lled on very slowly in the opposite direction,
making for a clump of trees and bushes about a couple of hundred yards
away, feeling that this must be right, and upon reaching the end, going
on about half its length, and then carelessly seating himself on the
grass about ten feet from the nearest bush.
After a short time, passed in wondering whether Drew would be able to
get hidden behind him unseen, he took out his pocket-book and pencil,
and with trembling fingers began to sketch. Fortunately he had taken
lessons at the big Hampshire school, and often received help from his
mother, who was clever with her pencil, so that to give colour to his
position there he went on drawing, a tiny reproduction of the landscape
across the water slowly growing up beneath his pencil-point. But it was
done almost unconsciously, for he was trembling with dread lest his
object there should be divined and result in Andrew being captured, now
that a stricter watch than ever was kept about the surroundings of the
Palace.
One moment he felt strong in the belief that no one could penetrate his
old companion's disguise; the next he was shuddering in dread of what
the consequences would be, and wishing that Drew had not come. At the
same time he was touched to the heart at the lad running such a risk
when he had escaped to safety among his London friends. For Drew had
evidently assumed this pitiful disguise on purpose to come and see him.
There could be no other object than that of trying to see his friend.
Would he be able to speak to him again?
"I say, they're keeping a sharp look-out, Franky," came from behind in a
sharp whisper, making him start violently.
"Don't do that. Go on sketching," whispered Drew; and Frank devoted
himself at once to his book. "That fellow went on, and began talking to
another. I saw him, but I don't think he saw me. I say, I shall have
to go soon."
"Yes, yes; I want you to stay, Drew, but pray, pray escape!"
"Why?"
"Because I wouldn't for worlds have you taken."
There was a few moments' pause, and then Drew spoke huskily.
"Thank ye," he said. "I was obliged to come and see you again. I
wanted to tell you that I'm sorry I didn't shake hands with you, Frank."
"Ah!--I'll slip back to where you are and shake hands now," cried the
boy excitedly.
"No, no; pray don't move. It's too risky; I don't want to be caught. I
must be with those who are going to rescue my father and yours
to-morr
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