ay to despair like that," cried
Frank. "We have heard so little yet. Father would fight to the last
before he would fly; but when all was over he would be too clever for
the enemy, and escape in safety to the coast."

"No," said Lady Gowan, in tones which startled her son. "Your father,
Frank, would never desert the men he had led. It would be to victory or
death. It was not to victory they marched that day."

"But his name is not mentioned in the despatch."

"No," said Lady Gowan sadly. "Nor is that of Colonel Forbes."

"Ah!" cried Frank; "and poor Drew, he would be there."

At last he was compelled to quit the poor, suffering woman; but before
going to his own chamber, he went over to the officers' quarters, to try
and see Captain Murray.

There was a light in his room, and the sound of voices in earnest
conversation; and Frank was turning back, to go and sit alone in his
despair, when he recognised the doctor's tones, and he knocked and
entered.

The eager conversation stopped on the instant, as the two occupants of
the room saw the boy's anxious, white face looking inquiringly from one
to the other.

"Come in and sit down," said Captain Murray, in a voice which told of
his emotion; "sit down, my boy."

Frank obeyed in silence, trying hard to read the captain's thoughts.

"You have come from your mother?"

"Yes; she is very ill."

"She has heard of the disaster, then?"

"Yes. The Princess went and broke it to her as gently as she could."

"And she told you?"

"Yes; she sent for me as soon as she heard."

"Poor lady!" said the captain.

"Amen to that," said the doctor huskily; and he pulled out his
snuff-box, and took three pinches in succession, making himself sneeze
violently as an excuse for taking out his great red-and-yellow silk
handkerchief and using it to a great extent.

"Hah!" he said at last, as he looked across at Frank, with his eyes
quite wet; "and poor old Robert Gowan! Rebel, they call him; but we
here, Frank, can only look upon him more as brother than friend."

"But," cried the boy passionately, "there is hope for him yet. He is
not taken, in spite of what my mother said. He would have escaped to
the coast, and made again for France."

"What did your mother say?" asked Captain Murray, looking at the boy
fixedly.

"My mother say? That my father would never forsake the men whom he was
leading to victory or death."

"Yes; she was right, Frank, my lad. He would ne