In Honour's Cause: A Tale of the Days of George the First by George Manville Fenn
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.
MORE ABOUT THE DUCKS.
The news was all over the Palace the next morning; but before meetingAndrew Forbes, Frank hurried to his mother's apartments, to find herdressed, but lying down, her maid saying that she was very ill, but thatshe would see Mr Gowan.
"I thought you would come, my boy," said Lady Gowan, embracing him."Oh, my darling, what a horrible night! Tell me again all about yourfather's escape."
"You're not well enough, mother," said the boy bluntly. "It will onlyagitate you more. Isn't it enough that I helped him to get safe awaywithout any accident?"
"Yes, yes, you are right," said Lady Gowan. "But how rash, how mad ofhim to come! Frank, remember that you must not breathe a word about howit was that I was able to warn him."
"I see," said Frank; "it would make mischief."
"And this has undone all that I was trying to do. He might have beenforgiven in time; now we shall have to wait perhaps for years."
"Then don't let's wait, mother. He says that we should have to sufferterribly if we shared his lot with him. But who cares? I shouldn't abit, and I'm sure you wouldn't mind."
"I, my boy?" cried Lady Gowan passionately. "I'd gladly lead thehumblest life with him, so that we could be at peace."
"Very well, then; let's go."
Lady Gowan shook her head.
"We must respect your father's wishes, Frank," she said sadly. "No; wemust stay as we are till we are ordered to leave here, or your fatherbids us come."
"There," said the boy, "I was right. You must not talk about it anymore; it only makes you cry. Never mind what happened last night. Hehas got safely away."
"But if he should venture again, my boy," sobbed Lady Gowan.
"Never mind about _ifs_, mother. Of course he longed to see us, and heran the risk, so as to be near. I should have done the same, if I hadbeen like he is. There, now you lie still and read all day. He won'trun any more risks, so as not to frighten you. I must go now."
Lady Gowan clung to her son for a few minutes, and then he hurried away,to find Andrew Forbes in the courtyard.
"Ah, I was right!" he said. "I went to your rooms, thinking I shouldcatch you; but you were up and off. I thought this would be where youhad come. But, I say, I thought we were friends."
"Well, so we are."
"Don't seem like it, for you to go and have a jolly night of adventureslike that, and leave me out in the cold."
"I couldn't help it, Drew," said Frank apologetically.
"Yes, you could. I smell a rat now. I thought you turned very queerwhen we were by your house yesterday. Then you saw him at one of thewindows?"
Frank looked at him frowningly, and then nodded his head.
"And never told me! Well, this is being a friend! I would have trustedyou. But, I say, it was grand. I've just seen Captain Murray and thedoctor. They were together in the captain's room. They wouldn't sayso, of course, but they were delighted to hear he got away, though theysay they wouldn't wonder if you were dismissed."
"I don't care, if my mother has to leave too."
"Ah! but the Princess wouldn't let her go. I say, how do you feel now?"
"Very miserable," said Frank sadly.
"Nonsense! You mean not so precious loyal as you were."
"If you are going to begin about that business again, I am going," saidFrank coldly.
"I've done. I'm satisfied. You'll be as eager on the other side someday, Frank; and I like you all the better for being so staunch as youare. As my father says, it makes you the better worth winning."
"When did your father say that?" cried Frank sharply.
"Never mind. Perhaps he wrote it to me. You can't expect me to bequite open with you if you're not with me. But, I say," cried the ladenthusiastically, "it's grand!"
"What is?"
"For us to be both with our fathers banished. Why, Frank, it's likemaking heroes of us."
"Making geese of us! What nonsense!"
"Just as you like; but I shall feel what I please. I never did see sucha fellow as you are, though. You have no more romance in you than a bigdrum. But, I say, tell us all about it."
With a little pressing Frank told him all, the narrative being given, inan undertone, and after a faithful promise of secrecy, on one of thebenches under a tree in the Park, while Andrew sat with his fingersinterlaced and nipped between his knees, flushed of face, his eyesflashing, and his teeth set.
"Oh," he cried at last, "I wish I had been there, and it had come to afight."
"What good would that have done?" said Frank.
"Oh, I don't know; but what a night! It was glorious! And to thinkthat all the while I was moping alone over a stupid book, while you wereenjoying yourself like that."
"Enjoying myself!" cried Frank scornfully.
