. Smart a bit.
Poor, weak, girlish sort of a fellow; feeble pulse. Good thing he had
fainted, and didn't know what I was doing. Well, squire, how are you?"
Andrew Forbes lay perfectly still, ghastly pale, and with his eyes
closely shut, till the doctor pressed up first one lid and then the
other, frowning slightly the while.
"Can I get anything for you, doctor?" said Captain Murray.
"Eh? Oh no! He'll be all right. Feels sick, and in a bit of pain.
Let him lie there and go to sleep."
"But he is fainting. Oughtn't you to give him something, or to bathe
his face?"
"Look here!" cried the doctor testily, "I don't come interfering and
crying `Fours about,' or `By your right,' or anything of that kind, when
you are at the head of your company, do I?"
"Of course not."
"Then don't you interfere when I'm in command over one of my gang. I've
told you he's all right. I ought to know."
"Oh yes; let the doctor alone, Murray," said the colonel. "There, I'm
heartily glad that matters are no worse. Foolish fellow to attempt such
a wild trick. You will want a nurse for him, doctor."
"Nurse! for that? Pooh! nonsense! I'm very glad he was so considerate
as not to disturb me over my dinner. I shouldn't have liked that,
Squire Gowan. Didn't do it out of spite because he was not asked to
dinner, did he?"
"Pish! no; he was asked," said Captain Murray. "Yes; you wanted to say
something, Gowan?"
"Only that I will have a mattress on the floor, sir, and stay with him."
"Not necessary, boy," said the doctor sharply.
"Let him be with his friend, doctor," said Captain Murray.
"Friend, sir? I thought they were deadly enemies, trying hard to give
me a job this morning to fit their pieces together again. I don't want
to stop him from spoiling his night's rest if he likes; but if he stays,
won't they begin barking and biting again?"
"Not much fear of that--eh, Frank? There, stay with your friend. I'm
in hopes that you will do him more good than the doctor."
"Oh, very well," said that gentleman.
"Then you don't think there is anything to be alarmed about?" said Frank
anxiously.
"Pooh! no; not a bit more than if you had cut your finger with a sharp
knife. Now, if the bullet had gone in there, or there, or there, or
into his thick young head," said the doctor, making pokes at the lad's
body as he lay on the bed, "we should have some excuse for being
anxious; but a boy who has had his arm scratched by a bullet! The idea
is absurd. I say, colonel, are boys of any good whatever in the world?"
"Oh yes, some of them," said the colonel, smiling and giving Frank a
kindly nod. "Good night, my lad. There will be no need for you to sit
up, I think."
"Not a bit, Gowan," said the doctor quietly. "Don't fidget, boy. He'll
be all right."
Frank looked at him dubiously.
"I mean it, my lad," he said, in quite a different tone of voice. "You
may trust me. Good night."
He shook hands warmly with the boy, and all but Captain Murray left the
chamber, talking about the scare that the shots had created in the
Palace.
"I hear they thought the Pretender had dropped in," said the doctor
jocosely. Then the door was shut, and the sound cut off.
"I'll leave you now, Frank, my lad," said Captain Murray. "Take one of
the pillows, and lie down in the next room on the couch. There's an
extra blanket at the foot of the bed. I will speak to my servant to be
on the alert, and to come if you ring. Don't scruple to do so, if you
think there is the slightest need, and he will fetch the doctor at once.
You will lie down?"
"If you think I may," said Frank, as he walked with him to the door of
the sitting-room, beyond earshot of the occupant of the bed.
"I am sure you may, my boy. The doctor only confirmed my own
impression, and I feel sure he would know at a glance."
"But Drew seems quite insensible, sir."
"Yes--seems," said Captain Murray. "There, trust the doctor. I do
implicitly. I think he proved his knowledge in the way he saved Baron
Steinberg's life. Good night. You will have to be locked in; but the
sentry will have the key, and you can communicate with him as well as
ring, so you need not feel lonely. There, once more, good night."
The captain passed out, and Frank caught sight of a tall sentinel on the
landing before the door was closed and locked, the boy standing pale and
thoughtful for some moments, listening to the retiring steps of his
father's old friend, before crossing the room, and entering the chamber,
which looked dim and solemn by the light of the two candles upon the
dressing table. He took up one of these, and went to the bedside, to
stand gazing down at Andrew's drawn face and bandaged arm, his brown
hair lying loose upon the pillow, and making his face look the whiter by
contrast.
"In much pain, Drew?" he said softly; but there was no reply.
"Can I do anything for you?"
Still no reply, and the impression gathered strength in the boy's mind
that his companion could hear what he said but felt too bitter to reply.
This idea grew so strong, that at last he said gently:
"Don't be angry with me, Drew. It is very sad and unfortunate, and I
want to try and help you bear it patiently. Would you like me to do
anything for you? Talk to you--read to you; or would you like me to
write to your father, and tell him of what has happened?"
But, say what he would, Andrew Forbes made no sign, and lay perfectly
still--so still, that in his anxiety Frank stretched out his hand to
touch the boy's forehead and hands, which were of a pleasant
temperature.
"He is too much put out to speak," thought Frank; "and I don't wonder.
