He turned cold at the thought.
“They hang or behead people for high treason,” he thought; “and suppose Drew were to be punished like that, how should I feel afterward? I should never forgive myself. Besides, how could I go and worry my mother about such a business as this? It is not women’s work, and it would only make her unhappy.”
But he felt that he might go to his father, and confide the matter to him, asking him on his honour not to do anything likely to injure Drew.
But he could not go and confide in his father, who was generally with his regiment, and they only met on rare occasions. By chance he caught sight of him on duty at the Palace with the guard, but he could not speak to him then. At other times he was at his barrack quarters, and rarely at his town house across the Park in Queen Anne Street. This place was generally only occupied by the servants, Lady Gowan having apartments in the Palace.
Hence Frank felt that it would be very difficult to see his father and confide in him, and he grew more at ease in consequence. It was the way out of a difficulty most dear to many of us—to wit, letting things drift to settle themselves.
And so matters went on for some days. Frank had been constantly in company with Andrew Forbes, and his admiration for the handsome lad grew into a hearty friendship, which was as warmly returned.
“He can’t help knowing he is good-looking,” thought Frank, “and that makes him a bit conceited; but it will soon wear off. I shall joke him out of it. And he knows so much. He is so manly. He makes me feel like an awkward schoolboy beside him.”
Frank knitted his brow a little over these thoughts, but he brightened up with a laugh directly.
“I think I could startle him, though,” he said half aloud, “if I had him down at Winchester.”
It was one bright morning at the Palace, where he was standing at the anteroom window just after the regular morning military display, and he had hardly thought this when a couple of hands were passed over his eyes, and he was held fast.