Chapter 48
The Prince waved his hand toward the door, and then for a moment or two he looked startled, for in a quick, impulsive way the boy darted forward and caught the raised hand.
The sudden movement startled the Princess too, and she sprang from her chair; but the look of alarm pa.s.sed from her eyes as she saw the boy bending down to kiss the Prince's hand, and as he let it fall she held out her own.
Frank saw the movement, and the next instant he was down on one knee, kissing it, and rose to give the Princess a smile full of grat.i.tude.
At that moment he felt his shoulder heavily grasped by the Prince.
"Good lad!" he said. "Go to your duties. I see I shall have in you a servant I can trust."
Frank did not know how he got out of the room, for his head was in a whirl, and he did not thoroughly come to himself till he had been seated for some time by his mother's couch and had told her all that had pa.s.sed.
But somehow Lady Gowan did not look happy, and when she parted from her son there was a wistful look in her eyes which told of a greater trouble than that of which the boy was aware.
"Of course," said Andrew Forbes, when he had drawn the full account of the boy's experiences from him; "but you need not be so precious enthusiastic over it. You had done nothing, though plenty of people get hung nowadays for that."
"But he was very kind and nice to me."
"Kind and nice!" said Andrew, with a sneer. "That was his artfulness.
He wants to make all the friends he can against a rainy day--his rainy day. He's thinking of being king; but he won't be. I do know that."
Frank gave him an angry look, and turned away; but his companion caught his arm.
"Don't go, Frank; that was only one of my snarls. I'm not so generous and ready to believe in people as you are."
Frank remembered his companion's position and his confidence about his father, and turned back.
"I can't bear to hear you talk like that."
"Slipped out," said Andrew hurriedly. "There, then, it's all right again for you. But there's no mistake about your having a good friend in the Princess."
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.
FRANK BOILS OVER.
There seemed to be a good deal of excitement about the court one day; people were whispering together, and twice over, as Frank was approaching, he noted that they either ceased talking or turned their backs upon him and walked away. But he took no further notice
His mother had seemed terribly troubled and anxious when he had met her, but he shrank from asking her the cause, feeling that his father's long silence was telling upon her; and in the hope of getting news he went again and again to the house in Queen Anne Street, ascended to the drawing-room, and opened the picture-panelled closet door.
But it was for nothing. The housekeeper had told him that Sir Robert had not been; but thinking that his father could have let himself in unknown to the old servant, Frank clung to the hope that he might have been, deposited a letter, and gone again, possibly in the night. In every visit, though, he was disappointed, but contented himself by thinking that his father had acted wisely, and felt that it was not safe to come for fear that he might be watched.
It was nearly a week since he had been to the house, and he was longing for an opportunity to go again, but opportunity had not served, and he came to the conclusion that he would slip off that very afternoon, after exacting a promise from Andrew Forbes that he would keep in the anteroom ready to attend to any little duty which might require the presence of one of the pages.
To his surprise, though, Andrew was nowhere to be seen. To have inquired after him would only have served to draw attention to his absence, so he contented himself with waiting patiently, but minute by minute he grew more anxious, feeling convinced that something must have occurred.
"Whatever has happened?" he said to himself at last, as he saw officers begin to arrive and be ushered into the Prince's room; but why, there was no chance for him to know, as there was no one to whom he could apply for information, and at last he sat alone in the great blank saloon, fidgeting as if he were upon thorns, and inventing all manner of absurd reasons to account for his companion's absence.
"I know," he said to himself at last; "he has noticed that there is something on the way, and gone out to try and pick up news. He'll be here directly."
But he was wrong. Andrew did not come, and several little things occurred to show him that there was undue excitement about the place.
At last his suspense came to an end, as he sat alone, for Andrew appeared looking flushed and excited, glanced sharply round as soon as he was inside the door, caught sight of his friend, and half ran to join him.
"Oh, here you are, then, at last!" cried Frank.
"At last," said the lad.
"Yes; where have you been--news-hunting?"
"Yes," he whispered excitedly; "news-hunting, and I ran it down."
"What is it? There are three officers with the Prince, and I heard some one say that a messenger was to be despatched to bring the King back to town."
"Did you hear that?" cried Andrew excitedly.
"Yes."
"Ah!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Andrew.
"What is it? A riot?"
"Yes, a very big riot, lad; a very, very big one. Now we shall see."
"It doesn't seem likely for it to be _we_," said Frank sarcastically.
"Why don't you out with it, and tell me what's the matter?"
"Oh, two things; but haven't you heard?"
"Of course not, or I shouldn't be begging and praying of you to speak."
"I found a letter from the dad, that's one thing, and he told me what I find the place is ringing with."
"Something about bells?" said Frank, laughing.
"Yes, if you like," said Andrew wildly. "The tocsin. War, my lad, war!"
"What! with France?"
"No; England. At last. The King has landed."
"I say, are you going mad?"
"Yes, with excitement. Frank, the game has begun, and we must throw up everything now, and join hands with the good men and true who are going to save our country."
"Bah! You've got one of your fits on again," cried Frank contemptuously; "what a gunpowder fizgig you are!"
"Look here!" said Andrew, in an angry whisper; "this is no time for boyish folly. We must be men. The crisis has come, and this miserable sham reign is pretty well at an end."