"Oh, my boy!" cried Lady Gowan, "how long you have been without coming
to me."
Frank looked at her in surprise, as she rose from the couch on which she
had been lying--dressed.
"Yes, yes, dear, I feel stronger now. Have you any news? Where have
you been?"
"Home," said Frank, watching her intently. "I have seen Drew Forbes."
"Yes, yes; has he any news?"
"He has seen his father, and says that you are not to lose hope."
"All words, words!" sighed Lady Gowan, wringing her hands.
"And that it is your duty to go and see my father in prison."
"As if we needed to be told that," cried Lady Gowan scornfully. "I am
going to him directly I can get permission."
"You are?" cried Frank excitedly.
"Of course. The Princess has been here to see me, and she has promised
that if I am well enough I shall have an order to see your father in his
prison to-morrow."
"Oh!" cried Frank excitedly, "that is good news. I had come to beg you
to appeal to the Princess. Mother dearest, the Forbeses are our
friends, but you must not speak about them to a soul."
"I, my boy?" cried Lady Gowan, clinging to him, and speaking
passionately; "I can speak of no one--think of no one but your father
now."
"But you must, mother. It is important. They have promised to help my
father to escape."
"Frank!--no, no; it is impossible. Oh, my dear boy, you must not join
in any plot. You must not--yes, yes, it is your duty to try and save
his life, come what may," cried Lady Gowan.
"Hush, mother! Pray be calm," whispered Frank. "Now listen. You will
not be asked to do anything but this."
"Yes, yes. What, dear?" she said, in a sharp whisper. "No: wait a
moment."
She made an effort to regain her composure, and at last succeeded.
"Don't think ill of me, my boy," she said. "I wished to be--I have
tried to be--loyal to those who have been our truest friends; but your
father's life is at stake, and I can only think now of saving him.
Speak out--tell me what they wish."
"I hardly know, mother; but they only ask this: that you convey an
important message from Andrew's father to mine."
"Is that all?" sighed Lady Gowan.
"You must drive over to our house when you leave here to-morrow; go in,
and you will find Drew waiting there."
"Drew Forbes waiting at our house?" said Lady Gowan in astonishment.
"Yes; he will have the message from his father for you to bear, and you
must not fail, for it may mean the ruining of his hopes."
"I--I do not understand, my dear," sighed Lady Gowan; "but I will do
anything now. I would die that I might save his life."
"But will you be able to go, mother? You are so weak."
"The thought that I shall see him and bear him news that may save his
life will give me strength, Frank. Yes, I will go."
Frank felt astonished at the change which had come over her, and sat
answering her questions about his proceedings on the previous night,
for, in her thirst to know everything, she made him repeat himself again
and again; but he could not help noticing that all the while she was
keenly on the alert, listening to every sound, and at last starting up
as her attendant entered the room with a letter.
"Hah!" she cried, snatching it from the woman's hands.
"And the nurse says, my lady, may she come in now?"
"No, no; I cannot see her. Go!" cried Lady Gowan imperiously; and she
tore open the letter, as the woman left the room. "Hah! See, see,
Frank! It is an order signed by the King himself. With the Princess's
dear love and condolence. Heaven bless her! But oh! Look!"
Frank took the order and read it quickly.
It was for Lady Gowan, alone and unattended, to be admitted to the
prisoner's cell for one hour only on the following day.
"I must write and appeal again, my boy. You must be with me."
"No, mother," said Frank sadly. "I was with my father last night. This
visit should be for you alone."
She looked at him half resentfully, and then drew him to her breast.
Before he left her he once more drew from her the promise that she would
fulfil the instructions he gave her, and call in Queen Anne Street, go
up, see Drew Forbes, and take the message from his father.
"I don't understand it," said the lad to himself, as he left his
mother's apartments; "but it must mean something respecting my father's
prospects of escape--some instructions perhaps. Oh, everything must
give way now to saving his life."
Then thinking and thinking till his brain began to swim, he went to his
own room, feeling utterly exhausted, but unable to find rest.
In the morning he ran round, and found that the doctor was with his
mother; and as the great physician came out he shook hands with the lad.
"Yes?" he said smiling; "you wish to know whether I think Lady Gowan
will be able to go and pay that visit this afternoon? Most certainly.
