Chapter 73
He had been longing intensely to look back before and see if the men were following his friend; but to his great relief he found that they were not very far from where he now stood.
Then he walked quietly back toward the Palace gates with his head beginning to buzz with excitement at the news he had heard.
"They're going to rescue him to-morrow," he thought.
"Ought I to tell Captain Murray? No; impossible. He might feel that it was his duty to warn the King. It would be giving him a task to fight against duty and friends.h.i.+p. I dare not even tell my mother, for fear the excitement might do her harm. No, I must keep it to myself, and I shall be there--I shall be there."
He did not see where he was going, for in his imagination he was on horseback, looking on at a mighty, seething crowd making a bold rush at the cavalry escort round some carriages. But he was brought to himself directly after by a bluff voice saying:
"Don't run over me, Frank, my lad. But that's right; the walk has brought some colour into your cheeks."
The colour deepened, as the speaker went on:
"I've arranged for a quiet horse to be ready with mine, my lad, and I have a good hint or two as to where we ought to go so as to be in the route. It will not be till close on dusk, though."
"Oh, if I could tell exactly the way they will come, and the time, and let Drew know, it might mean saving my father's life," thought Frank.
"I must tell Captain Murray then.
"No, it would not do," he mused; "for if I did, he would not move an inch. How to get the news, and go and find Drew! But where? Ah! I might hear of him from some one at the tavern where they have that club."
"Why, Frank lad, what are you thinking about?" said the captain. "I've been talking to you for ever so long, and you don't answer."
"Oh, Captain Murray," said the boy sadly, "you must know."
"Yes, my lad," said the captain sadly, "of course I know."
CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.
AT THE LAST MOMENT.
There was not much sleep for the boy that night, for he was in the horns of a terrible dilemma. What should he do? He turned from side to side of his bed, trying to argue the matter out, till his father's fate, his duty to the King and Prince, the natural desire to help, his love for his mother, Captain Murray and his duty to the King and friends.h.i.+p for his brother-officer and companion, were jumbled up in an inextricable tangle with Drew Forbes and the attempt at rescue.
"Oh!" he groaned, as day broke and found him still tossing restlessly upon his pillow; "I often used to tell poor Drew that he was going mad.
I feel as if I were already gone, for my head won't work. I can't think straight, just too when I want to be perfectly clear, and able to make my plans."
It would have prostrated a cleverer and more calculating brain than Frank's--one of those wonderful minds which can see an intricate game of chess right forward, the player's own and his adversary's moves in attack or defence--to have calmly mapped out the proper course for the lad through the rocks, shoals, and quicksands which beset his path. As it happened, all his mental struggles proved to be in vain; for, as is frequently the case in life, the maze of difficulties shaped themselves into a broad, even path, along which the boy travelled till the exciting times were past.
To begin with, nature knew when the brain would bear no more; and just at sunrise, when Frank had tried to nerve himself for a fresh struggle by plunging face and a good
"Yes," he said at last. "What is it?"
"Will you make haste and go across to Lady Gowan's apartments, sir?"
said a voice. "She has been very ill all night, and wishes to see you."
"Oh!" groaned Frank to himself. Then aloud: "Yes; come over directly."
He began to dress rapidly, with all the troubles of the night magnified and made worse by the mental lens of reproach through which he was looking at his conduct.
"How can I be such a miserable, thoughtless wretch!" he thought. "How could I neglect everything which might have helped to save my poor father for the sake of grovelling here, and all the time my mother ill, perhaps dying, while I slept, not seeming to care a bit!"
He had a few minutes of hard time beneath the unsparing lashes he mentally applied to himself as he was dressing; and then, ready to sink beneath his load of care, and feeling the while that he ought to have obtained from Captain Murray the route the prisoners would take, and then have found Drew Forbes and told him, so as to render the attempt at rescue easier, he hurried across the first court, and then into the lesser one to his mother's apartments.
"The doctor's with her, sir," whispered the maid.
"How is she now?" asked Frank.
"Dreadfully bad, sir. Pray make haste to her; she asked for you again when the doctor came."
Frank hurried up, to find the quiet physician who attended her and a nurse in the room, while the patient lay with her eyes looking dim, and two hectic spots in her thin cheeks, gazing anxiously at the door.
A faint smile of recognition came upon her lips, and she raised one hand to her son, and laid it upon his head as he sank upon his knees by the bedside.
"Oh, mother darling!" he whispered, in a choking voice, "forgive me for not coming before."
She half closed her eyes, and made a movement of the lips for him to kiss her. Then her eyes closed, as she breathed a weary sigh.
Frank turned in horror to the physician, who bent down and whispered to him.
"Don't be alarmed; it is sleep. She has, I find, been in a terribly excited state, and I have been compelled to administer a strong sedative. She will be calmer when she wakes. Sleep is everything now."
"You are not deceiving me, sir?" whispered Frank.
"No. That is the simple truth," replied the physician, very firmly.
"Your mother may wake at any time; but I hope many hours will first elapse. I find that she has expressed an intense longing for you to come to her side, and, as you saw, she recognised you."
"Oh yes, she knew me," said Frank eagerly. "But pray tell me--she is not dying?"
"Lady Gowan is in a very serious condition," replied the doctor; "but I hope she will recover, and--"
"Yes, yes; pray speak out to me, sir," pleaded the boy.
"Her ailment is almost entirely mental; and if the news can be brought to her that the King will show mercy to her husband, I believe that her recovery would be certain."
"Then you think I ought to go at once and try to save my father?"
"No," said the physician gravely. "I know all the circ.u.mstances of the case. You can do no good by going. Leave that to your friends--those high in position. Your place is here. Whenever Lady Gowan wakes, she must find you at her bedside. There, I will leave you now. Absolute quiet, mind. Sleep is the great thing. I will come in again in about three hours. The nurse knows what to do."
The physician went out silently, and Frank seated himself by his mother's pillow, to hold the thin hand which feebly clung to his and watch her, thinking the while of how his difficulties had been solved by these last orders, which bound him there like the endors.e.m.e.nt of his father's commands to stay by and watch over his mother.
He could think clearly now, and see that much of that which he had desired to do was impossible. Even if he had set one duty aside, that to the Prince, his master, and let his love for and desire to save his father carry all before them, he could see plainly enough that it was not likely that he would have found Drew Forbes. A visit to the tavern club would certainly have resulted in finding that the occupants were dispersed and the place watched by spies. Then, even if he had found Drew, wherever he and his friends were hiding, it was not likely that they would have altered their plans for any information which he could give them. Everything would have been fixed as they thought best, and no change would have been made.
Clearer still came the thought that he had no information to give them further than that the prisoners would probably be brought into London that evening, which way Captain Murray might know, but he would never depart from his duty so far as to supply the information that it might be conveyed to the King's enemies. He was too loyal for that, gladly as he would strive to save his friend.
It was then with a feeling of relief that Frank sat there by his mother's bed, holding her hand, and thinking that he could do no more, while upon the nurse whispering to him that she would be in the next room if wanted, and leaving him alone, he once more sank upon his knees to rest his head against the bed, and prayed long and fervently in no tutored words, but in those which gushed naturally and simply from his breast, that the lives of those he loved might be spared and the terrible tribulation of the present times might pa.s.s away.
Hour after hour pa.s.sed, and the nurse came in and out softly from time to time, nodding to the watcher and smiling her satisfaction at finding her patient still plunged in a sleep, which, as the day went on, grew more and more profound.