Chapter 23. More About The Ducks

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_ CHAPTER TWENTY THREE. MORE ABOUT THE DUCKS

The news was all over the Palace the next morning; but before meeting Andrew Forbes, Frank hurried to his mother's apartments, to find her dressed, but lying down, her maid saying that she was very ill, but that she would see Mr Gowan.

"I thought you would come, my boy," said Lady Gowan, embracing him. "Oh, my darling, what a horrible night! Tell me again all about your father's escape."

"You're not well enough, mother," said the boy bluntly. "It will only agitate you more. Isn't it enough that I helped him to get safe away without any accident?"

"Yes, yes, you are right," said Lady Gowan. "But how rash, how mad of him to come! Frank, remember that you must not breathe a word about how it was that I was able to warn him."

"I see," said Frank; "it would make mischief."

"And this has undone all that I was trying to do. He might have been forgiven in time; now we shall have to wait perhaps for years."

"Then don't let's wait, mother. He says that we should have to suffer terribly if we shared his lot with him. But who cares? I shouldn't a bit, and I'm sure you wouldn't mind."

"I, my boy?" cried Lady Gowan passionately. "I'd gladly lead the humblest life with him, so that we could be at peace."

"Very well, then; let's go."

Lady Gowan shook her head.

"We must respect your father's wishes, Frank," she said sadly. "No; we must stay as we are till we are ordered to leave here, or your father bids us come."

"There," said the boy, "I was right. You must not talk about it any more; it only makes you cry. Never mind what happened last night. He has got safely away."

"But if he should venture again, my boy," sobbed Lady Gowan.

"Never mind about _ifs_, mother. Of course he longed to see us, and he ran the risk, so as to be near. I should have done the same, if I had been like he is. There, now you lie still and read all day. He won't run any more risks, so as not to frighten you. I must go now."

Lady Gowan clung to her son for a few minutes, and then he hurried away, to find Andrew Forbes in the courtyard.

"Ah, I was right!" he said. "I went to your rooms, thinking I should catch you; but you were up and off. I thought this would be where you had come. But, I say, I thought we were friends."

"Well, so we are."

"Don't seem like it, for you to go and have a jolly night of adventures like that, and leave me out in the cold."

"I couldn't help it, Drew," said Frank apologetically.

"Yes, you could. I smell a rat now. I thought you turned very queer when we were by your house yesterday. Then you saw him at one of the windows?"

Frank looked at him frowningly, and then nodded his head.

"And never told me! Well, this is being a friend! I would have trusted you. But, I say, it was grand. I've just seen Captain Murray and the doctor. They were together in the captain's room. They wouldn't say so, of course, but they were delighted to hear he got away, though they say they wouldn't wonder if you were dismissed."

"I don't care, if my mother has to leave too."

"Ah! but the Princess wouldn't let her go. I say, how do you feel now?"

"Very miserable," said Frank sadly.

"Nonsense! You mean not so precious loyal as you were."

"If you are going to begin about that business again, I am going," said Frank coldly.

"I've done. I'm satisfied. You'll be as eager on the other side some day, Frank; and I like you all the better for being so staunch as you are. As my father says, it makes you the better worth winning."

"When did your father say that?" cried Frank sharply.

"Never mind. Perhaps he wrote it to me. You can't expect me to be quite open with you if you're not with me. But, I say," cried the lad enthusiastically, "it's grand!"

"What is?"

"For us to be both with our fathers banished. Why, Frank, it's like making heroes of us."

"Making geese of us! What nonsense!"

"Just as you like; but I shall feel what I please. I never did see such a fellow as you are, though. You have no more romance in you than a big drum. But, I say, tell us all about it."

With a little pressing Frank told him all, the narrative being given, in an undertone, and after a faithful promise of secrecy, on one of the benches under a tree in the Park, while Andrew sat with his fingers interlaced and nipped between his knees, flushed of face, his eyes flashing, and his teeth set.

"Oh," he cried at last, "I wish I had been there, and it had come to a fight."

"What good would that have done?" said Frank.

"Oh, I don't know; but what a night! It was glorious! And to think that all the while I was moping alone over a stupid book, while you were enjoying yourself like that."

"Enjoying myself!" cried Frank scornfully.

"Yes, enjoying yourself. There, with your sword out, defending your beautiful mother from the Guards, after saving your father's life, and keeping the castle--house, I mean--against the men who were battering down the gate--door."

