In Honour's Cause Part 38

"Wouldn't you like a light, Sir Robert? I saw yours was out."

"Yes," came from close to where Frank stood with his hands turning wet in the darkness, and then he felt his father brush by him, the door was unlocked, and the housekeeper's white face was seen lit up by the candle she carried.

"Thank you, Berry," said Sir Robert; and he took the candle and relocked the door after the woman.

The light dazzled Frank for a few minutes, and then he was gazing wonderingly in his father's face, to see that it was thin and careworn, while the lines in his forehead were deepened.

His sword and pistols lay upon the table close to some sheets of paper, the inkstand showing that he had been writing when he was interrupted by his visitor; and the boy noticed, too, that there was a heavy cloak over a chair back, and the curtains were very closely drawn.

"Don't look so smart as in the old days, Frank, eh?" said Sir Robert, with a sad smile.

"You look like my father," said the boy firmly.

"And you like my son," cried Sir Robert, patting the boy's head.

"Then you really would not like me to venture to ask the King, father?"

Sir Robert pointed to a chair close by his own, and they sat down, the father still retaining his boy's hand.

"No, Frank," he said gravely. "I should not now. It is too late."

"But it would mean bringing you back, father."

"I am not a clever man, Frank lad," said Sir Robert. "I am fair as a soldier, and I know my duties pretty well; but when we get into the maze of politics and social matters, I am afraid that I am very stupid.

Here, however, I seem to see in a dim sort of way that such a thing as you propose would be only weak and romantic. It sounds very nice, but it would only be raising your hopes and--Stop. Does your mother know that you think of doing this?"

"Oh no, father; the doctor only just suggested it--now that Steinberg has recovered."

"Very good of the doctor, and I am deeply in his debt for saving that wretched German baron's life. Not pleasant to have known that you had killed a man in a quarrel, Frank."

"Horrible, father!" said the boy emphatically.

"Yes, horrible, lad. But the doctor is a better man at wounds than he is at giving counsel. No, Frank, under any circ.u.mstances it would not have done. King George is too hard and matter-of-fact a man of the world to be stirred by my boy's appeal. His German folk would look upon it as weakness, and would be offended. He cannot afford to offend the German people, for he has no real English friends, and between the two stools he'd be afraid of coming to the ground. No, you shall not humble yourself to do this; and," he said firmly, "it is too late."

There was something so commanding in the way these last words were said that Frank drew a deep sigh of regret, and the hopeful vision faded away behind the cloud his father drew over it. But the minutes were precious, and he could not afford time to regret the das.h.i.+ng of his hopes, when he had him for whose benefit they were designed sitting there holding his hand.

"Then you are going to stay here now, father?" he said.

"Here? No, Frank. It is only a temporary hiding-place. I shall be off to-morrow."

"Where to, father?"

"Humph! Don't know for certain, my boy. As you say, the place swarms with spies, and though I have had to give up my gay uniform, plenty of people know my face, and I don't even feel now that they are not hunting me down."

"But if they did, what would happen?"

"A fight, Frank--don't tell your mother this; she suffers enough. I can't afford to be captured, and--you know what they do with the poor wretches they take?"

Frank s.h.i.+vered, and glanced at his father's sword and pistols.

"Loaded, father?" he said in a whisper. "Yes, boy."

"And is your sword sharp?"

"As sharp as the cutler could make it. And I know how to use it, Frank; but a man who carries a sword--if he is a man--is like a bee with its sting; he will not use it save at the last extremity. You must remember that with yours."

"Yes, father. But do think again; we are both so unhappy there at the court."

"What, in the midst of luxury and show!" said Sir Robert banteringly.

"Pah! What is the use of all that when we know that you are driven away and dare not show your face? Oh, do think again. Can't you let us come and join you?"

"It is impossible, my boy. Don't press me. I have too many troubles as it is. Look here, Frank; you are growing fast into a man, and you must try to help me as you did just now when I turned weak and foolish. The intense longing to see your mother was too much for me, but I have mastered it. You two are safe and well-cared for at the Palace, where the Princess is your mother's friend. I am n.o.body now, and what I do will not count as regards your mother and you. So try and be content, and stay."

"But you, father? Surely the King will forgive you soon."

"Never, boy," said Sir Robert sternly. "So be careful. A hint dropped of my whereabouts would give your mother intense suffering and dread for my life; so she must not know."

"But your friends, father? Captain Murray--the doctor. Every one likes you."

"They must not know, so be cautious. I feel quite a young man, Frank, and don't want to have my life shortened, nor my body neither," he added, with a grim smile.

"Oh, father!" cried the boy, with a shudder.

"We must look the worst in the face, Frank. By my return here my life is forfeit, and the King's people would be justified in shooting me down."

"Oh, but, father, this is horrible."

"Not to a soldier, Frank," said Sir Robert, smiling. "Soldiers get used to being shot at, and they don't mind so much, because they know how hard it is for any one to hit a mark. There, you are warned now, so let's talk of pleasanter things."

"Yes, of course, father; but I may come and see you again often?"

"If you wish to see me taken."

Frank shuddered again.

"No. This must be your only visit. I am glad you have come; but I can't afford to indulge in good things now."

"You are going to stay in England, father?" cried Frank anxiously.

"I don't know."

"What are you going to do?"

"That I cannot tell either, my boy; and if I did know, for your mother's and your peace of mind I would not tell you."

"That isn't trusting me, father," said Frank gloomily.