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In Honour's Cause: A Tale of the Days of George the First, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 28. A Night Alarm |
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_ CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT. A NIGHT ALARM It was very plain to Frank that the officers did not look upon his offence in a very serious light, for the younger men received him with a cheer, and the elders with a smile, as they shook hands, while the doctor came and clapped him on the shoulder. "Hallo, young fire-eater!" he cried; "when are you coming to stay?" "To stay, sir?" said the boy, feeling puzzled. "Yes, with your commission. We've lost your father. We must have you to take his place." "No, sir," said Frank, flushing. "I don't want to take my father's place. I want to see him back in it." "Well said!" cried the colonel; "what we all want. But get to be a bit more of a man, and then coax the Prince to give you a commission. I think we can make room for Robert Gowan's son in the corps, gentlemen?" There was a chorus of assent at this; and the colonel went on: "Come and sit by me, my lad. We can find a chair for you and your guest, Murray, at this end. Why, you're not fit for a page, my lad; they want soft, smooth, girlish fellows for that sort of thing. A young firebrand like you, ready to whip out his sword and use it, is the stuff for a soldier." Frank wished the old officer would hold his tongue, and not draw attention to him, for every one at the table was listening, and Captain Murray sat smiling with grim satisfaction. But the colonel went on: "Very glad to see you here this evening, my boy. Why, I hear that you are quite a favourite with the Prince." "It does not seem like it, sir," said Frank, who was beginning to feel irritated. "I am a prisoner." There was a laugh at this, which ran rippling down the table. "Not bad quarters for a prisoner, eh, gentlemen?" said the colonel. "Pooh! my lad, you are only under arrest; and we are very glad you are, for it gives us the opportunity of having the company of Robert Gowan's son." Frank flushed with pleasure to find how warmly his father's name was received; and the colonel went on: "Don't you trouble your head about being under arrest, boy. The Prince was obliged to have you marched off. It wouldn't do for him to have every young spark drawing and getting up a fight in the Palace. By the way, what was the quarrel about? You struck young Forbes?" "Yes, sir." "Well, of course he would draw upon you; but how came you to strike him?" The boy hesitated; but the colonel's keen eyes were fixed upon him so steadfastly, that he felt that he must speak and clear himself of the suspicion of being a mere quarrelsome schoolboy, and he said firmly: "He said insulting things about my father, sir." There was a chorus of approval at this; and as soon as there was silence, the colonel looked smilingly round the table: "I think we might forgive this desperate young culprit for committing that heinous offence, gentlemen. What do you say?" There was a merry laugh at this; and the colonel turned to the lad. "We all forgive you, Mr Gowan. It is unanimous. Now, I think we are a little hard upon you; so pray go on with your dinner." "I don't think his arrest will last long, sir," said Captain Murray, after a while. "Pooh! No: I'm afraid not," said the colonel; "and we shall lose our young friend's company. The Prince is a good soldier himself, even if he is a German. Gowan will hear no more of it, I should say; and I don't want to raise his hopes unduly, but on the strength of this rising, when we want all good supporters of his Majesty in their places, I should say that the occasion will be made one for sending word to Captain Sir Robert Gowan to come back to his company." Frank flushed again, and looked at Captain Murray, who smiled and nodded. "By the way, Murray," said the colonel, "why did you not bring the other young desperado to dinner?" The captain shrugged his shoulders. "A bit sulky," he said. "Feels himself ill-used." "Oh!" ejaculated the colonel; and seeing Frank's troubled face, he changed the conversation, beginning to talk about the news of a rising in the north, where certain officers were reported to have landed, and where the Pretender, James Francis, was expected to place himself at their head, and march for London. "A foolish, mad project, I say, gentlemen," exclaimed the colonel; "and whatever my principles may have been, I am a staunch servant of his Majesty King George the First, and the enemy of all who try and disturb the peace of the realm." A burst of applause followed these words; and the conversation became general, giving Frank the opportunity for thinking over the colonel's words, and of what a triumph it would be for his father to return and take up his old position. "Poor old Drew!" he said to himself, with a sigh. "What would he think if he heard them talking about its being a mad project?" Then he went on thinking about how miserable his old companion must be in the guardroom, watched by sentries; and as he kept on eating for form's sake, every mouthful seemed to go against him, and he wished the dinner was over. For, in addition to these thoughts, others terribly painful would keep troubling him, the place being full of sad memories. He recalled that he was sitting in the very seat occupied by the German baron upon that unlucky evening; and the whole scene of the angry encounter came vividly back, even to the words that were spoken. The natural sequence to this was his being called by Andrew Forbes in the dull grey of the early morning to go and witness that terrible sword fight in the Park; and he could hardly repress a shudder as he seemed to see the German's blade flashing and playing about his father's breast, till the two thrusts were delivered, one of which nearly brought the baron's career to a close. Nothing could have been kinder than the treatment the young guest received from the officers; but nothing could have been more painful to the lad, and again and again he wished himself away as the dinner dragged its slow length along, and he sat there feeling lonely, occupied toward the end almost entirely with thoughts of his father, Andrew's false charge about him being generally uppermost, and raising the indignant colour to his cheeks. "I wonder where he is now," he thought, "and what he is doing?" Then once more about what delight his mother would feel if the colonel's ideas came to pass, and Sir Robert came back in triumph. "Oh, it's too good to be true," thought the boy; but he clung to the hope all the same. The only time when he was relieved from the pressure of his sad thoughts was when the conversation around grew animated respecting the probabilities of the country being devastated by civil war; but even then it made his heart ache on Andrew Forbes's account, as he heard the quiet contempt with which the elder officers treated the Pretender's prospects, the colonel especially speaking strongly on the subject. "No," he said, "England will never rise in favour of such a monarch as that. It is a mad business, that will never win support. The poor fellow had better settle down quietly to his life in France. The reign of the Stuarts is quite at an end." "Poor old Drew," thought Frank. "I wish he could have heard that; but he would not have believed if he had." Then the officers went on talking of the possibility of their regiment being called upon for active service, and the boy could not help a feeling of wonder at the eager hopes they expressed of having to take part in that which would probably result in several of those present losing their lives or being badly wounded. "I wonder whether I shall be as careless about my life when I am grown-up and a soldier?" he thought. The regular dinner had long been over, and the members of the mess had been sitting longer than usual, the probability of the regiment going into active service having supplied them with so much food for discussion that the hour was getting late, and the young guest had several times over felt an intense longing to ask permission to leave the table, his intention being to get Captain Murray to let him join Andrew Forbes. But he felt that as a guest he could not do this, and must wait till the colonel rose. He was thinking all this impatiently for the last time, feeling wearied out after so terribly exciting a day as he had passed through, when the colonel and all present suddenly sprang to their feet; for a shot rang out from close at hand, followed by a loud, warning cry, as if from a sentry; then, before any one could reach the door to run out and see what was wrong, there was another shot, and again another, followed by a faint and distant cry. _ |
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