"Well," said Frank drily, "if I have no more romance in me than there is in a big drum, you have."

"I should think I have!" cried the lad, whose handsome, effeminate face was scarlet with his excitement. "Why, you cold-blooded, stony-hearted old countryman, can't you see that you were doing man's work, and having glorious adventures?"

"No; only that it was very horrible," said Frank, with his brow all in lines.

"Bah! I don't believe you felt like that. What a chance! What a time to have! All the luck coming to you, and I'm obliged to lead the life of a palace lapdog, when I want to be a soldier fighting for my king."

"Wait till you get older," said Frank. "I wanted to be a man last night."

"Why, you were a man. It was splendid!" cried Andrew enthusiastically.

"I wasn't a man, and it wasn't splendid," said Frank sadly. "I felt all right then; but when I woke this morning, I seemed to see myself standing there in our drawing-room, with my sword in one hand and the big silver candlestick in the other, and I felt that I must have looked very ridiculous, and that the young officer and the men with him must have laughed at me."

"Er-r-err!" growled Andrew; "I haven't patience with you, Franky. You're too modest by half--modest as a great girl. No, you're not; no girl could have behaved like you did. I only wish I had had the chance to be there. Ridiculous indeed! Very ridiculous to help your father to escape as you did, 'pon my honour. Oh yes, very ridiculous! I want to be as ridiculous as that every day of my life; and if it isn't playing the man--"

"Yes, that's it," said Frank gloomily,--"playing the man, when one's only a boy."

"Bah! Hold your tongue, stupid. You don't know yet what you did do. But, I say, that was ridiculous, if you like."

"What was?" said Frank, starting.

"Climbing up the roof to hide the rope, and stuffing it down the next-door chimney. I say: I wonder what the people thought."

Frank smiled now.

"Well, that does seem comic."

"It was glorious. But they'll never know. They'll think the sweeps must have left it when the chimney was last swept. But I suppose you've heard about Lieutenant Brayley's report?"

"No, not a word. I went as soon as I was dressed to see how my mother was."

"Oh, I heard from Murray. He reported that it was a false alarm, and that Sir Robert could not have been there, for he had the house well watched back and front, and all the approaches to the houses adjoining. Oh, I do enjoy getting the better of the other side. And, I say, every one's delighted that he escaped, if he was there; but I hope he won't get taken. Tell him to mind, Franky, for every place swarms with spies, and that it's next to impossible to get out of the country. Oh, I wouldn't have him taken for all the world."

"Thank ye," said Frank warmly; "but how am I to tell him that?"

Andrew turned and gave his companion a peculiar smiling look.

"Of course," he said merrily, "how can you tell him? He did not tell you how to write to him--oh, no; nor where to find the letters he sent to you. Oh, no; he wouldn't do that. Not at all likely, is it?"

Frank turned white.

"How did you know that?" he said hoarsely.

"Because I'm rowing in the same boat, Franky. Why, of course he did. Now, didn't he?"

The boy nodded.

"So did my father, of course. There, I'm going to thoroughly trust you, if you don't me. I'd trust you with anything, because I can feel that you couldn't go wrong. I don't want you to tell me where your father told you to write, or what name he is going to take, or how you are to get his letters, for of course he couldn't write to the Palace. But he told you how to communicate with him, I do know, Frank. It was a matter of course with your father like that. I say, what do you think of a tin box in a hollow tree in the Park, where you can bury it in the touchwood when you go to feed the ducks?"

"That would be a good way of course," said Frank; "but no, it isn't like that."

"What, for you and your father? Who said it was? I meant for me and mine."

"What! Feed the ducks! Drew!" cried Frank excitedly.

"Yes; what's the matter?"

"Feed the ducks?"

"Yes, feed the ducks!"

"You don't mean to tell me that--that--"

"Mr George Selby is my father? Of course I do."

"Oh!" ejaculated Frank in astonishment.

"Isn't it fine?" cried Andrew. "He comes and feeds the ducks--his Majesty King George's ducks--and the precious spies stand and watch him; and sometimes he has a chance to see me, and sometimes he hasn't, and then he leaves a note for me in the old tree, for he says it's the only pleasure he has in his solitary exiled life."

"Oh, Drew!" cried Frank warmly.

"Yes, poor old chap. I'm not worth thinking about so much, only I suppose I'm something like what poor mother was, and he likes it, or he wouldn't leave all his plots and plans for getting poor James Francis on the throne to come risking arrest. They'd make short work of him, Frank, if they knew--head shorter. I shall tell him I've told you. But I know what he'll say."

