CHAPTER SIX.
FRANK FEEDS THE DUCKS.
Something very nearly akin to a guilty feeling troubled Frank uponmeeting his fellow-page that afternoon; but his father's promise, inconjunction with his words respecting Andrew's actions being merelythose of an enthusiastic boy, helped to modify the trouble he felt, andin a few minutes it passed off. For Andrew began by asking how hisfriend's father was, and praising him.
"I always liked your father, Frank," he said; "but he's far too good forwhere he is. Well, we're off duty till the evening. Ready for ourrun?"
"Oh yes, I'm ready," said Frank, laughing; "but you won't run unlesssomebody's carriage is being mobbed. You could go fast enough then."
"Well, of course I can run if I like. Come along."
"Where's the bread?" asked Frank.
"Bread? What bread? Are you hungry already?"
"No, no; the bread you talked about."
"The bread I talked about? What nonsense! I never said anything aboutbread that I can remember."
"Well, you said we were going to feed the ducks."
"Oh-h-oh!" ejaculated Andrew; and he then burst into a hearty fit oflaughter. "Of course: so I did. I didn't think of it. Well, perhapswe had better take some. Ring the bell, and ask one of the footmen tobring you some."
Frank thought it strange that his companion, after proposing that theyshould go and feed the ducks, had forgotten all about the bread.However, he said no more, but rang, and asked the servant to get him acouple of slices.
The man stared, but withdrew, and came back directly.
"I beg your pardon, sir," he said; "but did you wish me to bring thebread here?"
"Certainly. Be quick, please. We are waiting to go out."
The man withdrew for the second time, and the lads waited chattingtogether till Andrew grew impatient.
"Ring again," he cried. "Have they sent to have a loaf baked? It'sgetting late. Let's start. Never mind the bread."
"Oh, let's have it now it's ordered. How are we to feed the duckswithout?"
"Throw them some stones," said Andrew mockingly. "Come along. We'lllook at other people feeding them--if there are any. Look here; it'stwenty minutes by that clock since you gave the order."
At that moment another footman opened the door, and held it back for oneof his fellows to enter bearing a tray covered with a cloth, on whichwere a loaf, a butter-dish, knives, plates, glasses, and a decanter ofwater.
"Oh, what nonsense!" cried Andrew impatiently. "There, cut a slice,Frank, put it in your pocket, and come along, or we shall be late."
"I did not know that ducks had particular hours for being fed," thoughtthe boy, as he cut into the loaf, and then hacked off two slices insteadof one, the two men-servants standing respectfully back and looking on,both being too well-trained to smile, as Frank thrust one slice into hispocket and offered the other to Andrew. "Oh, I don't want it," he saidimpatiently. "Better take it," cried Frank. "I shan't give you any ofmine."
Andrew hesitated for a moment, and then snatched a handkerchief from hispocket, wrapped the slice in it, and thrust the handkerchief back.
"Perhaps I had better take one too," he said aloud; and then to hiscompanion as they went out: "Makes one look so ridiculous and childishbefore the servants. They'll go chattering about it all over theplace."
"Let them," said Frank coolly. "I don't see anything to be ashamed of."
"No," said Andrew, with something like a sneer, "you don't; but you willsome day. There, let's make haste."
It did not strike the lad that his companion's manner was peculiar, onlythat he felt it to be rather an undignified proceeding; but he saidnothing, and accommodating his stride to Andrew's long one, they crossedthe courtyard, went out into the Park, and came in sight of the waterglittering in the sun.
"There's a good place," said Frank. "Plenty of ducks close in."
"Oh, there's a better place round on the other side," said Andrewhastily. "Let's go there."
"Anywhere you like," said Frank, "so long as we're out here on the freshgrass again. What a treat it is to be among the green trees!"
"Much better than the country, eh?"
"Oh no; but it does very well. I say, I wish we might fish."
"Oh, we'll go fishing some day. Walk faster; we're late."
"Fast as you like. What do you say to a run? You can run, you say,when you like."
"Oh no, we needn't run; only walk fast."
"Or the ducks will be impatient," said Frank, laughing.
"Yes, or the ducks may be impatient," said Andrew to himself, as he ledon toward the end of the ornamental water nearest to where BuckinghamPalace now stands, and bore off to the left; and when some distance backalong the farther shore of the lake and nearly opposite to Saint James'sPalace, he said suddenly:
"Look, Frank, there is some one beforehand;" and he pointed to where agentleman stood by the edge of the water shooting bits of biscuit withhis thumb and finger some distance out, apparently for the sake ofseeing the ducks race after them, some aiding themselves with theirwings, and then paddling back for more.
The two lads walked up to where the gentleman was standing, and as heheard them approach he turned quickly, and Frank saw that he was a pale,slight, thin-faced, youngish-looking man who might be forty.
"Ah, Andrew," he said, "you here; how are you? You have not come tofeed the ducks?"
