In Honour's Cause Part 1

In Honour's Cause.

by George Manville Fenn.

CHAPTER ONE.

TWO YOUNG COURTIERS.

"Ha--ha--ha--ha!"

A regular ringing, hearty, merry laugh--just such an outburst of mirth as a strong, healthy boy of sixteen, in the full, bright, happy time of youth, and without a trouble on his mind, can give vent to when he sees something that thoroughly tickles his fancy.

Just at the same time the heavy London clouds which had been hanging all the morning over the Park opened a little to show the blue sky, and a broad ray of suns.h.i.+ne struck in through the anteroom window and lit up the gloomy, handsome chamber.

Between them--the laugh and the suns.h.i.+ne--they completely transformed the place, as the lad who laughed threw himself into a chair, and then jumped up again in a hurry to make sure that he had not snapped in two the sword he wore in awkward fas.h.i.+on behind him.

The lad's companion, who seemed to be about a couple of years older, faced round suddenly from the other end of the room, glanced sharply at one of the doors, and then said hurriedly:

"I say, you mustn't laugh like that here."

"It isn't broken," said he who had helped to make the solemn place look more cheerful.

"What, your sword? Lucky for you. I told you to take care how you carried it. Easy enough when you are used to one."

The speaker laid his left hand lightly on the hilt of his own, pressed it down a little, and stood in a stiff, deportment-taught att.i.tude, as if asking the other to study him as a model.

"But you mustn't burst out into guffaws like that in the Palace."

"Seems as if you mustn't do anything you like here," said the younger lad. "Wish I was back at Winchester."

"Pooh, schoolboy! I shall have enough to do before I make anything of you."

"You never will. I'm sick of it already: no games, no runs down by the river or over the fields; nothing to do but dress up in these things, and stand like an image all day. I feel just like a pet monkey in a cage."

"And look it," said the other contemptuously.

"What!" said the boy, flus.h.i.+ng up to the temples, as he took a step toward the speaker, and with flas.h.i.+ng eyes looked him up and down.

"Well, if you come to that, so do you, with your broad skirts, salt-box pockets, lace, and tied-up hair. See what thin legs you've got too!"

"You insolent--No, I didn't mean that;" and an angry look gave place to a smile. "Lay your feathers down, Master Frank Gowan, and don't draw Master Frank Gowan, and don't draw your skewer; that's high treason in the King's Palace. You mustn't laugh here when you're on duty. If there's any fighting to be done, they call in the guard; and if any one wants to quarrel, he must go somewhere else."

"I don't want to quarrel," said the boy, rather sulkily. "You did a moment ago, for all your hackles were sticking up like a gamec.o.c.k's."

"Well, I don't now, Drew," said the boy, smiling frankly; "but the place is all so stiff and formal and dull, and I can't help wanting to be back in the country. I used to think one was tied down there at the school, but that was free liberty to this."

"Oh, you young barbarian! School and the country! Right enough for boys."

"Well, we're boys."

The other coughed slightly, took a measured pace or two right and left, and gave a furtive glance at his handsome, effeminate face and slight form in the gla.s.s. Then he said, rather haughtily:

"You are, of course; but I should have thought that you might have begun to look upon me as a man."

"Oh, I will, if you like," said the other, smiling,--"a very young one, though. Of course you're ever so much older than I am. But there, I'm going to try and like it; and I like you, Forbes, for being so good to me. I'm not such a fool as not to know that I'm a sort of un-licked cub, and you will go on telling me what I ought, to do and what I oughtn't. I can play games as well as most fellows my age; but all this stiff, starchy court etiquette sickens me."

"Yes," said his companion, with a look of disgust on his face; "miserable, clumsy Dutch etiquette. As different from the grand, graceful style of the old _regime_ and of Saint Germains as chalk is from cheese."

"I say," said the younger of the pair merrily, after imitating his companion's glances at the doors, "you must not talk like that here."

"Talk like what?" said the elder haughtily.

"Calling things Dutch, and about Saint Germains. I say, isn't that high treason?"

"Pooh!--Well, yes, I suppose you're right. Your turn now. But we won't quarrel, Franky."

"Then, don't call me that," said the boy sharply; "Frank, if you like.

I did begin calling you Drew. It's shorter and better than Andrew. I say, I am ever so much obliged to you."

"Don't mention it. I promised Sir Robert I would look after you."

"Yes, my father told me."

"And I like Lady Gowan. She's as nice as she is handsome. My mother was something like her."

"Then she must have been one of the dearest, sweetest, and best ladies that ever lived," cried the boy warmly.

"Thank ye, Frank," said the youth, smiling and laying his arm in rather an affected manner upon the speaker's shoulder, as he crossed his legs and again posed himself with his left hand upon his sword hilt. But there was no affectation in the tone of the thanks expressed; in fact, there was a peculiar quiver in his voice and a slight huskiness of which he was self-conscious, and he hurriedly continued:

"Oh yes, I like you. I did at first; you seemed so fresh and daisy-like amongst all this heavy Dutch formality. I'll tell you everything; and if you can't have the country, I'll see that you do have some fun.

We'll go out together, and you must see my father. He's a fine, das.h.i.+ng officer; he ought to have had a good command given him. I say, Frank, he's great friends with Sir Robert."

"Is he? My father never said so."

"Mine did; but--er--I think there are reasons just now why they don't want it to be known. You see your father's in the King's Guards."

"Yes."

"Well, and mine isn't. He is not very fond of the House of Brunswick."

"I say, mind what you are saying."

"Of course. I shouldn't say it to any one else. But, I say, what made you burst put into that roar of laughter about nothing?"

"It wasn't about nothing," said Frank, with a mirthful look in his eyes.

"What was it then? See anything out of the window?"

"Oh no; it was in this room."