"That you were much to blame," said Frank eagerly.

"Not he. He'll trust you, as I do. He likes you, Frank. He told me he liked you all the better for being so true to your principles, and that he was very glad to find that I had made friends with you. There, now you can tell me as much as you like. Nothing at all, if you think proper; but I shall trust you as much as you'll let me, my lad. There, it's time to go in. I want to hear more about what they're doing. As they know that your father has been seen, they'll be more strict than ever. But let's go round by your old house."

"No, no," said Frank, with a shudder.

"Better go.--Come, don't shiver like that. You were a man last night; be one now."

"Come along then," said Frank firmly; and they walked sharply round by the end of the canal, and back along the opposite side toward Westminster, passing several people on the way, early as the hour was.

"Don't seem to notice any one," said Andrew; "and walk carelessly and openly, just as if you were going--as we are--to look at your old house where the adventure was."

"Why?"

"Because several of the people we pass will be spies. I don't want to put you all in a fidget; but neither you nor your mother will be able to stir now without being watched."

"Do you think so?" said Frank, who felt startled.

"Sure of it. There, that's doing just what I told you not to do, opening your mouth like a bumpkin for the flies to jump down your throat, and making your eyes look dark all round like two burnt holes in a blanket. Come along. You mustn't mind anything now. I don't: I'm used to it. Let 'em see that you don't care a rush, and that they may watch you as much as they please. Now don't say anything to me, only walk by me, and we'll go by the Park front of your place. I want to have a quiet stare at the tops of the houses and at the corner where your father slipped down the rope."

Frank obeyed his companion, and they walked on, seeing no one in particular, save an elderly man with a very bad cough, who stopped from time to time to rest upon his crutch-handled stick, and indulge in a long burst of coughing, interspersing it with a great many "Oh dears!" and groans. They left him behind, as they passed the last tall house, where Frank shuddered as he saw the upright leaden stack, the hole in the parapet, where the rope was tied, and the garden beneath.

The boy turned hot as he went over the whole adventure again and thought the same thoughts. Then he glanced sharply through the iron railings in search of footmarks, but saw none, for Andrew uttered a warning "Take care," and he looked straight before him again as he went out by the Park gate, and turned back and through the streets till they reached the front of the house, where men were nailing up boards, and a couple of soldiers stood on duty, marching up and down, as if some royal personage were within.

Frank glanced at the workmen, and would have increased his pace, but Andrew had hold of his arm and kept him back.

"Don't hurry," he said quietly; and then lightly to one of the sentries, "Got some prisoners inside, my man?"

The sentry grinned, and gave his head a side wise nod toward Frank.

"Ask this young gentleman, sir; he knows."

Frank flushed scarlet, as he turned sharply to the man, whom he now recognised as one of the Guards who entered the drawing-room with the officer.

"Ah, to be sure," said Andrew coolly; and nodding carelessly, he went on and out by the gate into the Park at the end of the street, where the old man they had previously seen was holding on by the railings coughing violently.

"Poor old gentleman!" said Andrew sarcastically, but loud enough for him to hear; "he seems to be suffering a good deal from that cough."

The man bent his head lower till his brow rested on the hand which held on by the railings, and coughed more than ever.

"You needn't have made remarks about him," whispered Frank. "I'm afraid he heard what you said."

"I meant him to hear," said Andrew loudly; and he stopped and looked back directly. "A miserable, contemptible impostor. I could cure his wretched cough in two minutes with that stick he leans on."

The man started as if he had received a blow, and raised his head to glare fiercely at the youth, who was looking him superciliously up and down.

"Look at him, Frank," continued Andrew; "did you ever see such a miserable, hangdog-looking cur?"

Frank felt in agony, and gripped his companion by the arm.

"Did you mean that to insult me, boy?" said the man angrily.

"Done it without the stick," said Andrew, not appearing to notice the man's words. "You see a good lash from the tongue was enough. Now, can you imagine it possible that any one could sink so low as to earn his living by watching his fellow-creatures, spying their every act, and then betraying them for the sake of a few dirty shillings, to send them to prison or to the gibbet? There can be nothing on earth so base as a thing like this. Why, a footpad is a nobleman compared to him."

"You insolent young puppy!" cried the man; and entirely forgetful of his infirmity, he took three or four paces toward them, with his stick raised to strike.

