Read In Honour's Cause: A Tale of the Days of George the First Page 5


  CHAPTER FIVE.

  THE OFFICER OF THE GUARDS.

  It would not take much guessing to arrive at the course taken by FrankGowan. 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 heknew to his mother; the next day up went that side, for he felt quiteindignant with himself.

  Here, he argued, was he, Frank Gowan, freshly appointed one of thePrince's pages, a most honourable position for a youth of his years, andwith splendid prospects before him, cut off from his old schoolfriendships, and enjoying a new one with a handsome, well-born lad,whom, in spite of many little failings at which he laughed, hethoroughly admired for his dash, courage, and knowledge of the worldembraced by the court. This lad had completely taken him under hiswing, made him proud by the preference he showed for his companionship,and ready to display his warm admiration for his new friend by makinghim the confidant of his secret desires; and what was he, the trustedfriend, 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 donenothing traitorous; but if I go and talk to any one, I shall have donesomething--something cruelly treacherous, which must end in the poorfellow being sent away from the court in disgrace, perhaps to a severepunishment."

  He turned cold at the thought.

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

  But he felt that he might go to his father, and confide the matter tohim, 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 withhis regiment, and they only met on rare occasions. By chance he caughtsight of him on duty at the Palace with the guard, but he could notspeak to him then. At other times he was at his barrack quarters, andrarely at his town house across the Park in Queen Anne Street. Thisplace was generally only occupied by the servants, Lady Gowan havingapartments in the Palace.

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

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

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

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

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

  It was one bright morning at the Palace, where he was standing at theanteroom window just after the regular morning military display, and hehad hardly thought this when a couple of hands were passed over hiseyes, 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 doneit."

  "Bah! hands like a girl's indeed! I shall have to lick you into abetter 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 outwith me for a bit this afternoon."

  "No, thank you," replied the boy, shaking his head. "I don't want to goand see mad politicians quarrel and fight in the city, and get nearlysqueezed 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 Andrewbanteringly.

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

  "You won't get them torn off this afternoon. I want you to come in thePark 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 withyou and feed the ducks."

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

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

  "Yes, I will, Drew, if I can get away. Of course I will. Oh, mother,you there?"

  Lady Gowan had just entered the room, and came up toward the window,smiling, and looking proud, happy, and almost too young to be the motherof the stout, manly-looking boy who hurried to meet her; and courtetiquette did not hinder a loving exchange of kisses. She shook handsdirectly after with Andrew Forbes.

  "I am afraid that you two find it very dull here sometimes," she said.

  "Well, yes, Lady Gowan," said the youth, "I often do. I'm not likeFrank here, with his friends at court."

  "But I have so few opportunities for seeing him, Mr Forbes. After afew weeks, though, I shall be at home yonder, and then you must come andspend as much time there as you can with Frank."

  Andrew bowed and smiled, and said something about being glad.

  "Frank dear," said Lady Gowan, "I have had a letter from your fatherthis morning, and I have written an answer. He wants to see you for alittle while. He is at home for a couple of days. You can take thenote across."

  "Yes," cried Frank, flushing with pleasure; but the next moment heturned to Andrew with an apologetic look.

  "What is the matter?" said Lady Gowan. "Am I interrupting some plans?"

  "Oh, nothing, nothing, Lady Gowan," said Andrew, warmly.

  "I was going out with Drew, mother; but we can go another time. He willnot mind."

  "But it was only this afternoon."

  "Oh!" cried Lady Gowan, "he will be back in an hour or so. I am gladthat you were going out, my boy; it will make a little change for you.And I am very glad, Mr Forbes, that he has found so kind a companion."

  Andrew played the courtier to such perfection, that as soon as she hadpassed out of the room with her son Lady Gowan laughed merrily.

  "In confidence, Frank," she said, "and not to hurt Mr Forbes'sfeelings, do not imitate his little bits of courtly etiquette. Theypartake too much of the dancing-master. I like to see my boy naturaland manly. There, quick to your father, with my dear love, and tell himI am longing for his leave, when we can have, I hope, a couple of monthsin Hampshire."

  "Hah!" ejaculated Frank, as he hurried across the Park; "a couple ofmonths in Hampshire. I wonder how long it will be?"

  Ten minutes later he was going up two steps at a time to the roomaffected by his father in the spacious house in Queen Anne Street,where, as soon as he threw open the door, he caught sight of the lightlybuilt but vigorous and active-looking officer in scarlet, seated at thewindow overlooking the Park, deep in a formidable-looking letter.

  "Ah, Frank, my dear boy," he cried, hurriedly thrusting the letter intohis breast, "this is good. What, an answer already? You lucky youngdog, to have the best woman in the world for a mother. Bless her!" hecried, kissing the letter and placing it with the other; "I'll read thatwhen you are gone. Not come to stay, I suppose?"