"Yes, enjoying yourself. There, with your sword out, defending yourbeautiful mother from the Guards, after saving your father's life, andkeeping the castle--house, I mean--against the men who were batteringdown the gate--door."
"Well," said Frank drily, "if I have no more romance in me than there isin a big drum, you have."
"I should think I have!" cried the lad, whose handsome, effeminate facewas scarlet with his excitement. "Why, you cold-blooded, stony-heartedold countryman, can't you see that you were doing man's work, and havingglorious adventures?"
"No; only that it was very horrible," said Frank, with his brow all inlines.
"Bah! I don't believe you felt like that. What a chance! What a timeto have! All the luck coming to you, and I'm obliged to lead the lifeof a palace lapdog, when I want to be a soldier fighting for my king."
"Wait till you get older," said Frank. "I wanted to be a man lastnight."
"Why, you were a man. It was splendid!" cried Andrew enthusiastically.
"I wasn't a man, and it wasn't splendid," said Frank sadly. "I felt allright then; but when I woke this morning, I seemed to see myselfstanding there in our drawing-room, with my sword in one hand and thebig silver candlestick in the other, and I felt that I must have lookedvery ridiculous, and that the young officer and the men with him musthave laughed at me."
"Er-r-err!" growled Andrew; "I haven't patience with you, Franky.You're too modest by half--modest as a great girl. No, you're not; nogirl could have behaved like you did. I only wish I had had the chanceto be there. Ridiculous indeed! Very ridiculous to help your father toescape as you did, 'pon my honour. Oh yes, very ridiculous! I want tobe as ridiculous as that every day of my life; and if it isn't playingthe man--"
"Yes, that's it," said Frank gloomily,--"playing the man, when one'sonly a boy."
"Bah! Hold your tongue, stupid. You don't know yet what you did do.But, I say, that was ridiculous, if you like."
"What was?" said Frank, starting.
"Climbing up the roof to hide the rope, and stuffing it down thenext-door chimney. I say: I wonder what the people thought."
Frank smiled now.
"Well, that does seem comic."
"It was glorious. But they'll never know. They'll think the sweepsmust have left it when the chimney was last swept. But I suppose you'veheard about Lieutenant Brayley's report?"
"No, not a word. I went as soon as I was dressed to see how my motherwas."
"Oh, I heard from Murray. He reported that it was a false alarm, andthat Sir Robert could not have been there, for he had the house wellwatched back and front, and all the approaches to the houses adjoining.Oh, I do enjoy getting the better of the other side. And, I say, everyone's delighted that he escaped, if he was there; but I hope he won'tget taken. Tell him to mind, Franky, for every place swarms with spies,and that it's next to impossible to get out of the country. Oh, Iwouldn't have him taken for all the world."
"Thank ye," said Frank warmly; "but how am I to tell him that?"
Andrew turned and gave his companion a peculiar smiling look.
"Of course," he said merrily, "how c
Frank turned white.
"How did you know that?" he said hoarsely.
"Because I'm rowing in the same boat, Franky. Why, of course he did.Now, didn't he?"
The boy nodded.
"So did my father, of course. There, I'm going to thoroughly trust you,if you don't me. I'd trust you with anything, because I can feel thatyou couldn't go wrong. I don't want you to tell me where your fathertold you to write, or what name he is going to take, or how you are toget his letters, for of course he couldn't write to the Palace. But hetold you how to communicate with him, I do know, Frank. It was a matterof course with your father like that. I say, what do you think of a tinbox in a hollow tree in the Park, where you can bury it in the touchwoodwhen you go to feed the ducks?"
"That would be a good way of course," said Frank; "but no, it isn't likethat."
"What, for you and your father? Who said it was? I meant for me andmine."
"What! Feed the ducks! Drew!" cried Frank excitedly.
"Yes; what's the matter?"
"Feed the ducks?"
"Yes, feed the ducks!"
"You don't mean to tell me that--that--"
"Mr George Selby is my father? Of course I do."
"Oh!" ejaculated Frank in astonishment.
"Isn't it fine?" cried Andrew. "He comes and feeds the ducks--hisMajesty King George's ducks--and the precious spies stand and watch him;and sometimes he has a chance to see me, and sometimes he hasn't, andthen he leaves a note for me in the old tree, for he says it's the onlypleasure he has in his solitary exiled life."
"Oh, Drew!" cried Frank warmly.
