“My own! Yes,” he whispered, as he folded Lady Gowan in his arms again.
“Ah!” cried Frank wildly, for a heavy series of blows from the front-door knocker resounded through the house.
“Too late!” cried Lady Gowan wildly, as Frank dashed out of the door to the front room to peer through the window.
He was back in a few moments, to find his mother clinging to his father, ghastly with the horrible dread which had attacked her.
“Soldiers—a dozen at least in front!” panted Frank.
There was another loud knocking at the street door.
“Quick, father, out by that window. You can drop from the balcony.”
“Yes, my boy, easily.”
“Then get over the railing and cross the Park. Go straight through by the Palace. No one would think you likely to take that way.”
“Good advice, boy. Out with the candle. That’s right.”