CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.
UNDER THE DARK CLOUD.
There was no waiting for news now. Despatch succeeded despatch rapidly,and the occupants of the Palace were made familiar with the proceedingsin the north; and as Frank heard more and more of the disastrous tidingshe was in agony, and at last announced to Captain Murray that he couldbear it all no longer.
"I must go and join my father," he said one day. "It is cruel andcowardly to stay here in the midst of all this luxury and rejoicing,while he is being dragged up to London like a criminal."
"Have you told Lady Gowan of your intentions?" said the captain quietly.
"Told her? No!" cried Frank excitedly. "Why, in her state it wouldhalf kill her."
"And if you break away from here and go to join your father, it wouldquite kill her."
Frank looked at him aghast, and the captain went on:
"We must practise common sense, Frank, and not act madly at a time likethis."
"Is it to act madly to go and help one's father in his great trouble?"
"No; you must help him, but in the best way."
"That is the best way," said the boy hotly.
"No. What would you do?"
"Go straight to him and try and make his lot more bearable. Think howglad he would be to see me."
"Of course he would, and then he would blame you for leaving yourmother's side when she is sick and suffering."
"But this is such a terrible time of need. I must go to him; but Iwanted to be straightforward and tell you first."
"Good lad."
"Think what a terrible position mine is, Captain Murray."
"I do, boy, constantly; but I must, as your friend and your father's,look at the position sensibly."
"Oh, you are so cold and calculating, when my father's life is atstake."
"Yes. I don't want you to do anything that would injure him."
"I--injure him!"
"Yes, boy."
"But I only want to be by his side."
"Well, to do that you would run away from here, for the Prince would notlet you go."
"No, he will not. I asked him."
"You did?"
"Yes, two days ago."
"Then if you go without leave, you will make a good friend angry."
"Perhaps so; but I cannot stay away."
"You must, boy, for it would be injuring your father; and, look here, ifyou went, you could not get near the prisoners. Those who have them incharge would not let you pass."
"But I would get a permission from the King."
"Rubbish, boy! He would not listen to you. He might as a man be readyto pardon your father; but as King he would feel that he could not. No;I must speak plainly to you: his Majesty will deal sternly with theprisoners, to make an example for his enemies, and show them the follyof attempting to shake his position on the throne."
"Oh, Captain Murray! Captain Murray!" cried the boy.
"Look here, Frank lad. Your journey to meet the prisoners would be anutter waste of energy, and you would most likely miss them, for to avoidthe possibility of attempts at rescue their escort would probably takeall kinds of byways and be constantly changing their route."
"But I should have tried to help my father, even if I failed."
"Don't run the risk of failure, boy," said the captain earnestly. "Ouronly hopes lie in the Prince and Princess. The Prince would, I feelsure, spare your father's life if he could, for the sake of his wife'sfriend. But he is not king, only a subject like ourselves, and he willbe governed by his father and his father's Ministers. Now you see thatyou must not alienate our only hope by doing rash things."
Frank looked at him in despair.
"Now do you see why I oppose you?"
"Yes, yes," said the boy despondently. "Oh, how I wish I were wise!"
"There is only one way to grow wise, Frank: learn--think and calculatebefore you make a step. Now, look here, my boy. The Prince has plentyof good points in his character. He likes you; and he shall be appealedto through your mother and the Princess. Now, promise me that you willdo nothing rashly, and that you will give up this project."
"Should I be right in giving it up?"
"Yes," said the captain emphatically.
"But what will my father think? I shall seem to be forsaking him in hisgreat trouble."
"He will think you are doing your duty, and are trying hard to save hislife. Come, don't be down-hearted, for we are all at work. There isour regiment to count upon yet--the King's own Guards, who will, to aman, join in a prayer to his Majesty to spare the life of the mostpopular officer in the corps."
"Ah! yes," cried Frank.
"I don't want even to hint at mutiny; but the King at a time like thiswould think twice before refusing the prayer of the best regiment in hisservice."
"Oh, Captain Murray!" cried the lad excitedly. "I will promiseeverything. I will go by your advice."
"That's right, my lad; my head is a little older than yours, you know.Now, go back to your duties, and let the Prince see that his page iswaiting hopefully and patiently to see how he will help him. Go to yourmother, too, all you can, and tell her, to cheer her up, that we are allhard at work, and that no stone shall be left unturned to save SirRobert's life."
Frank caught the captain's hands in his, and stood holding them for afew moments before hurrying out of the room.
Then more news came of each day's march, and of the slow approach of theprisoners--the leaders only, the rest being imprisoned in Cheshire andLancashire to await their fate.
It was hard work, but Frank kept his word, trying to be more energeticthan ever over his duties, and finding that he was not passingunnoticed, for every morning the Prince gave him a quiet look ofrecognition, or a friendly nod, but never once spoke.
