In Honour's Cause Part 75

The heavy, leaden feeling of despair and disappointment increased as Frank Gowan ran across the courtyard, feeling that it was useless to expect to find Captain Murray, but making for his quarters in the faint hope that he might have been detained, and cudgelling his brains as he ran, to try and find a means of learning the route that the escort would take, so that he might even then try and intercept the prisoners'

carriages.

But no idea, not the faintest gleam of a way out of his difficulty helped him; and he felt ready to fling himself down in his misery and despair, as he reached the officers' quarters.

It was like a mockery to him in his agony to see the sentry, who recognised him, draw himself up, and present arms to his old captain's son, and it checked the question he would have asked the man as to when Captain Murray had pa.s.sed, for he could not speak.

"I must see if he is here," he thought, as he ran up the stairs to the room which had been his prison; and turning the handle of the door, he rushed in and uttered a groan, for the room was, as he had antic.i.p.ated, empty. But the bedroom door was closed, and he darted to that and flung it open.

"Gone! gone! gone!" he groaned. "What shall I do? Will they take him to the Tower?"

He knew that there was no saying what might be the destination of the prisoners; but he rushed back to the staircase, meaning to go straight to the Tower by some means, and then he stopped short and uttered a half hysterical cry, for there was Captain Murray ascending the stairs.

"Not gone?" he cried.

"No; but I am just off. I wish you could have gone with me, Frank. It would have done your poor father good."

"I am going. She wishes it, and sends me."

"Hah! Quick, then. Back to your room."

"Oh, I'm ready," cried the boy.

"Nonsense! We are going to ride. Your boots and sword, boy. I'll lend you a military cloak."

"But it will be losing time," panted Frank.

"It will be gaining it, my boy. You cannot go through a London mob like that. You are going to ride with soldiers, and you must not look like a page at a levee. Quick!"

"You will wait for me?"

"Of course."

Frank ran to his rooms, drew on his high horseman's boots, buckled on his sword, which had been returned to him, and ran back to where Captain Murray was waiting for him with a cloak over his arm.

"No spurs?" he said. "Never mind. You will have a well-trained horse.

I have got pa.s.ses for two, Frank; and, as it happens, I know the officer of the Horse Guards who is in command of the detachment going to meet the escort, so that we can get close up to the prisoners. Let's see: you do ride?"

"Oh yes; my father taught me long ago, anything--bare-backed often enough."

"Good. I am glad, boy. It was sorry work going without you. But I know why it was. Walk quickly; no time to lose."

He hurried his companion to the stables of the Horse Guards, where a couple of the men were waiting, and a horse was ready saddled.

"Quick!" he said to the men. "I shall want the second charger, after all."

It was rapidly growing dark, and one man lit a lanthorn, while the other clapped the bit between the teeth of a handsome black horse, turned the docile creature in its stall, and then slipped on a heavy military saddle with its high-peak holsters and curb-bit.

Five minutes after they were mounted and making for Charing Cross.

"Which way are we going?" asked Frank, whose excitement increased to a feeling of wild exhilaration, as he felt the beautifully elastic creature between his knees, with a sensation of partic.i.p.ating in its strength, and being where he would have a hundred times the chance of getting to speak to his father.

"Up north," said the captain abruptly.

"North? Why not east? They will take him to the Tower."

"No. Steady horse. Walk, walk! Hold yours in, boy. We must go at a slow pace till we get to the top of the lane."

The horses settled down to their walk, almost keeping pace for pace, as the captain said quietly:

"I have got all the information I required. No, they will not take the prisoners to the Tower, but to Newgate."

"Newgate?" cried Frank; "why, that is where the thieves and murderers go."

"Yes," said the captain abruptly. "Look here, Frank. They are not to reach the prison till nine, so we have plenty of time to get some distance out. They will come in by the north road, and I don't think we can miss them."

"Why risk pa.s.sing them?" said Frank.

"Because, if we intercept the escort on the great north road somewhere beyond Highgate, you will be able to ride back near the carriage in which your father is, and, even if you cannot speak to him, you will see him, and be seen."

"But it will be horrible; I shall look like one of the soldiers guarding him to his cell."

"Never mind what you look like, so long as your father sees that he is not forgotten by those who love him."

The captain ceased speaking, and their horses picked their way over the stones, their hoofs clattering loudly, and making the people they pa.s.sed turn to stare after the two military-looking cavaliers in c.o.c.ked hat and horseman's cloak, and with the lower parts of their scabbards seen below to show that they were well armed.

Saint Martin's Church clock pointed to seven as they rode by; and then, well acquainted with the way, the captain made for the north-east, breaking into a trot as they reached the open street where the traffic was small, Frank's well-trained horse keeping step with its stable companion; and by the shortest cuts that could be made they reached Islington without seeing a sign of any unusual excitement, so well had the secret been kept of the coming of the prisoners that night.

"Not much sign of a crowd to meet them, Frank," said the captain, as they went now at a steady trot along the upper road. "Pretty good proof that we are in time."

"Why, what is a good sign?" asked Frank.

"So few people about. If the prisoners and their escort had pa.s.sed, half Islington would have been out gossiping at their doors."

"Suppose they have come some other way?"

"Not likely. This was to be their route, and at half-past eight two troops of Horse Guards will march up the road to meet the escort at Islington. That will bring out the crowd."

Frank winced as if he had suddenly felt the p.r.i.c.k of a knife, so sharp was the spasm which ran through him. For the moment he had quite forgotten the prospect of an attempt at rescue; now the mention of the soldiery coming to meet the unhappy prisoners and strengthen the escort brought all back, and with it the questioning thought:

"Would Drew's friends make the venture when so strong a force would be there?"

"No--yes--no--yes," his heart seemed to beat; then the rattle of the horses' hoofs took it up--no, yes, no, yes; and now it seemed to be the time to tell Captain Murray of the attempt that was to be made, or rather that was planned.

"And if I tell him he will feel that it is his duty as a soldier to warn the officer in command of the escort, and he will take them at a sharp trot round by some other way. Oh, I can't tell him! It would be like robbing my father of his last chance."

Frank felt more and more that his lips were sealed; and as to the danger which Murray would incur--well, he was a soldier well mounted, and he must run the risk.

"As I shall," thought Frank. "It will be no worse for him than for me.