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In Honour's Cause: A Tale of the Days of George the First, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 11. Another Invitation |
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_ CHAPTER ELEVEN. ANOTHER INVITATION Several days passed, and at each fresh meeting Andrew Forbes looked at his fellow-page inquiringly, as if asking whether he had spoken out yet; but the lad's manner was sufficient to show that he had not, though Frank was very cool and distant when they were alone. Then Andrew began to banter his companion. "Head's all right yet," he said one morning, laughing; and he gave it a slow twirl round like a ball in a socket. "Feels a bit loose sometimes; not at all a pleasant sensation. You're all right still, I see. Felt a bit nervous about you, though, once or twice." Frank frowned slightly; but Andrew went on. "I noticed one of us trying the point of his sword; and twice over after dark I saw men watching this window, and that made me think that you must have spoken, especially as I saw Lady--well, never mind names-- examining something she had drawn out of the bosom of her dress. She slipped it back as soon as she saw me, but I feel certain that it was a sort of bodkin or stiletto. 'That's meant for poor Frank,' I said to myself; for, you know, in history women have often done work of that kind. But, there, you don't seem to have any holes in you; so I suppose you are all right for the present." "How can you joke about so serious a matter?" cried Frank. "Because I want to put an end to this miserable pique between us," cried Andrew warmly. "It's absurd, and I hate it. I thought we were to be always friends. I can't bear it, Frank, for I do like you." "It was your doing," said the lad coldly. "No. It was the wretched state our country is in that did it all." "You always get the better of me in arguments," said Frank, "so I am not going to fight with you in that way. But I know I am right." "And I know that I am right," cried Andrew. "I shall not, as I said before, try to argue with you. We could never agree." "No; it wants some one else to judge between us, and I'll tell you who's the man." "I don't see how we can speak about our troubles." "No need to," said Andrew. "He'll know all about it. Let's leave it to old Father Time. He proves all things. But, I say, Frank, don't be obstinate. There's a meeting of the friends the day after to-morrow. You'll come with me if we can get away?" "I shall do all I can to stop you from going!" cried Frank. "By betraying me?" "No; I can't do that. I promised to be your friend; and though it may be my duty, I couldn't do such a treacherous thing." "As if I didn't know," said Andrew, laying his arm on the lad's shoulder. "Do you think I would have been so open if I had not been sure of you? There, you will come?" "Never again." "Never's a long time, Frank. Come." "Once more, no!" "To take care of me, and keep me from being too rash." "I can't betray you and your friends," said Frank sadly; "but I can do all that is possible to save you from a great danger." "And so can I you. I'm right." "No; I am right." "You think so now; but I know you will come round. In the meantime, thank you, Frank. I knew, I say, that you would be staunch; but I'll tell you this: a word now from you would mean the breaking up of that party in the city, and, unless I could warn them in time, the seizure and perhaps death of many friends, and amongst them of one whom I love. I told him everything about you, and of our friendship, and it was he who bade me to bring you out in the Park there, so that he might see you first, and judge for himself whether he should like you to join us." "You mean Mr George Selby?" "Yes, I mean Mr George Selby," said Andrew, with a peculiar smile and emphasis on his words. "It was a very risky thing for him to come here close to the Palace with so many spies about; but throwing biscuits to the ducks was throwing dust in the people's eyes as well." "Yes. I felt that it was a trick," said Frank sadly. "Obliged to stoop to tricks now, my lad. Well, he was delighted with you, and told me how glad he was for me to have such a friend. He says you must be of us, Frank, so that in the good times ahead you may be one of the friends of the rightful king. You'll like Mr George Selby." "I hate him," said Frank warmly, "for leading you astray, and for trying to lead me in the same evil way." "Tchut! Some one coming." The "some one" proved to be the Prince with a train of gentlemen, nearly all of whom were Germans, and they passed through the anteroom on their way out. "See that tall, light-haired fellow?" said Andrew, as soon as they were alone again. "The German baron?" "Yes, the one in uniform." "Yes. He's the Baron Steinberg, a colonel in the Hanoverian Guards." "That's the man. He came over on Saturday. Well, I hate him." "Why? Because he's a German?" "Pooh! I shouldn't hate a man because he was a foreigner. I hate him because he's an overbearing bully, who looks down on everything English. He quite insulted me yesterday, and I nearly drew upon him. But I didn't." "What did he do?" "Put his hand upon my shoulder, and pushed me aside. 