CHAPTER THIRTY SIX.
THE WORST NEWS.
Next morning Frank rose in his old quarters, firmly determined to keepto his decision. It was very kind and generous of the Prince, he felt;but his position would be intolerable, and his mother would not be ableto bear an existence fraught with so much misery; and, full of theintention to see her and beg her to prevail on the Princess to let themleave, he waited his time.
But it did not come that day. He had to return to his duties in thePrince's anteroom, and at such times as he was free he found that hismother was engaged with her royal mistress.
The next day found him more determined than ever; but another, agreater, and more unexpected obstacle was in the way. He went to hismother's apartments, to find that, worn out with sorrow and anxiety, shehad taken to her bed, and the Princess's physician had seen her andordered complete rest, and that she should be kept free from everyanxiety.
"How can I go now!" thought the boy; "and how can she be kept free fromanxiety!"
It was impossible in both cases, while with the latter every scrap ofnews would certainly be brought to her, for the Palace hummed with theexcitement of the troubles in the north; and as the day glided by therecame the news that the Earl of Mar had set up the standard of theStuarts in Scotland, and proclaimed Prince James King of Great Britain;but the Pretender himself remained in France, waiting for the promisedassistance of the French Government, which was slow in coming.
Still the Scottish nobles worked hard in the Prince's cause, and bydegrees the Earl of Mar collected an army of ten thousand fighting men,including the staunch Highlanders, who readily assumed claymore andtarget at the gathering of the clans.
It was over the English rising that Frank was the more deeplyinterested, and he eagerly hungered for every scrap of news which wasbrought to the Palace, Captain Murray hearing nearly everything, andreadily responding to the boy's questions, though he always shook hishead and protested that it would do harm and unsettle him.
"You'd better shut up your ears, Frank lad, and go on with your duties,"he said one day. "But tell me first, what is the last news about LadyGowan?"
"Ill, very ill," said the boy wearily. "All this is killing her."
"Then the bad news ought to be kept from her."
"Bad news!" gasped Frank. "Is it then so bad?"
"Of course; isn't it all bad?"
"Oh!" ejaculated the boy; "I thought there was something fresh--something terrible. But how can the news be kept from her? ThePrincess goes and sits with her every day, and then tells hereverything. She learns more than I do, and gets it sooner; but I can'tgo and ask her, for I always feel as if it were cruel and torturing herto make her speak about our great trouble while she is so ill. Now,tell me all you know."
"It is not much, boy. The Duke of Argyle is busy; he is now appointedto the command of the King's forces in Scotland, and some troops arebeing landed from Ireland to join his clans."
"Yes, yes; but in England?" cried the boy. "My father is not inScotland. It is about what is going on in England that I want to know."
It was always the same, and by degrees, as the days went by, Franklearned that his father had, with other gentlemen, joined the Earl ofDerwentwater, and that they were threatening Newcastle.
It seemed an age before the next tidings came, and Frank's heart sank,while those in the Palace were holding high festival, for thePretender's little army there had been beaten off, and was in retreatthrough Cumberland on the way to Lancashire.
A little later came news that in the boy's secret heart made him rejoiceand brought gloom into the Palace. For it soon leaked out that thecounty militias had been assembled hastily to check the Pretender'sforces, but only to be put to flight and scattered in all directions.
Then despatch after despatch reached the Palace from the north, allcontaining bad news. The rebels had marched on, carrying everythingbefore them till they neared Preston in triumph.
"Then they'll go on increasing in strength," whispered Frank, as he satwith Captain Murray on the evening of the receipt of that news, "andmarch right on to London!"
"Want them to?" said the captain drily.
"Yes--no--no--yes--I don't know."
"Nice loyal sort of a servant the Prince has got," said the captain.
"Don't talk to me like that, Captain Murray," said the boy passionately."I feel that I hate for the rebels to succeed; but how can I helpwishing my father success?"
"No, you cannot," said the captain quietly. "But he will not succeed,my lad. He and the others are in command of a mere rabble ofundisciplined men, and before long on their march they will be met bysome of the King's forces sent to intercept them."
"Yes, yes," cried the boy, with his cheeks flushing, "and then?"
"What is likely to happen in spite of the training of the leaders? Theundrilled men cannot stand against regular troops, even if they areenthusiastic. No: disaster must come sooner or later, and then there isonly one chance for us, Frank."
"For us? I thought you said that the King's troops would win."
"Yes, and they will. I as a soldier feel that it must be so. We shallwin; but I say there is only one chance for us as friends--a quickescape for your father to the coast and taking refuge in France. Wemust not have him taken, Frank, come what may."
"Thank you, Captain Murray," said the boy, laying his hand on hisfriend's sleeve. "You have made me happier than I have felt for days."
"And it sounds very disloyal, my boy; but I can't help my heart turningto my old friend to wish him safe out of the rout."
"Then you think it will be a rout?" panted Frank.
"It must be sooner or later. They may gain a few little advantages bysurprise, or the cowardice of the troops; but those successes can'tlast, and when the defeat comes it will be the greater, and mean acomplete end to a mad scheme."
"But the Prince must be with them by this time, sir."