He must feel cruelly disappointed at his failure to escape; but I'm glad
he has not got away; for it would have been horrible for him to have
gone and joined the poor foolish enthusiasts who have landed in the
north."
He stood gazing sadly down at the wounded lad for some minutes, and then
softly took the extra pillow and blanket from the bed, carried them to
the little couch in the next room, returned for the candles, and, after
holding them over the patient for a few minutes, he went back quietly to
the sitting-room, placed them on the table, took a book, and sat down to
read.
He sat down to read, but he hardly read a line, for the scenes of the
past twenty-four hours came between his eyes and the print, and at the
end of a quarter of an hour he wearily pushed the book aside, took up
one of the candles, and looked in the chamber to see how Andrew appeared
to be.
Apparently he had not moved; but now, as the boy was going to ask him
again if he could do anything for him, he heard the breath coming and
going as if he were sleeping calmly; and feeling that this was the very
best thing that could happen to him, he went softly back to his seat,
and once more drew the book to his side.
But no; the most interesting work ever written would not have taken his
attention, and he sat listening for the breathing in the next room, then
to the movements of the sentry outside as he moved from time to time,
changing feet, or taking a step or two up and down as far as the size of
the landing would allow. Then came a weary yawn, and the clock chimed
and struck twelve, while, before it had finished, the sounds of other
clocks striking became mingled with it, and Frank listened to the
strange jangle, one which he might have heard hundreds of times, but
which had never impressed him so before.
At last silence, broken only by the pacings of other sentries; and once
more came from the landing a weary yawn, which was infectious, for in
spite of his troubles Frank yawned too, and felt startled.
"I can't be sleepy," he said to himself; "who could at such a time?"
And to prove to himself that such a thing was impossible, and show his
thorough wakefulness, he rose, and once more walked into the chamber,
looked at the wounded lad, apparently sleeping calmly, and returned to
his seat to read.
And now it suddenly dawned upon him that, in spite of his desire to be
thoroughly wakeful, nature was showing him that he could not go through
all the past excitement without feeling the effects, for, as he bent
firmly over his book to read, he found himself suddenly reading
something else--some strange, confused matter about the house in Queen
Anne Street, and the broken door.
Then he started up perfectly wakeful, after nodding so low that his face
touched the book.
"How absurd!" he muttered; and he rose and walked up and down the room.
The sentry heard him, and began to pace the landing.
Frank returned to his seat, looked at the book, and went off instantly
fast asleep, and almost immediately woke up again with a start.
"Oh, this won't do," he muttered. "I can't--I won't sleep."
The next minute he was fast, but again he woke up with a start.
"It's of no use," he muttered; "I must give way to it for a few minutes.
I'll lie down, and perhaps that will take it off, and I shall be quite
right for the rest of the night."
Very unwillingly, but of necessity, for he felt that he was almost
asleep as he moved about, he rose, took up the blanket from the couch,
threw it round him like a cloak, punched up the pillow, and lay down.
"There!" he said to himself; "that's it. I don't feel so sleepy this
way; it's resting oneself by lying down. I believe I could read now,
and know what I am reading. How ridiculous it makes one feel to be so
horribly sleepy! Some people, they say, can lie down and determine to
wake up in an hour, or two hours, or just when they like. Well, I'd do
that--I mean I'd try to do that--if I were going to sleep; but I won't
sleep. I'll lie here resting for a bit, and then get up again, and go
and see how Drew is. It would be brutal to go off soundly, with him
lying in that state. How quiet it all seems when one is lying down!
It's as if one could hear better. Yes, I can hear Drew breathing quite
plain; and how that sentry does keep on yawning! Sentries must get very
sleepy sometimes when on duty in the night, and it's a terribly severe
punishment for one who does sleep at his post. Well, I'm a sentry at my
post to watch over poor Drew, and I should deserve to be very severely
punished if I slept; not that I should be punished, except by my own
conscience."
He lay perfectly wakeful now, looking at the candles, which both wanted
snuffing badly, and making up his mind to snuff them; but he began
thinking of his father, then wondering once more where he could be, and
feeling proud of the way in which the officers talked about him.
"If the King would only pardon him!" he thought, "how--I must get up and
snuff those candles; if I don't, that great black, mushroom-like bit of
burnt wick will be tumbling off and burning in the grease, and be what
they call a thief in the candle. How it does grow bigger and bigger!"
And it did grow bigger and bigger, and fell into the tiny cup of molten
grease--for in those days the King's officers were not supplied with wax
candles for their rooms--and it did form a thief, and made the candle
gutter down, while the other slowly burned away into the socket, and
made a very unpleasant odour in the room, as first one and then the
other rose and fell with a wanton-looking, dancing flame, which finally
dropped down and rose no more, sending up a tiny column of smoke
instead.
Then the sentry was relieved, and so was Frank, for, utterly worn out,
he was sleeping heavily, with nature hard at work repairing the waste of
the day, and so soundly that he did not know of the reverse of
circumstances, and that Andrew Forbes had risen to enter the outer room,
and look in, even coming close to his side, as if to see why it was he
did not keep watch over him and come and see him from time to time.
History perhaps was repeating itself: the mountain would not go to
Mahomet, so Mahomet had to go to the mountain.