Her illness is principally from anxiety, and I have no hesitation in
saying that she would be worse if I forbade her leaving her apartments.
I will be here to see her in the evening after her return."
Frank entered his mother's room to find her wonderfully calm, but there
was a peculiarly wild look of excitement in her eyes; and as the lad
gazed inquiringly at her, she said softly:
"Have no fear, dear. I shall be strong enough to bear it. You will
come, and see me start! The carriage will be here at two."
"And you will go round home first?" said Frank softly.
"Yes," she cried, with the excited look in her eyes seeming to grow more
intense. "But, my boy, my boy, if I could only have you with me! Frank
dear, we must save him. But do you think that these people can and will
help him?"
"I feel sure, mother," replied Frank. "Take the message Drew brings to
you, and see what my father says."
"Yes," she said thoughtfully. "I feel that they will help, for these
people are staunch to each other. They helped the Pretender to escape."
"It was not the Pretender, mother," whispered Frank; "it was Drew's
father. And he has vowed that he will not leave England and seek safety
until my father is safe."
"Then Heaven bless him!" cried Lady Gowan, passionately. "I had my
doubts as to whether it would be wise to bear his message to your
father, but I am contented now. Leave me, my dearest boy. I want
strength to bear the interview this afternoon, and the doctor told me
that, unless I rested till the last moment, I should not have enough to
carry me through. But you will be here?"
"I will be here," he said tenderly; and once more they parted, Frank
going across to Captain Murray, and telling him of his mother's visit.
"It is too much for her to bear," he said sadly. "Surely she has not
the strength!"
"You don't know my mother's determination," said the boy proudly. "Oh
yes, she will go."
"Heaven give her the fortitude to bear the shock!" muttered the captain.
"Can I do anything--see her there?" he asked.
"No, no," said Frank hastily. "She must go alone. The carriage will
take her and wait. But you; how is the side?"
"Oh, I have no time to think about a little pain, my boy. Frank, we are
all trying what we can do by a petition to his Majesty. The colonel
will present it when it is ready. He must--he shall show mercy this
time; so cheer up, boy. No man in the army has so many friends as your
father, and the King will see this by the names attached to our prayer."
But these words gave little encouragement, and Frank felt that in his
heart he had more faith in some bold attempt made by his father's
friends. He thought, moreover, from Drew's manner, that there must be
something more in progress than he divined, and going back to his
duties--which he did or left undone without question now--he waited
impatiently for the afternoon.
But never had the hours dragged along so slowly, and it seemed a
complete day when, at a few minutes before two, he went round to his
mother's apartments, and found one of the private carriages with the
servants in plain liveries waiting at the door.
On ascending to his mother's room, he found her seated there, dressed
almost wholly in black, and with a thick veil held in her hand. She was
very pale and stern; but her face lit up as the boy crossed to her, and
took her cold, damp hands in his.
"There," she said tenderly, "you see how calm I am."
"Yes; but if I could only go with you, mother!" he said.
"Yes; if you could only go with me, my boy! But it is impossible. No,
not impossible, for you will be with me in spirit all the time. I take
your love to your father--and--ah!"
Her eyes closed, and she seemed on the point of fainting, but,
struggling desperately against the weakness, she mastered it and rose.
"Take me down to the carriage, Frank," she said firmly. "It is the
waiting which makes me weak. Once in action, I shall go on to the end.
You will be here to meet me on my return? It will be more than two
hours--perhaps three. There, you see I am firm now."
He could not speak, and he felt her press heavily upon his arm, as he
led her downstairs and handed her into the carriage.
Then for the first time a thought struck him.
"Mother," he whispered, as he leaned forward into the carriage. "You
ought not to go alone. Some lady--"
"Hush! Not a word to weaken me now. I ought to go alone," she said
firmly. "I could not take another there. I could not bear her presence
with me. It is better so. Tell the men to drive to Queen Anne Street
first."
The door was closed sharply, he gave the servants their instructions,
and then stood watching the carriage as it crossed the courtyard. But
as it disappeared he felt that the excitement was more than he could
bear, and, in place of going back to the Prince's antechamber, he
hurried out into the Park, to try and cool his heated brain.