For answer the captain clapped him on the shoulder, and twisted him round.
“Look at your white face in the glass, my boy. Don’t risk illness. You will want all your strength directly in the fight for life to come. Your father will, in all probability, reach London to-morrow.”
“Ah!” cried Frank excitedly.
“Yes; we had news this morning by the messenger who brought the royal despatches. The colonel had a brief letter. Get leave to go out to-morrow, and come with me.”
“Yes, where?”
“We’ll try and meet the escort, and see your father, even if we cannot speak.”
“Oh!” ejaculated Frank; and, utterly worn out with anxiety and want of proper food, he reeled, a deathly feeling of sickness seized him, and his eyes closed.
When he opened them again he was lying upon the captain’s couch, with his temples and hair wet, and he looked wonderingly in the face of his father’s friend.
“Better?”
“Yes; what is it? Oh my head! the room’s going round.”