Frank's hand darted to his sword, but Andrew did not stir. He stood with his lids half closed and his lips compressed, staring firmly at his would-be assailant, never flinching for a moment, nor removing his eyes from those which literally glowed with anger.

"The cough's gone, Frank, and the disguise might as well go with it. He is not an invalid, but one of the vile, treacherous ruffians in the pay of the Government. Let your blade alone; he daren't strike, for fear of having a sword through his miserable carcass. He was dressed as a sailor the other day, and he looked as if he had never had a foot at sea. He has been hanging about the Park for the past month. Pah! look at the contemptible worm."

The miserable spy and informer, who had remained with his stick raised, turned white with passion, as he stood listening to the lad's scathing words, and had either of the boys flinched he might have struck at them. As it was, he uttered a fierce imprecation, let the point of his stick drop to the ground, and turned away to hobble for a few steps, and, as if from habit, began to cough; but Andrew burst into a bitter laugh, and with a fierce oath the man turned again and shook his stick at him before ceasing his cough and walking sharply away, erect and vigorous as any.

"Well," said Andrew, "do you think I insulted him too much?"

"Why, he is an impostor!"

"Pah! London swarms with his kind. They have sent many a good, true, and innocent man to Tyburn for the sake of blood-money--men whose only fault was that they believed James Francis to be our rightful king. Frank," cried the lad passionately, "I can't tell you how I loathe the reptiles. I knew that wretch directly; my father pointed him out to me as one to beware of. If he knew what we do, he would send my dear, brave father to the scaffold, and he is trying hard to send yours. Where's your pity for the poor invalid now?"

"Oh!" ejaculated Frank excitedly, "can such things be true?"

"True? Why was he dogging us this morning? I can't be sure, of course; but as likely as not it was upon his information that your poor father was almost taken last night, and your mother nearly broken-hearted this morning. Why, Frank, I never saw you look so fierce before. It's all nonsense about my being two years older than you. You've overtaken and passed me, lad. I'm getting quite afraid of you."

"Oh, don't banter me now, Drew. I can't bear it."

"It's only my spiteful tongue, Frank. I don't banter you at heart. I'm in earnest. Only a short time ago I used to think I was as old as a man, and it was trouble about my father made me so. Now I can't help seeing how trouble is altering you too. Don't mind what I say, but I must say it. Some day you'll begin to think that I am not so much to blame for talking as I do about our royal master."

Frank drew a long, deep breath, and felt as if it might after all be possible.

"There, that's enough for one morning," cried Andrew merrily. "We're only boys after all, even if I am such a queer fish. Let's be boys again now. What do you say? I'll race you round the end of the canal, and see who can get in first to breakfast."

"No," said Frank; "I want to walk back quietly and think."

"And I don't mean to let you. There, we've had trouble enough before breakfast. Let's put it aside, and if we can get away go and see the Horse Guards parade, and then listen to the band and see some of the drilling. I want to learn all I can about an officer's duty, so as not to be like a raw recruit when I get my commission, if I ever do. I say: hungry?"

"I? No."

"Then you must be. Make a good breakfast, lad. Sir Robert's safe enough by now, and he'll be more cautious in future about coming amongst his Majesty's springes and mantraps. Look yonder; there's Captain Murray. Who's that with him?"

"The doctor."

"So it is. Let's go and talk to them."

"No; let them go by before we start for the gate. I feel as if every one will be knowing about last night, and want to question me. I wish I could go away till it has all blown over."

"But you can't, Frank; and you must face it out like a man. I say--"

"Well?"

"You're not likely to see the King, and if you did it's a chance if he'd know who you are; but you're sure to see the Prince, and I am a bit anxious to know whether he'll take any notice about what his page did last night, and if he does, what he'll say."

"I'm pretty well sure to see him this afternoon," said Frank gloomily; "and if he questions me I can't tell him a lie. What shall I say?"

"I'll tell you," said Andrew merrily.

"Yes? What?"

"Say nothing. He can't make you speak."

"Then he'll be angry, and it will be fresh trouble for my mother."

"I don't believe he will be," said Andrew. "Well, don't spoil your breakfast about something which may never happen. Wait and see. The worst he could do would be to have you dismissed; and if he does he'll dismiss me too, for I shan't stop here, Frank, unless my father says I must." _

Read next: Chapter 24. With Prince And Princess

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