so, of course, but they were delighted to hear he got away, though they
say they wouldn't wonder if you were dismissed."

"I don't care, if my mother has to leave too."

"Ah! but the Princess wouldn't let her go. I say, how do you feel now?"

"Very miserable," said Frank sadly.

"Nonsense! You mean not so precious loyal as you were."

"If you are going to begin about that business again, I am going," said
Frank coldly.

"I've done. I'm satisfied. You'll be as eager on the other side some
day, Frank; and I like you all the better for being so staunch as you
are. As my father says, it makes you the better worth winning."

"When did your father say that?" cried Frank sharply.

"Never mind. Perhaps he wrote it to me. You can't expect me to be
quite open with you if you're not with me. But, I say," cried the lad
enthusiastically, "it's grand!"

"What is?"

"For us to be both with our fathers banished. Why, Frank, it's like
making heroes of us."

"Making geese of us! What nonsense!"

"Just as you like; but I shall feel what I please. I never did see such
a fellow as you are, though. You have no more romance in you than a big
drum. But, I say, tell us all about it."

With a little pressing Frank told him all, the narrative being given, in
an undertone, and after a faithful promise of secrecy, on one of the
benches under a tree in the Park, while Andrew sat with his fingers
interlaced and nipped between his knees, flushed of face, his eyes
flashing, and his teeth set.

"Oh," he cried at last, "I wish I had been there, and it had come to a
fight."

"What good would that have done?" said Frank.

"Oh, I don't know; but what a night! It was glorious! And to think
that all the while I was moping alone over a stupid book, while you were
enjoying yourself like that."

"Enjoying myself!" cried Frank scornfully.

"Yes, enjoying yourself. There, with your sword out, defending your
beautiful mother from the Guards, after saving your father's life, and
keeping the castle--house, I mean--against the men who were battering
down the gate--door."

"Well," said Frank drily, "if I have no more romance in me than there is
in a big drum, you have."

"I should think I have!" cried the lad, whose handsome, effeminate face
was scarlet with his excitement. "Why, you cold-blooded, stony-hearted
old countryman, can't you see that you were doing man's work, and having
glorious adventures?"

"No; only that it