e world
had suddenly turned back. Andrew Forbes met him in the most friendly
way after breakfast. He was almost affectionate in his greeting.

"Didn't dream about the traitors' heads on Temple Bar, did you?"

"No," said Frank coldly. "I lay awake and thought about them."

"Ugh!" ejaculated Andrew, with a shudder. "What gruesome things to take
to bed with you. I didn't; I was so tired that I went off directly and
slept like a top."

Frank looked at him in disgust.

"Hallo! what's the matter?" cried his fellow-page. "Not well?"

"I was wondering whether you had any conscience."

"I say, hark at the serious old man!" cried Andrew merrily. "Whatever
made you ask that?"

"Because it seemed impossible you could have one, to treat it all so
lightly after taking me there last night."

"I don't see how you can call it that. You were invited, and you went
with me."

"That's a contemptible piece of shuffling," cried Frank.

Andrew flushed up and frowned.

"Pooh!" he said, laughing it off. "You are tired and cross this
morning. What a fellow you are for wanting to quarrel! But we can't do
that, now we're brethren."

"No, we are not," said Frank hotly. "I'll have nothing to do with the
miserable business."

"Colt kicking on first feeling his harness," said Andrew merrily.
"Never mind, Frank; you'll soon get used to it."

"Never."

"And it's a grand harness to wear. I say, what's the good of making a
fuss about it? You'll thank me one of these days."

"Then you have no conscience," cried Frank sternly.

"Why, Frank, old boy, you make me feel quite young beside you. What a
serious old man you've grown into! But if you will have it out about
conscience," he continued warmly, after a glance at each of the doors
opening out of the room in which they were, "I'll tell you this: my
conscience would not let me, any more than would the consciences of
thousands more, settle down to being ruled over by a German prince,
invited here by a party of scheming politicians, to the exclusion of the
rightful heir to the throne. What do you say to that?"

"Only this," said Frank: "that you and I have nothing to do with such
things as who ought to be king or who ought not. We're the Prince's
servants, and we are bound to do our duty to him and his father. If we
go on as you propose, we become conspirators and traitors."

"Oh, I say, what a sermon; what a lot about nothing! People don't study
these things in wa