“I must go with you, Drew. I’m afraid I didn’t hardly know what I was saying; but it seems so cold-blooded to know that one’s own father is going to a fight that may mean death, and not interfere to stop it.”
“Interfere to stop it—may mean death! I hope it does to some one,” whispered Andrew fiercely. “There, let go; I can’t stop any longer.”
“You’re not going without me. There, I’m ready now.”
“But I can’t take you to try and interfere. I thought you’d like me to tell you.”
“Yes, I do. I must come, and—and I won’t say or do anything that isn’t right.”
“I can’t trust you,” said Andrew hastily. “It was a mistake to come and tell you. There, let go.”
“You are not going without me!” cried Frank, fiercely now; and he grasped his companion’s arm so firmly that the lad winced.
“Come on, then,” he said; and, with his breath coming thick and short, Frank followed his companion downstairs and out of the door of the old house in the Palace precincts, into the long, low colonnade.
They closed the door softly, and ran together across the courtyard in the dim light, but were challenged directly after by a sentry.
“Hush! Don’t stop us,” whispered Andrew. “You know who we are—two of the royal pages.”