In Honour's Cause Part 9

"Ha--ha--ha! Flattering again. Why, Frank, I sometimes think I'm a coward."

"You! A coward! I should like to hear any one say so."

"A good many will perhaps, boy. But there, never mind that; and perhaps after all you had better not follow my profession."

"What! not be a soldier!"

"Yes. Do you really wish to be?"

"Why of course, father; I don't want to be a palace lapdog all my life."

"Bravo, Frank! well said!" cried the father heartily. "Well, you come of a military family, and I dare say I can get you a commission when the beard really does grow so that it can be seen without an optic gla.s.s."

"Oh, I say, father, you're beginning to tease again. I say, do get up and walk across the room."

"Eh? What for?"

"I want to look at you."

Sir Robert smiled and shook his head. Then, slowly rising, he drew himself up in military fas.h.i.+on, and marched slowly across the room and back, with his broad-skirted scarlet and gold uniform coat, white breeches, and high boots, and hand resting upon his sword hilt, and looking the beau ideal of an officer of the King's Guards.

"There, have I been weak enough, Frank?" he said, stopping in front of his son, and laying his hands affectionately upon his shoulders. "All show, my boy. When you've worn it as long as I have, you will think as little of it; but it is quite natural for it to attract a boy like you.

But now sit down and tell me a little about how you spend your time. I find that you have quite taken up with Andrew Forbes. His father promised me that the lad should try and be companionable to you. Forbes is an old friend of mine still, though he is in disgrace at court. How do you get on with Andrew? Like him?"

"Oh, very much, father."

"Well, don't like him too much, my boy. Lads of your age are rather too ready to make idols of showy fellows a year or two older, and look up to them and imitate them, when too often the idol is not of such good stuff as the wors.h.i.+pper. So you like him?"

"Yes, father."

"Kind and helpful to you?"

"Oh, very."

"Well, what is it?"

"What is what, father?"

"That cloudy look on your face. Why, Frank, I've looked at you so often that I can read it quite plainly. Why, you've been quarrelling with Andrew Forbes!"

"Oh no, father; we're the best of friends."

"Then what is it, Frank? You are keeping something back."

Sir Robert spoke almost sternly, and the son shrank from gazing in the fine, bold, questioning eyes.

"I knew it," said Sir Robert. "What is it, boy? Speak out."

It was the firm officer talking now, and Frank felt his breath come shorter as his heart increased the speed of its pulsations.

"Well, sir, I am waiting. Why don't you answer?"

"I can't, father."

"Can't? I thought my boy always trusted his father, as he trusts his son. There, out with it, Frank. The old saying, my lad. The truth may be blamed, but can never be shamed. What is it--some sc.r.a.pe? There, let's have it, and get it over. Always come to me, my boy. We are none of us perfect, so let there be no false shame. If you have done wrong, come to me and tell me like a man. If it means punishment, that will not be one hundredth part as painful to you as keeping it back and forfeiting my confidence in my dear wife's boy."

"Oh, I would come. I have wanted to come to you about this, but I felt that I could not."

"Why?"

"Because it would be dishonourable."

"Perhaps that is only your opinion, Frank. Would it not be better for me to give you my opinion?"

The boy hesitated for a moment. Then quickly:

"I gave my word, father."

"To whom?"

"Andrew Forbes."

"Not to speak of whatever it is?"

"Yes, father."

Sir Robert Gowan sat looking stern and silent for a few moments as if thinking deeply.

"Frank boy," he said at last. "I am a man of some experience; you are a mere boy fresh from a country school, and now holding a post which may expose you to many temptations. I, then, as your father, whose desire is to watch over you and help you to grow into a brave and good man, hold that it would not be dishonourable for you to confide in me in every way. It can be no dishonour for you to trust me."

"Then I will tell you, father;" and the boy hastily laid bare his breast, telling of his adventures with Andrew Forbes, and how great a source of anxiety they had proved to be.

"Hah!" said Sir Robert, after sitting with knitted brows looking curiously at his son and hearing him to the end. "Well, I am very glad that you have spoken, my boy, and I think it will be right for you to stand your ground, and be ready to laugh at Master Andrew and his political a.s.sociations. It is what people call disloyal and treasonable on one side; on the other, it is considered n.o.ble and right. But you need not trouble your head about that. Andrew Forbes is after all a mere boy, very enthusiastic, and led away perhaps by thoughts of the Prince living in exile instead of sitting on the throne of England. But you don't want to touch politics for the next ten years. It would be better for many if they never touched them at all. There, I am glad you have told me."

"So am I now, father. But you will not speak about it all, so as to get Drew in disgrace?"

"I give you my word I will not, Frank. Oh, nonsense! It is froth-- fluff; a chivalrous boy's fancy and sympathy for one he thinks is oppressed. No, Frank, no words of mine will do Drew Forbes any harm; but as for you--"

"Yes, father."

"Do all you can to help him and hold him back. It would be a pity for him to suffer through being rash. They might treat it all as a boy's nonsense--No, it would mean disgrace. Keep him from it if you can."

"I, father! He is so much older than I am, and I looked up to him."

"Proof of what I said, Frank," cried Sir Robert, clapping his son upon the shoulder. "He is a bright, showy lad; but you carry more ballast than he. Brag's a good dog, you know, but Holdfast's a better. Now, then, I think you ought to be going back. Good-bye, my boy. I look to you to be your mother's protector more and more. Perhaps in the future I may be absent. But you must go now, for I have an important letter to write. My dear love to your mother, and come to me again whenever you have a chance."

Sir Robert went down to the garden door with his son, and let him out that way into the Park.