In Honour's Cause Part 78

"Yes; the Princess--the Prince--will not hear of our leaving, and--"

Then a note from a trumpet rang out, the horses sprang forward at a sharp trot, and the dragoon on Frank's left changed his sword to his left hand, so as to place his right on the rein of the boy's charger, though it was hardly needed, the well-trained horse bearing off a little to avoid injury from the wheel, but keeping level with the window, so that from time to time, though conversation was impossible, father and son managed to bridge the s.p.a.ce between them and touch hands.

It was fortunate for the lad that he was mounted upon a trained cavalry charger, for he had nothing to do but keep his seat, his mount settling down at once to the steady military trot side by side with the horse next to it, and keeping well in its distance behind the horse in front, so that the rider was able to devote all his attention to the occupant of the carriage, who leaned forward with his head framed in the darkness of the window, as if pictured in the sight of his son, possibly for the last time, for in those hours Sir Robert Gowan had not the slightest doubt as to what his fate would be.

On his side, Frank sat in his saddle watching his father's dimly seen face, but ready to start and glance in any direction from which a fresh sound was heard.

The first time was on reaching the turnpike gate, where the toll-taker seemed disposed to hesitate about letting the advance guard pa.s.s. The result was an outcry, which sent Frank's heart with a leap toward his lips, for he felt certain that the attack had commenced. But the foremost men dismounted, seized the gate, lifted it off its hook hinges, and cast it aside, the troops and carriages thundered through, and made the people of Highgate village come trooping out in wonder to see what this invasion of their quiet meant.

Then the descent of the hill commenced, with the heavy old-fas.h.i.+oned carriages swaying on their C-springs; but no slackening of speed took place, and the artillerymen hurried their horses along, as if the load they drew were some heavy gun or a waggon full of ammunition.

Twice over Frank gazed at the foremost carriage in alarm, so nearly was it upset in one of the ruts of the ill-kept road; but the rate at which they were going saved it, and they thundered along without accident to where the gradient grew less steep.

There was very little traffic on the road at that time of the night, and not many people about, while before those who were startled by the noise of the pa.s.sing troops had time to come out the prisoners had gone by.

Holloway and Highbury were pa.s.sed, and Islington reached, but no sign of an attempt at rescue caught Frank's anxious eyes; neither was there any appearance of fresh troops till the head of the escort turned down the road which entered the city at the west end of Cheapside. But here the boy started, for they pa.s.sed between two outposts, a couple of dragoons facing them on either side of the road, sitting like statues till the whole of the escort had pa.s.sed, when they turned in after it, four abreast, and brought up the rear, but some distance in front of the rear guard.

At the end of another fifty yards two more couples were seen, and at the end of every similar interval four more dragoons turned in at the rear, strengthening the escort, while it was evident that they had previously cleared the road of all vehicles, turning them into the neighbouring ways, so that the cortege was enabled to continue its progress at the same steady military trot as they had commenced with on leaving Highgate.

Again and again Frank, now growing breathless, had hoped that the walking pace would once more be renewed, so as to afford him a chance to speak to his father; but he wished in vain, for, except at two sharp turnings, the whole body of dragoons swept along at the sharp trot, and without change, saving that as London was neared the men flanking the carriages were doubled.

But though no sign of rescue caught Frank's eyes, he saw that the stationing of the dragoons to keep the way and the turning of the traffic out of the road had had their effect; for at every step the collection of people along the sides and at the windows increased, till, when the road changed to a busy London street, there was quite a crowd lining the sides.

"There will be no rescue," sighed the lad; and he turned from sweeping the sides of the street to gaze sadly at his father, whose face he could now see pretty plainly, as they pa.s.sed one of the dismal street lamps which pretended in those days to light the way.

He could see that, brief as the time had been since he last saw his father, his countenance had sadly altered. There was a stern, careworn look in his eyes, and he looked older, and as if he had been exposed to terrible hards.h.i.+ps. He noted too that he did not seem to have had the opportunity given him of attending to his person, but had been treated with the greatest of severity.

The lad's gloomy musings on the aspect of the face which beamed lovingly upon him, the eyes seeming to say, "Don't be down-hearted, boy!" were suddenly brought to an end by a check in their progress, for the advance guard, from being a hundred yards ahead, had by degrees shortened the s.p.a.ce to fifty, twenty, and ten yards, and finally was only the front of the column. But still they had advanced at a trot, and the officer in command sent orders twice over for the vanguard to increase their distance.

"Tell him I can't," said the officer in front. "It can only be done by riding over the people."

And now the men stationed to keep the way had utterly failed, the people having crowded in from the side streets north of Saint Martin's-le-Grand till the pairs of dragoons were hemmed in, and in spite of several encounters with the crowd they were forced to remain stationary.

The check that came was the announcement that the trot could no longer be continued, and, perforce, the escort advanced at a walk; while, as Frank glanced round for a moment, it suddenly struck him that, save at the windows of the houses, there was not a woman to be seen, the crowd consisting of st.u.r.dy-looking men.