  "No, father," cried the boy, whose eyes flashed with excitement as theytook in every portion of the officer in turn. "I've only come to bringthe note; mother said you wished to see me."

  "Of course, my boy, so as to have a few words. I just catch a glimpseof you now and then, but it's only a nod."

  "And I do often long so to come to you," cried Frank, with his arm uponhis father's shoulder.


  "That's right, boy," said Sir Robert, smiling and taking his hands; "butit wouldn't do for the captain of the guard to be hugging his boy beforeeverybody, eh? We men must be men, and do all that sort of thing with anod or a look. As long as we understand each other, my boy, that'senough, eh?"

  "Yes, father, of course."

  "But bravo, Frank; you're growing and putting on muscle. By George,yes! Arms are getting hard, and--good--fine depth of chest for yourage. Don't, because you are the Prince's page, grow into a dandymacaroni milk-sop, all scent, silk, long curls, and pomatum. I want youto grow into a man, fit for a soldier to fight for his king."

  "And that's what I want to do, father," said the lad proudly.

  "Of course you do; and so you will. You are altering wonderfully, boy.Why, hallo! I say," cried the captain, with mock seriousness, as heheld his son sidewise and gazed at his profile against the light.

  "What's the matter, father?" cried Frank, startled.

  "Keep your head still, sir; I want to look. Yes, it's a fact--veryyoung and tender, but there it is; it's coming up fast. Why, Frank boy,you'll soon have to shave."

  "What nonsense!" cried the boy, reddening partly at being laughed at,but quite as much with satisfaction.

  "It's no nonsense, you young dog. There's your moustache coming, and nomistake. Why, if I had a magnifying-glass, I could see it quiteplainly."

  "I say, father, don't; I can't stop long, and--and--that teases one."

  "Then I won't banter you, boy," cried Sir Robert, clapping him heartilyon the shoulder; "but, I say, you know: it's too bad of you, sir. Idon't like it."

  "What is, father? What have I done?"

  "Oh I suppose you can't help it; but it's too bad of you to grow sofast, and make your mother look an old woman."

  "That she doesn't, father," cried the boy. "Why, she's theyoungest-looking and most beautiful lady at court."

  "So she is, my boy--so she is. Heaven bless her!"

  "And as for you, father, you talk about looking old, and about megrowing big and manly; I shall never grow into such a fine, handsomeofficer as you."

  "Why, you wicked, parasitical, young court flatterer!" cried Sir Robert;"you're getting spoiled and sycophantish already."

  "I'm not, father!" cried the boy, flushing; "it's quite true, every wordof it. Everybody says what a noble-looking couple you are."

  "Do they, my boy?" said the father more gently, and there was a trace ofemotion in his tone. "But there's not much couple in it, living apartlike this. Ah, well, we have our duty to do, and mine is cut out forme. But never mind the looks, Frank, my boy, and the gay uniform; it'sthe man I want you to grow into. But all the same, sir, nature isnature. Look there."

  "What, at grandfather's portrait?"

  "Yes, boy. You will not need to have yours painted, and I have not hadmine taken for the same reason. Is it like me?"

  "Yes, father. If you were dressed the same, it would be exactly likeyou."

  "In twenty years' time it will do for you."

  Frank laughed.

  "But I say yes, sir," cried Sir Robert. "Why, in sixteen years' time,if I could have stood still, we two would be as much alike as a coupleof peas. But in sixteen years perhaps I shall be in my grave."

  "Father!"

  "Well, I'm a soldier, my boy; and soldiers have to run risks more thanother men."

  "Oh, but you won't; you're too big and brave."

  "Ha--ha--ha! Flattering again. Why, Frank, I sometimes think I'm acoward."

  "You! A coward! I should like to hear any one say so."

  "A good many will perhaps, boy. But there, never mind that; and perhapsafter all you had better not follow my profession."

  "What! not be a soldier!"

  "Yes. Do you really wish to be?"

  "Why of course, father; I don't want to be a palace lapdog all my life."

  "Bravo, Frank! well said!" cried the father heartily. "Well, you comeof a military family, and I dare say I can get you a commission when thebeard really does grow so that it can be seen without an optic glass."

  "Oh, I say, father, you're beginning to tease again. I say, do get upand walk across the room."

  "Eh? What for?"

  "I want to look at you."

  Sir Robert smiled and shook his head. Then, slowly rising, he drewhimself up in military fashion, and marched slowly across the room andback, with his broad-skirted scarlet and gold uniform coat, whitebreeches, and high boots, and hand resting upon his sword hilt, andlooking the beau ideal of an officer of the King's Guards.

