rning "Take
care," and he looked straight before him again as he went out by the
Park gate, and turned back and through the streets till they reached the
front of the house, where men were nailing up boards, and a couple of
soldiers stood on duty, marching up and down, as if some royal personage
were within.

Frank glanced at the workmen, and would have increased his pace, but
Andrew had hold of his arm and kept him back.

"Don't hurry," he said quietly; and then lightly to one of the sentries,
"Got some prisoners inside, my man?"

The sentry grinned, and gave his head a side wise nod toward Frank.

"Ask this young gentleman, sir; he knows."

Frank flushed scarlet, as he turned sharply to the man, whom he now
recognised as one of the Guards who entered the drawing-room with the
officer.

"Ah, to be sure," said Andrew coolly; and nodding carelessly, he went on
and out by the gate into the Park at the end of the street, where the
old man they had previously seen was holding on by the railings coughing
violently.

"Poor old gentleman!" said Andrew sarcastically, but loud enough for him
to hear; "he seems to be suffering a good deal from that cough."

The man bent his head lower till his brow rested on the hand which held
on by the railings, and coughed more than ever.

"You needn't have made remarks about him," whispered Frank. "I'm afraid
he heard what you said."

"I meant him to hear," said Andrew loudly; and he stopped and looked
back directly. "A miserable, contemptible impostor. I could cure his
wretched cough in two minutes with that stick he leans on."

The man started as if he had received a blow, and raised his head to
glare fiercely at the youth, who was looking him superciliously up and
down.

"Look at him, Frank," continued Andrew; "did you ever see such a
miserable, hangdog-looking cur?"

Frank felt in agony, and gripped his companion by the arm.

"Did you mean that to insult me, boy?" said the man angrily.

"Done it without the stick," said Andrew, not appearing to notice the
man's words. "You see a good lash from the tongue was enough. Now, can
you imagine it possible that any one could sink so low as to earn his
living by watching his fellow-creatures, spying their every act, and
then betraying them for the sake of a few dirty shillings, to send them
to prison or to the gibbet? There can be nothing on earth so base as a
thing like this. Why, a footpad is a nobleman compared to him.