In Honour's Cause Part 11

"Er--er--it is strange what a little news there is stirring nowadays,"

he said, huskily.

"Yes, very, is it not?" replied their new companion; "but I should have thought that you gentlemen, living as you do in the very centre of London life, would have had plenty to amuse you."

"Oh no," said Andrew, with a forced laugh. "Ours is a terrible humdrum life at the Palace, so bad that Gowan there is always wanting to go out into the country to find sport, and as he cannot and I cannot, we are glad to come out here and feed the ducks."

"Well," said the stranger gravely, jerking out a fresh piece of biscuit, "it is a nice, calm, and agreeable diversion. I like to come here for the purpose on Wednesday and Friday afternoons about this time. It is harmless, Forbes."

"Very," said the youth, with another glance at Frank; but he was breaking a piece of crust for another throw, and another meaning look pa.s.sed between the two, Forbes seeming to question the stranger with his eyes, and to receive for answer an almost imperceptible nod.

"Yes, I like feeding the ducks," said Selby. "One acquires a good deal of natural history knowledge thereby, and also enjoys the pleasure of making new and pleasant friends."

This was directed at Frank, who felt uncomfortable, and made another bow, it being the proper thing to do, as his new acquaintance--he did not mentally call him friend--dropped a piece of biscuit, to be seized by a very fat duck, which had found racing a failure, and succeeded best by coming out of the water, to snap up the fragments which dropped at the distributors' feet.

As the piece of biscuit fell, the stranger formally and in a very French fashion raised his c.o.c.ked hat again.

"And so you find the court life dull, Mr Gowan," he said.

"Yes," said the boy, colouring. "You see, I have not long left Winchester and my school friends. Miss the ga--sports; but Andrew Forbes has been very friendly to me," he added heartily.

"Of course you feel dull coming among strangers; but never fear, Mr Gowan, you will have many and valuable friends I hope, your humble servant among the number. It must be dull, though, at this court. Now at Saint--"

"That's my last piece of bread, Selby," said Andrew hastily. "Give me a bit of biscuit."

"Certainly, if I have one left," was the smiling reply, with another almost imperceptible nod. "Yes, here is the last. Of course you must find it dull, and we have not seen you lately at the club, my dear fellow. By the way, why not bring Mr Gowan with you next time?"

"Oh, he would hardly care to come. He does not care for politics, eh, Frank?"

"I don't understand them," said the boy quietly.

"You soon will now you are resident in town, Mr Gowan; and I hope you will favour us by accompanying your friend Forbes. Only a little gathering of gentlemen, young, clever, and I hope enthusiastic. You will come?"

"I--that is--"

"Say yes, Frank, and don't be so precious modest. He will bring up a bit of country now and then. But he is fast growing into a man of town."

"What nonsense, Drew!" cried the boy quickly.

"Yes, what nonsense!" said the new acquaintance, smiling. "Believe me, Mr Gowan, we do not talk of town at our little social club. I shall look forward to seeing you there as my guest. What do you say to Monday?"

"I say yes for both of us," said Andrew quickly.

"I am very glad. There, my last biscuit has gone, so till Monday evening I will say good-bye--_au revoir_."

"Stick to the English, Selby," said Andrew sharply. "French is not fashionable at Saint James's."

"You are quite right, my dear Forbes. Good-bye, Mr Gowan. It is a pleasure to shake your father's son by the hand. Till Monday then, my dear Forbes;" and with a more courtly bow than ever, the gentleman stalked slowly away, with one hand raising a laced handkerchief to his face, the other resting upon his sword hilt.

"Glad we met him," said Andrew quickly, and he looked unusually excited.

"One of the best of men. You will like him, Frank."

"But you should not have been so ready to accept a stranger's invitation for me."

"Pooh! he isn't a stranger. He'll be grateful to you for going. Big family the Selbys, and he'll be very rich some day. Wonderful how fond he is, though, of feeding the ducks."

"Yes, he seems to be," said Frank; and he accompanied his companion as the latter strolled on now along the bank after finishing the distribution of bread to the feathered fowl by sending nearly a whole biscuit skimming and making ducks and drakes on the surface of the water; but the living ducks and drakes soon ended that performance and followed the pair in vain. For Andrew Forbes had suddenly become very thoughtful; while his companion also had his fit of musing, which ended in his saying to himself:

"I wish I was as clever as they are. It almost seemed as if they meant something more than they said. It comes from living in London I suppose, and perhaps some day I shall get to be as sharp and quick as they are. Perhaps, though, it is all nonsense, and they meant nothing.

But I wish Drew had not said we'd go. I'm not a man, and what do I want at a club? I don't know anything that they'd want to know, living as I do shut up in the Palace." But there Frank Gowan was wrong, for what went on at Saint James's Palace in the early days of the eighteenth century was of a great deal of interest to some people outside, and he never forgot the feeding of the ducks.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

HOW FRANK GOWAN GREW ONE YEAR OLDER IN ONE DAY.

"I Seem to have so many things to worry me," thought Frank. "Any one would think that in a place like this without lessons or studies there would be no unpleasantries; but as soon as I've got the better of one, another comes to worry me."

This was in consequence of the invitation for the following Monday. His mind was pretty well at ease about his confidential talk with his father; but he was nervous and uncomfortable about the visit to the club, and several times over he was on the point of getting leave to go across to Sir Robert to ask his opinion as to whether he ought to go.

"I can't go and bother my mother about such a thing as that," he mused.

"I ought to be old enough now to be able to decide which is right and which is wrong. Drew thinks and talks like a man, while it seems to me that I'm almost a child compared to him.

"Well, let's try. Ought I to go, or ought I not? There can't be any harm to me in going. There may be some friends of Drew's whom I shan't like; but if there are I needn't go again. It's childish, when I want to become more manly, to shrink from going into society, like a great girl.--I'll go. If there's any harm in it, the harm is likely to be to Drew, and--yes, of course; I could save him from getting into trouble.

"Then I ought to go," he said to himself decisively, and he felt at ease, troubling himself little more about the matter, but going through his extremely easy duties of waiting in the anteroom, bearing letters and messages from one part of the Palace to the other, and generally looking courtly as a royal page.

Then the Monday came, with Andrew Forbes in the highest of spirits, and ready to chat about the country, his friend's life at Winchester, and to make plans for running down to see them when his father and mother went out of town.

"I don't believe you'd like it if you did come," said Frank.

"Oh yes, I should. Why not?"

"Because you'd find some of the lanes muddy, and the edges of the roads full of brambles. You wouldn't care to see the bird's and squirrels and hedgehogs, nor the fish in the river, nor the rabbits and hares."

"Why, those are all things that I am dying to see in their natural places. I wish you would not think I am such a macaroni. Why, after the way in which you have gone on about the country, isn't it natural that I should want to see more of it?"

He kept on in this strain to such an extent that, instead of convincing his companion, he overdid it, and set him wondering.

"I don't understand him a bit," he said to himself; "and I wish he wouldn't keep on calling me my dear fellow and slapping me on the back.

I never saw him so wild and excitable before."

The lad's musings were interrupted to his great disgust by Andrew coming behind him with the very act and words which had annoyed him. For he started and turned angrily upon receiving a sounding slap between the shoulders.

"Why, Frank, my dear fellow," cried Andrew, "what ails you? Hallo! eyes flashing lightning and brow heavy with thunder. Has the gentle, shepherd-like swain from the country got a temper of his own?"

"Of course I have," cried the boy angrily. "Why don't you let it lie quiet, and not wake it up by doing that!"