  "There, have I been weak enough, Frank?" he said, stopping in front ofhis son, and laying his hands affectionately upon his shoulders. "Allshow, my boy. When you've worn it as long as I have, you will think aslittle of it; but it is quite natural for it to attract a boy like you.But now sit down and tell me a little about how you spend your time. Ifind that you have quite taken up with Andrew Forbes. His fatherpromised me that the lad should try and be companionable to you. Forbesis an old friend of mine still, though he is in disgrace at court. Howdo you get on with Andrew? Like him?"

  "Oh, very much, father."

  "Well, don't like him too much, my boy. Lads of your age are rather tooready to make idols of showy fellows a year or two older, and look up tothem and imitate them, when too often the idol is not of such good stuffas the worshipper. So you like him?"

  "Yes, father."

  "Kind and helpful to you?"

  "Oh, very."

  "Well, what is it?"

  "What is what, father?"

  "That cloudy look on your face. Why, Frank, I've looked at you so oftenthat I can read it quite plainly. Why, you've been quarrelling withAndrew Forbes!"

  "Oh no, father; we're the best of friends."

  "Then what is it, Frank? You are keeping something back."

  Sir Robert spoke almost sternly, and the son shrank from gazing in thefine, bold, questioning eyes.

  "I knew it," said Sir Robert. "What is it, boy? Speak out."

  It was the firm officer talking now, and Frank felt his breath comeshorter as his heart increased the speed of its pulsations.

  "Well, sir, I am waiting. Why don't you answer?"

  "I can't, father."

  "Can't? I thought my boy always trusted his father, as he trusts hisson. There, out with it, Frank. The old saying, my lad. The truth maybe blamed, but can never be shamed. What is it--some scrape? There,let's have it, and get it over. Always come to me, my boy. We are noneof us perfect, so let there be no false shame. If you have done wrong,come to me and tell me like a man. If it means punishment, that willnot be one hundredth part as painful to you as keeping it back andforfeiting my confidence in my dear wife's boy."

  "Oh, I would come. I have wanted to come to you about this, but I feltthat I could not."

  "Why?"

  "Because it would be dishonourable."

  "Perhaps that is only your opinion, Frank. Would it not be better forme to give you my opinion?"

  The boy hesitated for a moment. Then quickly:

  "I gave my word, father."

  "To whom?"

  "Andrew Forbes."

  "Not to speak of whatever it is?"

  "Yes, father."

  Sir Robert Gowan sat looking stern and silent for a few moments as ifthinking deeply.

  "Frank boy," he said at last. "I am a man of some experience; you are amere boy fresh from a country school, and now holding a post which mayexpose you to many temptations. I, then, as your father, whose desireis to watch over you and help you to grow into a brave and good man,hold that it would not be dishonourable for you to confide in me inevery way. It can be no dishonour for you to trust me."

  "Then I will tell you, father;" and the boy hastily laid bare hisbreast, telling of his adventures with Andrew Forbes, and how great asource of anxiety they had proved to be.

  "Hah!" said Sir Robert, after sitting with knitted brows lookingcuriously at h
is son and hearing him to the end. "Well, I am very gladthat you have spoken, my boy, and I think it will be right for you tostand your ground, and be ready to laugh at Master Andrew and hispolitical associations. It is what people call disloyal and treasonableon one side; on the other, it is considered noble and right. But youneed not trouble your head about that. Andrew Forbes is after all amere boy, very enthusiastic, and led away perhaps by thoughts of thePrince living in exile instead of sitting on the throne of England. Butyou don't want to touch politics for the next ten years. It would bebetter for many if they never touched them at all. There, I am glad youhave told me."

  "So am I now, father. But you will not speak about it all, so as to getDrew in disgrace?"

  "I give you my word I will not, Frank. Oh, nonsense! It is froth--fluff; a chivalrous boy's fancy and sympathy for one he thinks isoppressed. No, Frank, no words of mine will do Drew Forbes any harm;but as for you--"

  "Yes, father."

  "Do all you can to help him and hold him back. It would be a pity forhim to suffer through being rash. They might treat it all as a boy'snonsense--No, it would mean disgrace. Keep him from it if you can."

  "I, father! He is so much older than I am, and I looked up to him."

  "Proof of what I said, Frank," cried Sir Robert, clapping his son uponthe shoulder. "He is a bright, showy lad; but you carry more ballastthan he. Brag's a good dog, you know, but Holdfast's a better. Now,then, I think you ought to be going back. Good-bye, my boy. I look toyou to be your mother's protector more and more. Perhaps in the futureI may be absent. But you must go now, for I have an important letter towrite. My dear love to your mother, and come to me again whenever youhave a chance."

  Sir Robert went down to the garden door with his son, and let him outthat way into the Park.

  "Mind," he said at parting. "Keep away from political mobs."

  "I will," said Frank to himself, as he turned back. "Well, it will beall right going with Drew this afternoon, as it is only to feed theducks."