In Honour's Cause Part 74

Then when alone Frank's thoughts went wandering away along the great north road by which the prisoners must be slowly approaching London, to find their fate. And at such times his thoughts were busy about his mother's friends. What were they doing to try and save his father?

Then his thoughts went like a flash to his meeting with Drew the day before; and his words came full of hope, and sent a feeling of elation through him. The rebels were not beaten, as Drew had said, and there was no doubt about their making a brave effort to rescue the prisoners before they were shut up in gaol.

And in imagination Frank built up what would in all probability be done.

Small parties of the Jacobites would form in different places, and with arms hidden gradually converge upon some chosen spot which the prisoners with their escort must pa.s.s. Then at a given signal an attack would be made. The escort would be of course very strong; but the Jacobites would be stronger, and in all probability the mob, always ready for a disturbance, would feel sympathy with the unfortunate prisoners, and help the attacking party, or at least join in checking the Guards, resenting their forcing their horses through the crowd which would have gathered; so that the prospects looked very bright in that direction, and the boy felt more and more hopeful.

Twice over the servant came to the door to tell the watcher that first breakfast, and then lunch, was waiting for him in the room below; but he would not leave the bedside, taking from sheer necessity what was brought to him, and then resuming his watch.

The physician came at the end of three hours as he had promised, but stayed only a few minutes.

"Exactly what I wished," he said. "Go on watching and keeping her quiet, and don't be alarmed if she sleeps for many hours yet. I will come in again this afternoon."

Frank resumed his seat by the bed, and then hastily pencilled a few lines to Captain Murray, telling him that it would be impossible to leave the bedside, and sent the note across by the servant, who brought a reply back.

It was very curt and abrupt.

"Of course. I see your position. Sorry, for I should have liked him to see you."

The note stung Frank to the quick.

"He thinks I am trying to excuse myself, when I would give the world to go with him," he muttered.

A glance at the pale face upon the pillow took off some of the bitterness, though, and he resumed his watch while the hours glided by.

At four the physician came again.

"Not awake?" he said; and he touched his patient's pulse lightly, and then softly raised one of Lady Gowan's eyelids, and examined the pupil.

"Nature is helping us, Mr Gowan," he said softly. "But she ought to have awoke by now, sir?"

"I expected that she would have done so; but nothing could be better.

She is extremely weak, and if she could sleep like this till to-morrow her brain would be rested from the terrible anxiety from which she is suffering. I will look in once more this evening."

Frank was alone again with his charge, and another hour pa.s.sed, during which the lad dwelt upon the plans that had been made, and calculated that Captain Murray must be about starting on his mission to meet the escort bringing in the prisoners. And as this idea came to him, Frank sat with his head resting upon his hands, his elbows upon his knees, trying hard to master the bitter sense of disappointment that afflicted him.

"And he will be looking from the carriage window to right and left, trying to make out whether I am there!" he groaned. "Oh, it seems cruel--cruel! and he will not know why I have not come."

But one gleam of hope came here. Captain Murray might find an opportunity to speak with the prisoner, and he would tell him that his son was watching by his suffering mother.

"He will know why I have not come then," Frank said softly; and after an impatient glance at the clock, he began again to think of Drew and his plans for the rescue.

But now, in the face of the precautions which would be taken, this seemed to be a wildly chimerical scheme, one which was not likely to succeed, and he shook his head sadly as a feeling of despair began to close him in like a dark cloud.

He was at his worst, feeling more and more hopeless, as he sat there, with his face buried in his fingers, when a hand was lightly placed upon his head, and starting up it was to find that his mother was awake, and gazing wistfully at him.

He bent over her, and her arms clasped his neck.

"My boy! my boy!" she said faintly; and she drew him to her breast, to hold him there for some moments before saying quickly:

"Have I slept long, dear?"

"Yes, ever since morning, mother."

"What time is it?"

"About half-past five."

"All that time?" she said excitedly. "He must be near now. Frank, my boy, the prisoners were to reach London soon after dark."

"Yes, mother, I know," he said, looking at her wistfully, as he held her hand now to his cheek.

"Is there any news?"

"No, mother, none."

"Oh," she moaned, "this terrible suspense! Frank, my darling, you must not stay here. Have you been with me all the time I have been asleep?"

"Yes, mother, all. You asked for me."

"Yes, my darling, in my selfishness; but you ought to go and get the latest tidings. Frank, it is your duty to be there when your father reaches this weary city. He ought not to be looking in vain for one of those he loves. You must go at once. Do you hear me? It is your duty."

"The doctor said it was my duty to watch by you," said Frank, with his heart beating fast, as he wondered whether Captain Murray had gone.

"With me? Oh, what am I, if your being where he could see you, if only for a moment, would give him comfort in his sore distress!"

"I was going, mother," whispered the boy excitedly. "Captain Murray was going to let me be with him, and he as an officer would have been able to take me right up to the escort."

"Then why are you here? Oh, go--go at once!"

"I was to stay with you, mother, so that you might see me when you awoke," he said huskily, the intense longing to go struggling with the desire to stay.

"Yes, yes, and I have seen you; but I am nothing if we can contrive to give him rest. Go, then, at once."

"But you are not fit to be left."

"I shall not be left," she said firmly. "Quick, Frank. You are increasing my agony every moment that you stay. Oh, my boy, pray, pray go, and then come back and tell me that you have seen him. Go. Take no refusal; fight for a position near him if you cannot get there by praying, and tell him how we are suffering for his sake--how we love him, and are striving to save him. Oh, and I keep you while I am talking, and he must be very near! Quick! Kiss me once and go, and I will lie here and pray that you may succeed."

"You wish it--you command me to go, mother?" he panted.

"Yes, yes, my boy," she cried eagerly; and he bent down over her, pressed his lips to hers, and darted to the door.

"Nurse, nurse!" he said hoa.r.s.ely, "come and stay with my mother." Then to himself as he rushed down the stairs: "Too late--too late! He must have gone."

CHAPTER FORTY.

ON THE GREAT NORTH ROAD.