over him to show him I have found out that he has been trying to cheat
me into going off."

The boy felt so satisfied and at ease that he was more and more
unwilling to hurt his fellow-prisoner's feelings, and after a while he
spoke.

"I suppose they'll give us something to eat," he said.

Andrew looked up at him in astonishment, but only to frown the next
moment and turn his head away again.

Frank went to the window and stood looking out, one corner commanding a
view of the Park; and after watching the people come and go for some
time, he suddenly turned to his companion:

"Here are the Horse Guards coming, Drew. Want to see them?"

"No. Will you have the goodness to leave me in peace?"

"No," said Frank quietly. "How can I? We're shut up together here
perhaps for ever so long, and we can't keep up that miserable quarrel
now. Hadn't we better shake hands?"

"What do you suppose I'm made of?" said Andrew fiercely.

"Same stuff as I am," replied Frank almost as sharply; "and as I've
shown myself ready to forgive and forget what has happened, you ought to
do the same."

But it was of no use. Try how he would to draw Andrew into
conversation, the latter refused to speak; and at last the boy gave up
in despair, and began to look about the captain's room for something out
of which he could drag some amusement. This last he had to extract from
one of the books on a shelf; but it proved dry and uninteresting, though
it is doubtful whether one of the most cheery nature would have held his
attention long. For he had so much to think about that his mind refused
to grasp the meaning of the different sentences, and one minute he was
wondering whether his father would venture to the house, the next he was
going over the scene of the quarrel in the antechamber. Then he thought
sadly about his interview with his mother, but only to feel elated and
happy, though it was mingled with sorrow at having given her so much
pain.

A little resentment began to spring up, too, against Andrew, as the true
cause of it all, but it did not last; he felt far too much at rest for
that, and the anger gave way to pity for the high-spirited, excitable
lad seated there in the deepest dejection, and he began to wish now that
he had not called him a liar and struck him.

"I shall go melancholy mad," muttered Frank at last, "if they keep us
shut up long, and Drew goes on like this. But I wonder whether there
will really be a risin