"Oh yes, I have," said Andrew, giving the stranger a peculiar look; "andI've brought a friend with me. Let me introduce him. Mr Frank Gowan,Captain Sir Robert Gowan's son, and my fellow-servant with his RoyalHighness. Frank, this happens to be a friend of mine--Mr GeorgeSelby."
"I am very glad to meet any friend of Andrew Forbes," said the stranger,raising his hat with a most formal bow. "I know Sir Robert slightly."
As he replaced his hat and smiled pleasantly to the salute Frank gave inreturn, he took a biscuit from his pocket, and began to break it in verysmall pieces, when, apparently without any idea of its looking childish,Andrew took out his piece of bread, and after a moment's hesitationFrank did the same, the ducks in his Majesty's "canal," as he termed it,benefiting largely by the result.
"Any news?" said Andrew, after this had been going on for some minutes,and as he spoke he turned his head and looked fixedly at Mr Selby.
"No, nothing whatever; everything is as dull as can be," was the reply,and the fixed look was returned.
There seemed to be nothing in these words of an exciting nature, andFrank was intent upon a race between two green-headed drakes for a pieceof crust which he had jerked out to a considerable distance; but all thesame Andrew Forbes drew a deep breath, and his face flushed up. Then heglanced sharply at Frank, and looked relieved to find how his attentionwas diverted.
"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 havethought that you gentlemen, living as you do in the very centre ofLondon life, would have had plenty to amuse you."
"Oh no," said Andrew, with a forced laugh. "Ours is a terrible humdrumlife at the Palace, so bad that Gowan there is always wanting to go outinto the country to find sport, and as he cannot and I cannot, we areglad 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 forthe purpose on Wednesday and Friday afternoons about this time. It isharmless, Forbes."
"Very," said the youth, with another glance at Frank; but he wasbreaking a piece of crust for another throw, and another meaning lookpassed between the two, Forbes seeming to question the stranger with hiseyes, and to receive for answer an almost imperceptible nod.
"Yes, I like feeding the ducks," said Selby. "One acquires a good dealof natural history knowledge thereby, and also enjoys the pleasure ofmaking new and pleasant friends."
This was directed at Frank, who f
elt uncomfortable, and made anotherbow, it being the proper thing to do, as his new acquaintance--he didnot mentally call him friend--dropped a piece of biscuit, to be seizedby a very fat duck, which had found racing a failure, and succeeded bestby coming out of the water, to snap up the fragments which dropped atthe distributors' feet.
As the piece of biscuit fell, the stranger formally and in a very Frenchfashion raised his cocked 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 leftWinchester and my school friends. Miss the ga--sports; but AndrewForbes has been very friendly to me," he added heartily.
"Of course you feel dull coming among strangers; but never fear, MrGowan, you will have many and valuable friends I hope, your humbleservant among the number. It must be dull, though, at this court. Nowat Saint--"
"That's my last piece of bread, Selby," said Andrew hastily. "Give me abit of biscuit."
"Certainly, if I have one left," was the smiling reply, with anotheralmost imperceptible nod. "Yes, here is the last. Of course you mustfind it dull, and we have not seen you lately at the club, my dearfellow. 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 youwill favour us by accompanying your friend Forbes. Only a littlegathering of gentlemen, young, clever, and I hope enthusiastic. Youwill come?"
"I--that is--"
"Say yes, Frank, and don't be so precious modest. He will bring up abit of country now and then. But he is fast growing into a man oftown."
"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 shalllook forward to seeing you there as my guest. What do you say toMonday?"
"I say yes for both of us," said Andrew quickly.
"I am very glad. There, my last biscuit has gone, so till Mondayevening I will say good-bye--_au revoir_."
"Stick to the English, Selby," said Andrew sharply. "French is notfashionable at Saint James's."
"You are quite right, my dear Forbes. Good-bye, Mr Gowan. It is apleasure to shake your father's son by the hand. Till Monday then, mydear Forbes;" and with a more courtly bow than ever, the gentlemanstalked slowly away, with one hand raising a laced handkerchief to hisface, 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 invitationfor me."
"Pooh! he isn't a stranger. He'll be grateful to you for going. Bigfamily the Selbys, and he'll be very rich some day. Wonderful how fondhe is, though, of feeding the ducks."
"Yes, he seems to be," said Frank; and he accompanied his companion asthe latter strolled on now along the bank after finishing thedistribution of bread to the feathered fowl by sending nearly a wholebiscuit skimming and making ducks and drakes on the surface of thewater; but the living ducks and drakes soon ended that performance andfollowed the pair in vain. For Andrew Forbes had suddenly become verythoughtful; while his companion also had his fit of musing, which endedin his saying to himself:
"I wish I was as clever as they are. It almost seemed as if they meantsomething more than they said. It comes from living in London Isuppose, and perhaps some day I shall get to be as sharp and quick asthey 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 wantat a club? I don't know anything that they'd want to know, living as Ido shut up in the Palace." But there Frank Gowan was wrong, for whatwent on at Saint James's Palace in the early days of the eighteenthcentury was of a great deal of interest to some people outside, and henever forgot the feeding of the ducks.