"Yes, poor old chap. I'm not worth thinking about so much, only Isuppose I'm something like what poor mother was, and he likes it, or hewouldn't leave all his plots and plans for getting poor James Francis onthe throne to come risking arrest. They'd make short work of him,Frank, if they knew--head shorter. I shall tell him I've told you. ButI know what he'll say."
"That you were much to blame," said Frank eagerly.
"Not he. He'll trust you, as I do. He likes you, Frank. He told me heliked you all the better for being so true to your principles, and thathe was very glad to find that I had made friends with you. There, nowyou can tell me as much as you like. Nothing at all, if you thinkproper; but I shall trust you as much as you'll let me, my lad. There,it's time to go in. I want to hear more about what they're doing. Asthey know that your father has been seen, they'll be more strict thanever. But let's go round by your old house."
"No, no," said Frank, with a shudder.
"Better go.--Come, don't shiver like that. You were a man last night;be one now."
"Come along then," said Frank firmly; and they walked sharply round bythe end of the canal, and back along the opposite side towardWestminster, passing several people on the way, early as the hour was.
"Don't seem to notice any one," said Andrew; "and walk carelessly andopenly, just as if you were going--as we are--to look at your old housewhere the adventure was."
"Why?"
"Because several of the people we pass will be spies. I don't want toput you all in a fidget; but neither you nor your mother will be able tostir now without being watched."
"Do you think so?" said Frank, who felt startled.
"Sure of it. There, that's doing just what I told you not to do,opening your mouth like a bumpkin for the flies to jump down yourthroat, and making your eyes look dark all round like two burnt holes ina blanket. Come along. You mustn't mind anything now. I don't: I'mused to it. Let 'em see that you don't care a rush, and that they maywatch you as much as they please. Now don't say anything to me, onlywalk by me, and we'll go by the Park front of your place. I want tohave a quiet stare at the tops of the houses and at the corner whereyour father slipped down the rope."
Frank obeyed his companion, and they walked on, seeing no one inparticular, save an elderly man with a very bad cough, who stopped fromtime to time to rest upon his crutch-handled stick, and indulge in along burst of coughing, interspersing it with a great many "Oh dears!"and groans. They left him behind, as they passed the last tall house,where Frank shuddered as he saw the upright leaden stack, the hole inthe parapet, where the rope was tied, and the garden beneath.
The boy turned hot as he went over the whole adventure again and thoughtthe same thoughts. Then he glanced sharply through the iron railings insearch of footmarks, but saw none, for Andrew uttered a warning "Takecare," and he looked straight before him again as he went out by thePark gate, and turned back and through the streets till they reached thefront of the house, where men were nailing up boards, and a couple ofsoldiers stood on duty, marching up and down, as if some royal personagewere within.
Frank glanced at the workmen, and would have increased his pace, butAndrew had hold of his arm and kept him back.
"Don't hurry," he said quietly; and then lightly to one of the sentries,"Got some prisoners inside, my man?"
The sentry grinned, and gave his head a side wise nod toward Frank.
"Ask this young gentleman, sir; he knows."
Frank flushed scarlet, as he turned sharply to the man, whom he nowrecognised as one of the Guards who entered the drawing-room with theofficer.
"Ah, to be sure," said Andrew coolly; and nodding carelessly, he went onand out by the gate into the Park at the end of the street, where theold man they had previously seen was holding on by the railings coughingviolently.
"Poor old gentleman!" said Andrew sarcastically, but loud enough for himto hear; "he seems to be suffering a good deal from that cough."
The man bent his head lower till his brow rested on the hand which heldon by the railings, and coughed more than ever.
"You needn't have made remarks about him," whispered Frank. "I'm afraidhe heard what you said."
"I meant him to hear," said Andrew loudly; and he stopped and lookedback directly. "A miserable, contemptible impostor. I could cure hiswretched cough in two minutes with that stick he leans on."
The man started as if he had received a blow, and raised his head toglare fiercely at the youth, who was looking him superciliously up anddown.
"Look at him, Frank," continued Andrew; "did you ever see such amiserable, hangdog-looking cur?"
Frank felt in agony, and gripped his companion by the arm.
"Did you mean that to insult me, boy?" said the man angrily.
"Done it without the stick," said Andrew, not appearing to notice theman's words. "You see a good lash from the tongue was enough. Now, canyou imagine it possible that any one could sink so low as to earn hisliving by watching his fellow-creatures, spying their every act, andthen betraying them for the sake of a few dirty shillings, to send themto prison or to the gibbet? There can be nothing on earth so base as athing like this. Why, a footpad is a nobleman compared to him."