'Out of the way, booby!' he said in German. A rude boor!" "Oh, it was his rough way, perhaps. You mustn't take any notice of that." "Mustn't I?" exclaimed Andrew. "We shall see. That isn't all. I hate him for another thing." "You're a queer fellow, Drew. I think you divide the world into two sets--those you hate and those you love." "And a good division too. But these German fellows want teaching a lesson, and somebody will be teaching it if they don't mend. Oh! I hate that fellow, and so ought you to." "Why? Because he is a German?" "Not for that. I'll tell you. I didn't see you yesterday, or I'd have told you then. You were in the big reception-room?" "When my father was on duty with his company of the Guards?" "Yes, and your mother was in the Princess's train." "Yes, and I didn't get one chance to speak to her." "Well, that fellow did; he spoke to her twice, and I saw him staring at her insolently nearly all the time the Princess and her ladies were there." "Well?" "That is all," said Andrew shortly. "They'll be at her drawing-room this afternoon, and if I were you I should go and stop near Lady Gowan as much as I could." "I should like to," said Frank, looking at his friend wonderingly; "but of course I can't go where I like." A few minutes later one of the servants brought in a note and handed it to Frank, who opened it eagerly. "No answer," he said to the man; and then he turned to his companion. "Read," he said. "From my father." "'Come and dine at the mess this evening, and bring Andrew Forbes,'" read the lad, and he flushed with pleasure. "Of course you will not come," said Frank mockingly. "You could not be comfortable with such a loyal party." "With such a host as Captain Sir Robert Gowan!" cried Andrew. "Oh yes, I could. I like him." He smiled rather meaningly, and then the conversation turned upon the treat to come, both lads being enthusiastic about everything connected with the military. This was broken into by the same servant entering with another note. "My turn now, Frank," said Andrew merrily; "but who's going to write to me?" To his annoyance, as he turned to take the note, the man handed it to Frank and left the antechamber. "Well, you seem to be somebody," cried Andrew, who now looked nettled. "From my mother," said Frank, after glancing through the missive. "Lucky you; mother and father both here. My poor father nowhere, hiding about like a thief. Talk about friends at court!" "It does seem hard for you," said Frank. "See what she says." "H'm! 'So sorry not to be able to speak to you yesterday. Come to my rooms for an hour before the reception this afternoon. I long to see you, my dear boy.'" Andrew handed back the letter with a sigh. "Lucky you, Frank. I say, don't repeat what I said about yesterday." "Of course not." "That's right. Men talk about things when they are alone which would frighten ladies. She might get thinking that I should get up a quarrel with that Steinberg." "I'm sure my mother wouldn't think anything of the sort," said Frank, smiling at his friend's conceit. "Oh, I don't know," said Andrew importantly. "Yes I do, though. It was a rather stupid remark. But I wish I were you, Frank," he continued, with a genuine unspoiled boyish light coming into his eyes, which looked wistful and longing. "Perhaps, if I had a mother and father here in the court, I should be as loyal as you are." "Of course you would be. Well, they like you. You're coming to dine with my father to-night, and I wish I could take you with me to see my mother early this afternoon." "Do you--do you really, Frank?" cried the lad eagerly. "Of course I do; you know I always say what I mean." "Then thank you," cried the lad warmly; "that's almost as good as going." "I'll ask her to invite you next time. Hallo! where are you off to?" "Only to my room for a bit." "What for? Anything the matter?" "Matter? Pish! Well, yes. I'm thinking I'd better be off, for fear, instead of my converting you, you'll be taking advantage of my weakness, offering me a share in Sir Robert and Lady Gowan for a bribe, and converting me." "I wish I could," said Frank to himself, as his companion hurried out of the room. "Why not? Suppose I were to take my mother into my confidence, and ask her to try and win him away from what is sure to end in a great trouble!" _ |
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