The lad had no eyes for the crowd, though. The relapse into a walk had given him the opportunity for grasping his father's hand again, and Sir Robert said to him hurriedly:

"My dearest love to your mother, Frank lad. Tell her, whatever happens, I have but one thought, and that it is for her, that we may meet in happier times."

"Meet in happier times" rang through Frank like a death-knell, for he grasped what his father meant, and tried to speak some words of comfort, but they would not come. Even if they had, they would have been drowned by a tremendous cheer which arose from the crowd and went rolling onward.

"The wretches!" muttered Frank; and he turned to look round, with his eyes flas.h.i.+ng his indignation. Then, as the cheer went rolling away forward, he repeated his words aloud, unconscious that they would be heard.

"The wretches! It is not a sight."

"They're a-cheering of 'em, sir," said the dragoon at his elbow, "not hooting 'em, poor fellows!"

Frank darted a grateful look in the man's eyes, and his heart leaped with excitement as the light flashed upon him. It was a manoeuvre, and there would be an attempt to rescue, after all.

"I believe we're in for a row, sir," continued the man, leaning over to him and speaking in a low voice. "Strikes me the best thing for you to do would be to step into the carriage to your friend before the fight begins: I'll hold your horse."

"I!" said Frank sharply. "I wouldn't be such a cur."

"Well said, youngster. Then you try and stick by me. We shall be in the thick of it, and n.o.body shall hurt you if I can help it."

"Do--do you think, then, that there will be trouble?"

"Yes, for some of us, sir," said the man. "They mean to try and get the prisoners, and the attack will be here."

Frank was unconscious of a movement behind him, till a horseman forced his way in between him and the dragoon, and Captain Murray said sharply:

"Try and ease off, my man."

"Not to be done, sir," replied the dragoon.

"There's going to be an attempt at rescue, Frank," whispered the captain. "Shake hands with your father before we are forced away."

At that moment word was pa.s.sed along from the rear, running from man to man as they still kept on at a slow walk:

"Flats of your swords; drive them back."

The next minute, just as a fresh cheer was being started, the trumpet rang out behind "Trot!" and the men put spurs to their horses, and dashed on, driving a road through the crowd; and, amidst a savage yelling and hooting which took the place of the hearty cheer for the prisoners, the escort literally forced their way for another fifty yards, the men in advance striking to right and left with the flats of their heavy cavalry swords.

But it was soon evident that they were slackening speed, and the trumpet rang out again, but with an uncertain sound, for it was nearly drowned by the angry yelling which arose. The command was _gallop_, but the execution of the order was _walk_, and a minute later the whole escort came to a stand, literally wedged in, with the frightened horses standing s.h.i.+vering and snorting, only one here and there trying to rear and plunge.

"We're caught, Frank lad. Think of nothing but keeping your seat. Take out a pistol, and point it at the first man who tries to drag you from your horse. Ah! I thought so."

Orders were pa.s.sed along now to the dragoons to defend themselves, for efforts were being made to drag some of the outside men from their horses. Blades flashed on high, cut and point were given, and amidst howlings and savage execrations blood began to flow.

And now, as if by magic, sticks and swords appeared among the crowd; men who had forced their way under the horses' necks, or crept under them, appeared everywhere; and amidst a deafening roar, as the seething ma.s.s swayed here and there, Frank caught sight of two men busy just before him, doing something with knives. One of the dragoons noticed it too, and he leaned forward to make a thrust at one of the two; but as he bent over his horse's neck a cudgel was raised, fell heavily across the back of his neck, and he dropped forward, and was only saved from falling by a comrade's help.

"They've cut the traces," said Captain Murray hoa.r.s.ely. "It's an organised attempt."

As he spoke men were rising amongst them; and, before Frank could realise how it happened, a dozen filled up the little s.p.a.ces about the carriage, while moment by moment the dragoons were being rendered more helpless. The blows they rained down were parried with swords; they were dragged from their horses; and, in several cases, helped by their fellows, men climbed up behind them, and pinioned their arms.

Organised indeed it seemed to be, for while the greater part of the rioters devoted their attention to rendering the great escort helpless, others kept on forcing their way till they had surrounded the carriages, trusting to their companions to ward off the blows directed at them, but in too many cases in vain.

Frank tried his best to remain near his father, but he was perfectly helpless, and had to go as his horse was slowly forced along, till he was several yards away from the carriage door, at which he could still see the prisoner watching him as if thinking only of the safety of his boy, while the captain was still farther away, using his pistol to keep off attempts made to dismount him.

All attempts at combination were getting useless now for the troops, and it was every man for himself; but the mob did not seem vindictive only when some dragoon struck mercilessly at those who hemmed him in, when the result rapidly followed that he was dragged from his horse and trampled underfoot.

Sir Robert was now shut out from his son's gaze by several men forcing themselves to the carriage door, and Frank was rising in his stirrups to try and catch another glimpse of him, when in the wild swaying about of the crowd his horse was forced nearer to Captain Murray, an eddy sending the captain fortunately back to him, so that their horses made an effort, and came side by side once more, snorting and trembling with fear.

"The men are helpless, Frank lad," said the captain, with his lips to the lad's ear. "They can do nothing more. They are literally wedged in."

"My father?" panted Frank.

"It will be a rescue, my lad."