t
wretched German baron's life. Not pleasant to have known that you had
killed a man in a quarrel, Frank."

"Horrible, father!" said the boy emphatically.

"Yes, horrible, lad. But the doctor is a better man at wounds than he
is at giving counsel. No, Frank, under any circumstances it would not
have done. King George is too hard and matter-of-fact a man of the
world to be stirred by my boy's appeal. His German folk would look upon
it as weakness, and would be offended. He cannot afford to offend the
German people, for he has no real English friends, and between the two
stools he'd be afraid of coming to the ground. No, you shall not humble
yourself to do this; and," he said firmly, "it is too late."

There was something so commanding in the way these last words were said
that Frank drew a deep sigh of regret, and the hopeful vision faded away
behind the cloud his father drew over it. But the minutes were
precious, and he could not afford time to regret the dashing of his
hopes, when he had him for whose benefit they were designed sitting
there holding his hand.

"Then you are going to stay here now, father?" he said.

"Here? No, Frank. It is only a temporary hiding-place. I shall be off
to-morrow."

"Where to, father?"

"Humph! Don't know for certain, my boy. As you say, the place swarms
with spies, and though I have had to give up my gay uniform, plenty of
people know my face, and I don't even feel now that they are not hunting
me down."

"But if they did, what would happen?"

"A fight, Frank--don't tell your mother this; she suffers enough. I
can't afford to be captured, and--you know what they do with the poor
wretches they take?"

Frank shivered, and glanced at his father's sword and pistols.

"Loaded, father?" he said in a whisper. "Yes, boy."

"And is your sword sharp?"

"As sharp as the cutler could make it. And I know how to use it, Frank;
but a man who carries a sword--if he is a man--is like a bee with its
sting; he will not use it save at the last extremity. You must remember
that with yours."

"Yes, father. But do think again; we are both so unhappy there at the
court."

"What, in the midst of luxury and show!" said Sir Robert banteringly.

"Pah! What is the use of all that when we know that you are driven away
and dare not show your face? Oh, do think again. Can't you let us come
and join you?"

"It is impossible, my boy. Don't press me. I have too many troubles