In Honour's Cause Part 15

"Don't treat me as if I were a child," cried Frank pa.s.sionately. "I'm sure it meant more than that."

"Well, suppose it does, what then?"

"What then? Why, you have been tricking and deceiving me. Just too as it seemed that we were going to be the best of friends."

"Nonsense! We are the best of friends, tied more tightly than ever to stand by each other to the end."

"Then there is something in all this?"

"Of course there is. You knew there was when we agreed to come."

"I did not!" cried Frank indignantly; "or if I thought that there might be, I felt that it was only a little foolish enthusiasm on your part, and that Mr Selby was only a casual friend."

"Oh no; he is one of my best friends."

"Drew, I shall never forgive you. It was mean and cruel to take me there in ignorance of what these men were."

"Very nice gentlemanly fellows, and you looked as if you enjoyed their society."

"I see it all clearly enough now," continued Frank excitedly, and without heeding; "they are Jacobites."

"Not the only ones in London, if they are."

"And 'Across the water' means that man--the Pretender."

"Hus.h.!.+ Don't call people names," said Andrew, in a warning whisper.

"You never know who is next you in the street."

"I don't care who hears me. It is the truth."

"Don't you be peppery now. Why, you were all amiability till we came away."

"Because I could not think that there was anything in it. I could not believe you would play me such a trick."

"All things are fair in love and war," said Andrew.

"It is a base piece of deception, and I'll never trust you again."

"Oh yes, you will, always. You'll like them more and more every time you go."

"I go there again? Never!"

"Oh yes, you will, often, because we all like you, and you are just the boy to grow into the man we want. I had no sooner mentioned your name to Mr Selby than he said, 'Yes, he must join us, of course.'"

"Join you? Why, you are a band of conspirators."

"Silence, I tell you! That man in front heard you and turned his head."

"I don't care."

"Then I must make you. Look here, Frank, whatever we are, you are the same."

"I!" cried the boy in horror.

"Of course. This is twice you have come to our club, and there is not a man there to-night who does not look upon you as our new brother."

"Then they must be undeceived."

"Impossible! You have joined hands with us, and breathed our prayer for him across the water."

"I did not; I never opened my lips."

"You seemed to; anyhow, you clasped hands with us, and that is enough."

"I refuse to have any dealings with your club, and for your sake as well as mine I shall acquaint my father with everything that has taken place."

"That would not matter," said Andrew coolly. "But you will not. I introduced you to Mr Selby, who had come on purpose to see you."

"Then that feeding ducks was a design?"

"Of course it was; the spies and the guard might interfere with a stranger hanging about at the water-side, but they can have nothing to say to a man feeding the ducks."

"Oh, what base treachery and deception! But I will not be tricked like this. It was the act of a traitor."

"It was the act of a friend to save you in the troubles that are to come."

"I don't care what you say. I will clear myself from even a suspicion of being an enemy of the King."

"You are a friend of the King," said Andrew, tightening his hold of his companion's arm; "and you cannot draw back now."

"I can, and will. Why can I not? Who is to prevent me?"

"Every man you saw there to-night--every man of the thousand who was not there. Frank boy, ours is a great and just cause, and the sentence on the man who has joined us and then turns traitor--"

"I have not joined."

"You have, and I am your voucher. You are one of us now."

"And if I go back, what then?" cried Frank contemptuously.

"The sentence is death."

"Bah! nonsense! But let me tell you this, that the sentence really is death for him who, being the King's servant, turns traitor. Who stands worse to-night, you or I?--Oh!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the boy quickly, and with a sharp ring of horror in his tones; "look there!"

The moon was s.h.i.+ning brightly now, full upon the grim-looking old city gateway, and Frank Gowan stood where he had stopped short, as if paralysed by the sight before him.

"Yes, I know," said Andrew coolly, as he looked up; "I have seen them before. Traitors' heads."