"You insolent young puppy!" cried the man; and entirely forgetful of hisinfirmity, he took three or four paces toward them, with his stickraised to strike.
Frank's hand darted to his sword, but Andrew did not stir. He stoodwith his lids half closed and his lips compressed, staring firmly at hiswould-be assailant, never flinching for a moment, nor removing his eyesfrom those which literally glowed with anger.
"The cough's gone, Frank, and the disguise might as well go with it. Heis not an invalid, but one of the vile, treacherous ruffians in the payof the Government. Let your blade alone; he daren't strike, for fear ofhaving a sword through his miserable carcass. He was dressed as asailor the other day, and he looked as if he had never had a foot atsea. He has been hanging about the Park for the past month. Pah! lookat the contemptible worm."
The miserable spy and informer, who had remained with his stick raised,turned white with passion, as he stood listening to the lad's scathingwords, and had either of the boys flinched he mig
"Well," said Andrew, "do you think I insulted him too much?"
"Why, he is an impostor!"
"Pah! London swarms with his kind. They have sent many a good, true,and innocent man to Tyburn for the sake of blood-money--men whose onlyfault was that they believed James Francis to be our rightful king.Frank," cried the lad passionately, "I can't tell you how I loathe thereptiles. I knew that wretch directly; my father pointed him out to meas one to beware of. If he knew what we do, he would send my dear,brave father to the scaffold, and he is trying hard to send yours.Where's your pity for the poor invalid now?"
"Oh!" ejaculated Frank excitedly, "can such things be true?"
"True? Why was he dogging us this morning? I can't be sure, of course;but as likely as not it was upon his information that your poor fatherwas almost taken last night, and your mother nearly broken-hearted thismorning. Why, Frank, I never saw you look so fierce before. It's allnonsense about my being two years older than you. You've overtaken andpassed me, lad. I'm getting quite afraid of you."
"Oh, don't banter me now, Drew. I can't bear it."
"It's only my spiteful tongue, Frank. I don't banter you at heart. I'min earnest. Only a short time ago I used to think I was as old as aman, and it was trouble about my father made me so. Now I can't helpseeing how trouble is altering you too. Don't mind what I say, but Imust say it. Some day you'll begin to think that I am not so much toblame for talking as I do about our royal master."
Frank drew a long, deep breath, and felt as if it might after all bepossible.
"There, that's enough for one morning," cried Andrew merrily. "We'reonly boys after all, even if I am such a queer fish. Let's be boysagain now. What do you say? I'll race you round the end of the canal,and see who can get in first to breakfast."
"No," said Frank; "I want to walk back quietly and think."
"And I don't mean to let you. There, we've had trouble enough beforebreakfast. Let's put it aside, and if we can get away go and see theHorse Guards parade, and then listen to the band and see some of thedrilling. I want to learn all I can about an officer's duty, so as notto be like a raw recruit when I get my commission, if I ever do. I say:hungry?"
"I? No."
"Then you must be. Make a good breakfast, lad. Sir Robert's safeenough by now, and he'll be more cautious in future about coming amongsthis Majesty's springes and mantraps. Look yonder; there's CaptainMurray. Who's that with him?"
"The doctor."
"So it is. Let's go and talk to them."
"No; let them go by before we start for the gate. I feel as if everyone will be knowing about last night, and want to question me. I wish Icould go away till it has all blown over."
"But you can't, Frank; and you must face it out like a man. I say--"
"Well?"
"You're not likely to see the King, and if you did it's a chance if he'dknow who you are; but you're sure to see the Prince, and I am a bitanxious to know whether he'll take any notice about what his page didlast night, and if he does, what he'll say."
"I'm pretty well sure to see him this afternoon," said Frank gloomily;"and if he questions me I can't tell him a lie. What shall I say?"
"I'll tell you," said Andrew merrily.
"Yes? What?"
"Say nothing. He can't make you speak."
"Then he'll be angry, and it will be fresh trouble for my mother."
"I don't believe he will be," said Andrew. "Well, don't spoil yourbreakfast about something which may never happen. Wait and see. Theworst he could do would be to have you dismissed; and if he does he'lldismiss me too, for I shan't stop here, Frank, unless my father says Imust."