Frank asks Leave to go.
“Yes,” said Lady Gowan sadly, after her meeting with her son, “it is terrible; but after all my teaching, telling you of your duty to be loyal to those whom we serve and who have been such friends to us, I could not nerve myself to tell you the dreadful truth. You are right, my boy. More than ever now we are out of place here; we must go.”
“Yes, mother,” said the boy gravely, “we must go.”
“Let me read the letter, Frank.”
“Read it, mother? I have repeated every word. It wanted no learning. I knew it when I had read it once.”
“Yes; but I must read your father’s letter to you myself.”
“How could I keep it?” he said, almost fiercely. “I expected to be arrested and searched. It is burned.”
Lady Gowan uttered a weary sigh, and clung to her boy’s hand.
“Going, dear?” she said; “so soon?”
“Yes, mother; I have so much to do. I can’t stay now. Perhaps I shall be a prisoner again after this business, and coming back here protected by a riotous crowd.”