In Honour's Cause Part 7

"Did you see your friend you wanted to speak to?" said Frank, as they reached the river-side.

"See him? Yes, fighting like a hero; but I couldn't get near him.

Never mind; another time will do. I little thought I should come to the city to-day to see such a victory. It all shows how things are working."

"Going to ride back by boat?" said Frank, as if to change the conversation.

"Oh yes; we can't go along Fleet Street and the Strand. The streets will be full of constables, and soldiers out too I dare say. They're busy making arrests I know; and if we were to go along there, as likely as not there'd be some spy or one of the beaten side ready to point us out as having been in it."

They reached the stairs, took their place in a wherry, and as they leaned back and the waterman tugged at his oars, against tide now, Frank said thoughtfully:

"I say, what would have happened if somebody had pointed us out?"

"We should have been locked up of course, and been taken before the magistrate to-morrow. Then it would all have come out about our being there, and--ha--ha--ha!--the Prince would have had vacancies for two more pages.--I shouldn't have cared."

"I should," said Frank quickly, as he saw in imagination the pained faces of father and mother.

"Well, of course, so should I. Don't take any notice of what I said.

Besides, we can be so useful as we are."

"How?" said Frank thoughtfully. "It always seems to me that we are but a couple of ornaments, and of no use at all."

"Ah! wait," said Andrew quietly. Then, as if feeling that he had been in his excitement letting his tongue run far too fast, he turned to his companion, and said gently:

"You are the son of a gallant officer and a beautiful lady, and I know you would not say a word that would injure a friend."

"I hope not," said Frank, rather huskily.

"I'm sure you would not, or I should not have spoken out as I have. But don't take any notice; you see, a man can't help talking politics at a time like this. Well, when will you come to the city again?"

"Never, if I can help it," said Frank shortly; and that night in bed he lay sleepless for hours, thinking of his companion's words, and grasping pretty clearly that King George the First had a personage in his palace who was utterly unworthy of trust.

"And it's such a pity," said the boy, with a sigh. "I like Andrew Forbes, though he is a bit conceited and a dandy; but it seems as if I ought to speak to somebody about what I know. My father--my mother?

There is no one else I should like to trust with such a secret. But he has left it to my honour, and I feel pulled both ways. What ought I to do?"

He fell asleep at last with that question unanswered, and when he awoke the next morning the thought repeated itself with stronger force than before, "Why, he must be at heart a traitor to the King!" and once more in dire perplexity Frank Gowan asked himself that question, "What shall I do?"

CHAPTER FIVE.

THE OFFICER OF THE GUARDS.

It would not take much guessing to arrive at the course taken by Frank Gowan. He cudgelled his brains well, being in a kind of mental balance, which one day went down in favour of making a clean breast of all he knew to his mother; the next day up went that side, for he felt quite indignant with himself.

Here, he argued, was he, Frank Gowan, freshly appointed one of the Prince's pages, a most honourable position for a youth of his years, and with splendid prospects before him, cut off from his old school friendships, and enjoying a new one with a handsome, well-born lad, whom, in spite of many little failings at which he laughed, he thoroughly admired for his dash, courage, and knowledge of the world embraced by the court. This lad had completely taken him under his wing, made him proud by the preference he showed for his companionship, and ready to display his warm admiration for his new friend by making him the confidant of his secret desires; and what was he, the trusted friend, about to do? Play traitor, and betray his confidence. But, then, was not Andrew Forbes seeking to play traitor to the King?

"That's only talk and vanity," said the boy to himself. "He has done nothing traitorous; but if I go and talk to any one, I shall have done something--something cruelly treacherous, which must end in the poor fellow being sent away from the court in disgrace, perhaps to a severe punishment."

He turned cold at the thought.

"They hang or behead people for high treason," he thought; "and suppose Drew were to be punished like that, how should I feel afterward? I should never forgive myself. Besides, how could I go and worry my mother about such a business as this? It is not women's work, and it would only make her unhappy."

But he felt that he might go to his father, and confide the matter to him, asking him on his honour not to do anything likely to injure Drew.

But he could not go and confide in his father, who was generally with his regiment, and they only met on rare occasions. By chance he caught sight of him on duty at the Palace with the guard, but he could not speak to him then. At other times he was at his barrack quarters, and rarely at his town house across the Park in Queen Anne Street. This place was generally only occupied by the servants, Lady Gowan having apartments in the Palace.

Hence Frank felt that it would be very difficult to see his father and confide in him, and he grew more at ease in consequence. It was the way out of a difficulty most dear to many of us--to wit, letting things drift to settle themselves.

And so matters went on for some days. Frank had been constantly in company with Andrew Forbes, and his admiration for the handsome lad grew into a hearty friendship, which was as warmly returned.

"He can't help knowing he is good-looking," thought Frank, "and that makes him a bit conceited; but it will soon wear off. I shall joke him out of it. And he knows so much. He is so manly. He makes me feel like an awkward schoolboy beside him."

Frank knitted his brow a little over these thoughts, but he brightened up with a laugh directly.

"I think I could startle him, though," he said half aloud, "if I had him down at Winchester."

It was one bright morning at the Palace, where he was standing at the anteroom window just after the regular morning military display, and he had hardly thought this when a couple of hands were pa.s.sed over his eyes, and he was held fast.

"I know who it is," he said, "though you don't think it. It's you, Drew."

"How did you know?" said that individual merrily.

"Because you have hands like a girl's, and no lady here would have done it."

"Bah! hands like a girl's indeed! I shall have to lick you into a better shape, bear. You grow too insolent."

"Very well; why don't you begin?" said Frank merrily.

"Because I don't choose. Look here, young one; I want you to come out with me for a bit this afternoon."

"No, thank you," replied the boy, shaking his head. "I don't want to go and see mad politicians quarrel and fight in the city, and get nearly squeezed to death."

"Who wants you to? It's only to go for a walk."

"That was going for a walk."

"Afraid of getting your long hair taken out of curl?" said Andrew banteringly.

"No; that would curl up again; but I don't want to have my clothes torn off my back."

"You won't get them torn off this afternoon. I want you to come in the Park there, down by the water-side. You'll like that, savage."

"Yes, of course. Can we fish?"

"No, that wouldn't do; but I tell you what: you can take some bread with you and feed the ducks."

"Take some bread with me and feed the ducks!" cried the boy contemptuously.

"Well, that's what I'm going to do. Then you won't come?"