In Honour's Cause Part 63

The man looked hard at him for a few moments, but not menacingly. It was in the fas.h.i.+on of a man who was accustomed to be snubbed, bullied, and otherwise insulted, but did not mind these things in the least, so long as he could achieve his ends. He made Frank turn cold, though, with dread, for he began to look round the room, noticing everything in turn in search of the reason for the boy's visit, for naturally he felt certain that there was some special reason, and he meant to find it out.

Frank stood watching him for a while, and then, as the man did not walk straight at the picture, and begin to try if he could find anything behind, the boy began to pluck up courage, and, drawing a long breath by way of preparation, he said, as he stepped forward:

"Now, sir, I don't feel disposed to leave you here while I go upstairs to my old room, so have the goodness to leave."

"When you do, Mr Gowan--not before."

"What!" cried Frank fiercely; and he clapped his hand to where his sword should hang, but it had not been returned to him by the officer who arrested him, and he coloured with rage and annoyance.

"Ah, you have no sword," said the man coolly. "Just as well, for you would not be able to use it. At the least attempt at violence, one call from this whistle would bring help to the back and front of the house, and you would be arrested. I presume you do not want to be in prison again?"

"What do you know about my being arrested?"

"There is not much that I do not know," said the man, with a laugh. "It is of no use to kick, my good sir. I only wish you to understand that violence will do no good."

"Bah!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Frank angrily; and he walked straight out of the room on to the landing, trying to bang the door behind him; but the man caught it, and came out quickly and quietly after him.

"What shall I do?" thought Frank; and for a moment he was disposed to descend and leave the house, but he felt that he could not without first gaining possession of the letter. It would be impossible to bear the strain, especially with the accompaniment of the dread of its being discovered and placing information which might prove disastrous to his father in the hands of a spy.

The next minute his mind was made up. He determined to weary out the man if he could, while he on his part went up to his own old bedroom, which he used to occupy when he came home from school while his father and mother were in town. He would go up to it, and sit down and read if he could. The man should not come in there, of that he was determined; and he felt that he must risk the fellow's searching the place they had left.

"For if he has a key, he could come in at any time, and hunt about the place. But how did he get a key to fit the door?"

Frank thought for a few moments, and then it was plain enough: he had obtained it from the people who made the new door to the house.

"I must get the letter before I go," thought the boy now, "so as to send word to father that he must not venture to come again, because the place is so closely watched; and I must tell him of this piece of miserable intrusion."

He took a few steps down, and the man followed; but before the landing was reached, he turned sharply round, and began to ascend rapidly.

The man still followed close to his elbow, and in this way the second floor was reached, where the door of Frank's bedroom lay a little to the right.

The last time he was up there he was in company with his father in the dark, on the night of the escape, and a faint thrill of excitement ran through him as he recalled all that had pa.s.sed.

He turned sharply to the spy, and said indignantly:

"Look here, fellow, this is my bedroom;" and he pointed to the door.

"Yes, I know," said the man coolly; "but it's a long time since you slept there."

"And what's that to you? Go down. You are not coming in there."

"I have the warrant of his Majesty's Minister to go where I please on secret service, sir," said the man blandly; "and you, as one of the Prince's household, dare not try to stop me."

"Oh!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the boy fiercely; and seizing the door k.n.o.b he turned it quickly, meaning to rush in, bang the door in the fellow's face, and lock him out.

"Let him do his worst," thought Frank, who was now beside himself with rage; but he did not carry out his plan, for the door did not yield. It was locked, and as he rattled the k.n.o.b his fingers rubbed against the handle of the key.

Perhaps it was the friction against the steel which sent a flash of intelligence to his brain; but whether or no the flash darted there, and lit up that which the moment before was very dark with something akin to despair.

He rattled the handle to and fro several times; and uttering an e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n full of anger, he threw himself heavily against the door, but it did not of course yield.

"Pooh!" he cried; and letting go of the door k.n.o.b, he seized the handle of the key, and dragged and dragged at it, making it grate and rattle among the wards, each moment growing more excited, and ended by s.n.a.t.c.hing his hand away, and stamping furiously on the floor.

"Don't stand staring there, idiot!" he cried, with a flash of anger.

"Can't you see that key won't turn?"

"Not if you drag at it like that," said the man, smiling blandly. "That is good for locksmiths, not for locks;" and stepping calmly forward, he took hold of the key, turned it slowly so that the bolt shot back with a sharp snap; then, turning the k.n.o.b, he opened the door, walked into the little bedroom, and stood back a little, holding it so that there was room for Frank to pa.s.s in.

"Bah!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Frank savagely; and he stepped in, raising his right hand, and making a quick menacing gesture, as if to strike the man a heavy blow across the face.

Taken thoroughly by surprise by Frank's feint, the spy made a step back, when, quick as thought, the boy seized the handle, drew it to him, banging the door and turning the key, and stood panting outside, his enemy shut safely within.

"Here, open this door!" cried the man; and he began to thump heavily upon the panels. "Quick! before I break it down."

"Break it down," cried the boy tauntingly. "How clever for a spy to walk into a trap like that."

There was a moment's silence, and then--as if long coming--something which resembled the echo of Frank's angry stamp on the floor was heard, followed by a heavy b.u.mp. The man had thrown himself against the door.

"He won't break out in a hurry," muttered the boy; and he ran to the staircase, and in familiar old fas.h.i.+on seized the rail, threw himself half over, and let himself slide down the polished mahogany to the first floor, where he rushed in, closed and locked the door of the room, hurried excitedly to the picture door of the closet, the portrait of his ancestor seeming to his excited fancy to smile approval, and, as he applied his hand to the fastening, he heard faintly a noise overhead.

The next moment a chill ran through him, for the window of his bedroom had evidently been thrown open, and a clear, shrill whistle twice repeated rang out.

"That means help," thought Frank, and he hesitated; but it was now or never, he felt, and opening the closet, he s.n.a.t.c.hed the desired letter from the shelf, thrust it into his breast, and closed the closet once more.

The whistle was sounded again, and a fresh thought a.s.sailed the boy.

"They'll seize me, search me, and take the letter away. What shall I do?"

He ran to the window in time to see a strange man climb the rails, and drop into the garden, run toward the house, stoop down, and pick up something.

"The key that opens the front door," cried Frank in despair. "He must have thrown it out."

For a moment or two he stood helpless, unable to move; then, recalling the fact that the man would have to run round to the front door, he darted out of the room, bounded down the staircase, reached the hall door, and with hands trembling from the great excitement in which he was, he slipped the top and bottom bolts.

"Hah!" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed; "the key won't open them."

Then, darting to the top of the stairs leading down to the housekeeper's room, he ran almost into the old servant's arms.

"Oh, Master Frank, was that you whistling, sir?" she cried.

"No; that man upstairs."

"What man upstairs, my dear?"

"Hus.h.!.+ Don't stop me. Have you a fire there?"

"Yes, my dear; it is very chilly down in that stone-floored room, that I am obliged to have one lit."

"That's right. Go away; I want to be there alone. And listen, Berry; I have bolted the front door. If any one knocks, don't go."