Home > Authors Index > George Manville Fenn > In Honour's Cause: A Tale of the Days of George the First > This page
In Honour's Cause: A Tale of the Days of George the First, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
||
Chapter 33. Frank's Faith |
||
| < Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
|
________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER THIRTY THREE. FRANK'S FAITH Frank went straight to his mother's apartments. "I don't think my lady is well enough to see you to-day, sir," said her woman. "Tell her I must see her," cried the boy passionately; and a few minutes after, looking very white and strange, Lady Gowan entered the room. She looked inquiringly in the boy's eyes, and a faint sob escaped her lips as she caught him in her arms, kissed him passionately, and then laid her head upon his shoulder, while for some minutes she sobbed so violently that the boy dared not speak, but tried to caress her into calmness once more. "Oh, Frank, Frank!" she sighed at last; and he held her more tightly to his breast. "I was obliged to come, mother," he said; "and now that I have come I dare not speak." "Yes, speak, dear, speak; say anything to me now," she sighed. "But it seems so cruel, mother, while you are ill like this!" "Speak, dear, speak. I ought to have sent to you before; but I was so heart-broken, so cowardly and weak, that I dared not confess it even to my own child." "Mother," cried the boy passionately, "it is not true." Lady Gowan heaved a piteous sigh. "The Prince sent for me, thinking I helped Drew Forbes to escape." "Ah! He has escaped?" "Yes, gone to join his father with the rebels; but the Prince believes me now. He asked me first if I were going to join my father with the rebels too." "And--and--what did you say?" faltered Lady Gowan. "I?" cried the boy proudly. "I told him that he had no more faithful servant living than my father, though he was dismissed from the Guards." Lady Gowan uttered a weary sigh once more. "Oh, mother!" cried Frank, "shame on you to believe this miserable lie! How can you be so weak!" "Ah, Frank, Frank, Frank!" she sighed wearily. "It seems too horrible to imagine that you could so readily think such a thing. The Prince believes it, and the Princess too, and she said the news came from you." "Yes, dear, I was obliged to tell her. Frank, my boy, I knew it when I saw you last--when I was in such trouble, and spoke so angrily to you. I could not, oh, I could not tell you then." "No. I am very glad you could not, mother," said the boy firmly. "You cannot, and you shall not, believe it. Can't you see that it is impossible? There, don't speak to me; don't think about it any more. You are weak and ill, and that makes you ready to think things which you would laugh at as absurd at another time. Oh, I wish I had said what I ought to have said to the Prince," he cried excitedly. "I did not think of it then." "What--what would you have said?" cried Lady Gowan, raising her pale, drawn face to gaze in her son's eyes. "That he could soon prove my father's truth by sending him orders to come back and take his place in the regiment." "Ah!" sighed Lady Gowan; and she let her head fall once more upon her son's shoulder. Frank started impatiently. "Oh!" he cried, "and you will go on believing it. There, I can't be angry with you now, you are so ill; but try and believe the truth, mother. Father is the King's servant, and he would not--he could not break his oaths. There, you will see the truth when you get better; and you must, you must get better now. It was this news which made you so ill?" "Yes, my boy, yes," she said, in a faint whisper; "and I blame myself for not going with him. If I had been by his side, he would not have changed." "He has not changed, mother," said the lad firmly. "But how did you get the news?" "It came through Andrew Forbes's father--Mr George Selby, as he calls himself now. He sent it to--to one of the gentlemen in the Palace. I must not mention names." "Ha--ha--ha!" laughed Frank scornfully. "I thought it was some miserable, hatched-up lie. Mr George Selby has been playing a contemptible, spy-like part, trying to gain over people in the Palace. He and his party tried to get me to join them." "You, my boy?" cried Lady Gowan, in wonder; "and you did not tell me." "No; conspiracies are not for women to know anything about," said the boy, talking grandly. "But I did tell my father." "Yes; and what did he say?" "Almost nothing. I forget now, mother. Treated it with contempt. There, I must go now." "Back under arrest?" "Arrest? No, dear. I am the Prince's page, and he knows now that I am no rebel. I am to go back to my duties as if nothing had happened." Lady Gowan uttered a sigh full of relief. "But I'm going to prove first of all how terribly wrong you have been, mother, in believing this miserable scandal. It is because my poor father is down, and everybody is ready to trample upon him. But we'll show them yet. You must be brave, mother, and look and speak as if now you did not believe a word about the story. Do as I will do: go back to your place with the Princess, and hold up your head proudly." "No, no, no, my boy; I have been praying the Princess to let us both go away from the court, for that our position here was horrible." "Ah! and what did she say?" cried Frank excitedly. "That it was impossible; that we were not to blame, and that I was more her friend than ever." "Oh, I do love the Princess!" cried the boy enthusiastically. "There, you see, she does not at heart believe the miserable tale. No, you shall not go away, mother; it would be like owning that it was true. Be brave and good and full of faith. Father said I was to defend you while he was away, and I'm going to--against yourself while you are weak and ill. Oh, what lots of things you've taught me about trying to be brave and upright and true; now I'm going to try and show you that I will. We cannot leave the court; it would be dishonouring father. Good-bye till to-morrow. Oh, mother, how old all this makes me feel." "My own boy!" "Yes, but I don't feel a bit like a boy now, mother. It's just as if I had been here for years. There, once more kiss me--good-bye!" "My darling! But what are you going to do?" "Something to show you that father has been slandered. Good-bye! To-morrow I shall make you laugh for joy." And tearing himself away from his mother's clinging arms, the boy hurried out, down the stairs, and out into the courtyard, full of the plan now in his mind. _ |
||