The most painful part of his life in those days was in his visits to hismother. These were agony to him, feeling as he did more and more howutterly insignificant and helpless he was; but he had one satisfactionto keep him going and make him look forward longingly for the nextmeeting--paradoxical as it may sound--so as to suffer more agony anddespair, for he could plainly see that his mother clung to him now asher only stay, and that she was happiest when he was with her, andbegged and prayed of him to come back to her as soon as he possiblycould, now that she was so weak and ill.
"I believe, my darling," she whispered one evening, "that I should havedied if you had not been here."
"Yes, my lad," said the Princess's physician to him as well; "you mustbe with Lady Gowan as much as you can. Her illness is mental, and youcan do more for her now than I can. Ha--ha! I shall have to resign mypost to you."
"Yes," said the boy to himself, "Captain Murray is quite right;" and hewent straight to his friend's quarters, as he often did, to give him anaccount of his mother's state.
"Yes, sir," he said; "you were quite right: it would have killed her ifI had gone away."
"Come, you are beginning to believe in me, Frank. Now I have some newsfor you."
"About Drew Forbes?" cried Frank eagerly.
"No; I have made all the inquiries I can, but I can hear nothing of thepoor fellow. His father is with yours; but the lad seems to havedropped out of sight, and I have my fears."
"Oh, don't say that," cried Frank excitedly; "he was so young."
"Yes," said the captain grimly; "but in a fight young and old run equalchances, while in the exposure and suffering of forced marches the youngand untried fare worse than the old and seasoned. Drew Forbes was aweak, girlish fellow, all brain and no muscle. I am in hopes, though,that he may have broken down, and be lying sick at some cottage orfarmhouse."
"Hopes!" cried Frank.
"Yes, he may get well with rest. Better than being well and strong, andon his way to suffer by the rope or axe."
Frank shuddered.
"Now then," cried the captain sharply, to change the conversation; "youfound my advice good?"
"Yes, yes," said Frank.
r /> "Then take some more. Look here, Frank; the doctor and I were talkingabout you last night, and he is growing very anxious. He said the bladewas wearing out the scabbard, and that you were making an old man ofyourself."
"Not a young one yet," said the boy, smiling sadly.
"Never mind that. You'll grow old soon enough. He says what I think,that you never go out, and that you will break down."
"Oh, absurd! I don't want exercise."
For answer the captain clapped him on the shoulder, and twisted himround.
"Look at your white face in the glass, my boy. Don't risk illness. Youwill want all your strength directly in the fight for life to come.Your father will, in all probability, reach London to-morrow."
"Ah!" cried Frank excitedly.
"Yes; we had news this morning by the messenger who brought the royaldespatches. The colonel had a brief letter. Get leave to go outto-morrow, and come with me."
"Yes, where?"
"We'll try and meet the escort, and see your father, even if we cannotspeak."
"Oh!" ejaculated Frank; and, utterly worn out with anxiety and want ofproper food, he reeled, a deathly feeling of sickness seized him, andhis eyes closed.
When he opened them again he was lying upon the captain's couch, withhis temples and hair wet, and he looked wonderingly in the face of hisfather's friend.
"Better?"
"Yes; what is it? Oh my head! the room's going round."
"Drink," said the captain. "That's better. It will soon go off."
"But why did I turn like that?"
"From weakness, lad. Shall I send for the doctor?"
"No, no," cried Frank, struggling up into a sitting position. "I'mbetter now. How stupid of me!"
"Nature telling you she has been neglected, my lad. You have not eatenmuch lately?"
"I couldn't."
"Nor slept well?"
"Horribly. I could only lie and think."
"And you have not been outside the walls?"
"No; I have felt ashamed to be seen, and as if people would look at meand say, `His father is one of the prisoners.'"
"All signs of weakness, as the doctor would say. Now you want to bestrong enough to go with me to-morrow--mounted?"
"Of course."
"Then try and do something to make yourself fit. I shouldn't perhaps beable to catch you as I did just now if you fainted on horseback, and ina London crowd; for we should be under the wing of the troops sent tomeet the prisoners coming in."
"I shall be all right, sir," said the boy firmly.
"Go and have a walk in the fresh air, then, now."
"Must I?" said Frank dismally.
"If you wish to go with me."
"Where shall I go, then?"
"Anywhere; go and have a turn in the Park."
"What, go and walk up and down there, where people may know me!"
"Yes, let them. Don't take any notice. Try and amuse yourself. Be aboy again, or a man if you like, and do as Charles the Second used todo: go and feed the ducks. Well, what's the matter? there's no harm infeeding ducks, is there?"
"Oh no," said the boy confusedly; "I'll go;" and he hurried out.