"The Pretender? No; he is still in France without coming forward, andleaving the misguided men who would place him on the throne to beslaughtered for aught he seems to care."
Captain Murray proved to be a true prophet, for he had spoken on thebasis of his experience of what properly trained men could do againsttroops hastily collected, and badly armed men whose discipline was ofthe rudest description.
Sooner even than the captain had anticipated the news came in a despatchbrought from the north of England. The Pretender's forces, under LordsDerwentwater, Kenmuir, and Nithsdale, were encountered by the King'stroops; and before the two bodies joined battle a summons was sent tothe rebel army calling upon the men to lay down their arms or beattacked without mercy.
The Pretender's generals tried to treat the summons to surrender withcontempt, laughed at it, and bade their followers to stand fast and thevictory would be theirs. But, in spite of the exhortations of theirofficers, the sight of the King's regular troops drawn up in battlearray proved too much for the raw forces. Probably they were weariedwith marching and the many difficulties they had had to encounter.Their enthusiasm leaked out, life seemed far preferable to death, andthey surrendered at discretion.
There was feasting and rejoicing at Saint James's that night, when thenews came of the bloodless victory; while in one of the apartmentsmother and son were shut up alone in the agony of their misery anddespair, for whatever might be the fate of the common people of thePretender's army, the action of the King toward all who opposed him wasknown to be of merciless severity. The leaders of the rebellion couldexpect but one fate--death by the executioner.
"But, mother, mother! oh, don't give way to despair like that," criedFrank. "We have heard so little yet. Father would fight to the lastbefore he would fly; but when all was over he would be too clever forthe enemy, and escape in safety to the coast."
"No," said Lady Gowan, in tones which startled her son. "Your father,Frank, would never desert the men he had led. It would be to victory ordeath. It was not to victory they marched tha
t day."
"But his name is not mentioned in the despatch."
"No," said Lady Gowan sadly. "Nor is that of Colonel Forbes."
"Ah!" cried Frank; "and poor Drew, he would be there."
At last he was compelled to quit the poor, suffering woman; but beforegoing to his own chamber, he went over to the officers' quarters, to tryand see Captain Murray.
There was a light in his room, and the sound of voices in earnestconversation; and Frank was turning back, to go and sit alone in hisdespair, when he recognised the doctor's tones, and he knocked andentered.
The eager conversation stopped on the instant, as the two occupants ofthe room saw the boy's anxious, white face looking inquiringly from oneto the other.
"Come in and sit down," said Captain Murray, in a voice which told ofhis emotion; "sit down, my boy."
Frank obeyed in silence, trying hard to read the captain's thoughts.
"You have come from your mother?"
"Yes; she is very ill."
"She has heard of the disaster, then?"
"Yes. The Princess went and broke it to her as gently as she could."
"And she told you?"
"Yes; she sent for me as soon as she heard."
"Poor lady!" said the captain.
"Amen to that," said the doctor huskily; and he pulled out hissnuff-box, and took three pinches in succession, making himself sneezeviolently as an excuse for taking out his great red-and-yellow silkhandkerchief and using it to a great extent.
"Hah!" he said at last, as he looked across at Frank, with his eyesquite wet; "and poor old Robert Gowan! Rebel, they call him; but wehere, Frank, can only look upon him more as brother than friend."
"But," cried the boy passionately, "there is hope for him yet. He isnot taken, in spite of what my mother said. He would have escaped tothe coast, and made again for France."
"What did your mother say?" asked Captain Murray, looking at the boyfixedly.
"My mother say? That my father would never forsake the men whom he wasleading to victory or death."
"Yes; she was right, Frank, my lad. He would never turn his back on hismen to save himself."
"Of course not, till the day was hopelessly lost."
"Not when the day was hopelessly lost," said Captain Murray, so sternlythat Frank took alarm.
"Why do you speak to me like that?" he cried, rising from his seat."His name was not in the despatch. Ah! you have heard. There issomething worse behind. Oh, Captain Murray, don't say that he waskilled."
"I say," said that officer sadly, "it were better that he had beenkilled--that he had died leading his men, as a brave officer shoulddie."
"Then he did not," cried Frank, with a hoarse sigh of relief.
"No, he escaped that."
"And to liberty?"
"No, my boy, no," said the doctor, uttering a groan.
"But I tell you that his name was not in the despatch. He couldn't havebeen taken prisoner."
There was silence in the room, and the candles for want of snuffing werevery dim.
"Why don't you speak to me?" cried Frank passionately. "Am I such a boythat you treat me as a child?"
"My poor lad! You must know the truth," said Captain Murray gently."Your father's and Colonel Forbes's names are both in the despatch asprisoners."
"No, no, no!" cried Frank wildly. "The Princess--"
"Kept the worst news back, to try and spare your poor mother pain. Itis as I always feared."
"Then you are right," moaned Frank; and he uttered a piteous cry. "Yes,it would have been better if he had died."
For the headsman's axe seemed to be glimmering in the black darknessahead, and he shuddered as he recalled once more what he had seen onTemple Bar.
In Honour's Cause: A Tale of the Days of George the First Page 36
