THE CHILDREN OF THE NEW FOREST. 

BY CAPT. MARRYAT, R. N. 

1864. 

CHAPTER I. 

The circumstances which I am about to relate to my juvenile readerstook place in the year 1647. By referring to the history of England, of that date, they will find that King Charles the First, against whomthe Commons of England had rebelled, after a civil war of nearly fiveyears, had been defeated, and was confined as a prisoner at HamptonCourt. The Cavaliers, or the party who fought for King Charles, hadall been dispersed and the Parliamentary army under the command ofCromwell were beginning to control the Commons. 

It was in the month of November in this year that King Charles, accompanied by Sir John Berkely, Ashburnham, and Legg, made his escapefrom Hampton Court, and rode as fast as the horses could carry themtoward that part of Hampshire which led to the New Forest. The kingexpected that his friends had provided a vessel in which he mightescape to France, but in this he was disappointed. There was no vesselready, and after riding for some time along the shore, he resolved togo to Titchfield, a seat belonging to the Earl of Southampton. After along consultation with those who attended him, he yielded to theiradvice, which was, to trust to Colonel Hammond, who was governor ofthe Isle of Wight for the Parliament, but who was supposed to befriendly to the king. Whatever might be the feelings of commiserationof Colonel Hammond toward a king so unfortunately situated, he wasfirm in his duties toward his employers, and the consequence was thatKing Charles found himself again a prisoner in Carisbrook Castle. 

But we must now leave the king and retrace history to the commencementof the civil war. A short distance from the town of Lymington, whichis not far from Titchfield, where the king took shelter, but on theother side of Southampton Water, and south of the New Forest, to whichit adjoins, was a property called Arnwood, which belonged to aCavalier of the name of Beverley. It was at that time a property ofconsiderable value, being very extensive, and the park ornamented withvaluable timber; for it abutted on the New Forest, and might have beensupposed to have been a continuation of it. This Colonel Beverley, aswe must call him, for he rose to that rank in the king's army, was avalued friend and companion of Prince Rupert, and commanded severaltroops of cavalry. He was ever at his side in the brilliant chargesmade by this gallant prince, and at last fell in his arms at thebattle of Naseby. Colonel Beverley had married into the family of theVilliers, and the issue of his marriage was two sons and twodaughters; but his zeal and sense of duty had induced him, at thecommencement of the war, to leave his wife and family at Arnwood, andhe was fated never to meet them again. The news of his death had suchan effect upon Mrs. Beverley, already worn with anxiety on herhusband's account, that a few months afterward she followed him to anearly tomb, leaving the four children under the charge of an elderlyrelative, till such time as the family of the Villiers could protectthem; but, as will appear by our history, this was not at that periodpossible. The life of a king and many other lives were in jeopardy, and the orphans remained at Arnwood, still under the care of theirelderly relation, at the time that our history commences. 

The New Forest, my readers are perhaps aware, was first inclosed byWilliam the Conqueror as a royal forest for his own amusement--for inthose days most crowned heads were passionately fond of the chase; andthey may also recollect that his successor, William Rufus, met hisdeath in this forest by the glancing of an arrow shot by Sir WalterTyrrell. Since that time to the present day it has continued a royaldomain. At the period of which we are writing, it had an establishmentof verderers and keepers, paid by the crown, amounting to some fortyor fifty men. At the commencement of the civil war they remained attheir posts, but soon found, in the disorganized state of the country, that their wages were no longer to be obtained; and then, when theking had decided upon raising an army, Beverley, who held a superioroffice in the Forest, enrolled all the young and athletic men who wereemployed in the Forest, and marched them away with him to join theking's army. Some few remained, their age not rendering their servicesof value, and among them was an old and attached servant of Beverley, a man above sixty years of age, whose name was Jacob Armitage, and whohad obtained the situation through Colonel Beverley's interest. Thosewho remained in the Forest lived in cottages many miles asunder, andindemnified themselves for the non-payment of their salaries bykilling the deer for sale and for their own subsistence. 

The cottage of Jacob Armitage was situated on the skirts of the NewForest, about a mile and a half from the mansion of Arnwood; and whenColonel Beverley went to join the king's troops, feeling how littlesecurity there would be for his wife and children in those troubledtimes, he requested the old man, by his attachment to the family, notto lose sight of Arnwood, but to call there as often as possible tosee if he could be of service to Mrs. Beverley. The colonel would havepersuaded Jacob to have altogether taken up his residence at themansion, but to this the old man objected. He had been all his lifeunder the greenwood tree, and could not bear to leave the forest. Hepromised the colonel that he would watch over his family, and ever beat hand when required; and he kept his word. The death of ColonelBeverley was a heavy blow to the old forester, and he watched overMrs. Beverley and the orphans with the greatest solicitude; but whenMrs. Beverley followed her husband to the tomb, he then redoubled hisattentions, and was seldom more than a few hours at a time away fromthe mansion. The two boys were his inseparable companions, and heinstructed them, young as they were, in all the secrets of his owncalling. Such was the state of affairs at the time that King Charlesmade his escape from Hampton Court; and I now shall resume mynarrative from where it was broken off. 

As soon as the escape of Charles I. Was made known to Cromwell and theParliament, troops of horse were dispatched in every direction to thesouthward, toward which the prints of the horses' hoofs proved that hehad gone. As they found that he had proceeded in the direction of theNew Forest, the troops were subdivided and ordered to scour theforest, in parties of twelve to twenty, while others hastened down toSouthampton, Lymington, and every other seaport or part of the coastfrom which the king might be likely to embark. Old Jacob had been atArnwood on the day before, but on this day he had made up his mind toprocure some venison, that he might not go there again empty-handed;for Miss Judith Villiers was very partial to venison, and was not slowto remind Jacob, if the larder was for many days deficient in thatmeat. Jacob had gone out accordingly; he had gained his leewardposition of a fine buck, and was gradually nearing him by stealth--nowbehind a huge oak tree, and then crawling through the high fern, so asto get within shot unperceived, when on a sudden the animal, which hadbeen quietly feeding, bounded away and disappeared in the thicket. Atthe same time Jacob perceived a small body of horse galloping throughthe glen in which the buck had been feeding. Jacob had never yet seenthe Parliamentary troops, for they had not during the war been sentinto that part of the country, but their iron skull-caps, their buffaccouterments, and dark habiliments assured him that such these mustbe; so very different were they from the gayly-equipped Cavaliercavalry commanded by Prince Rupert. At the time that they advanced, Jacob had been lying down in the fern near to some low black-thornbushes; not wishing to be perceived by them, he drew back between thebushes, intending to remain concealed until they should gallop out ofsight; for Jacob thought, "I am a king's forester, and they mayconsider me as an enemy, and who knows how I may be treated by them?"But Jacob was disappointed in his expectations of the troops ridingpast him; on the contrary, as soon as they arrived at an oak treewithin twenty yards of where he was concealed, the order was given tohalt and dismount; the sabers of the horsemen clattered in their ironsheaths as the order was obeyed, and the old man expected to beimmediately discovered; but one of the thorn bushes was directlybetween him and the troopers, and effectually concealed him. At lastJacob ventured to raise his head and peep through the bush; and heperceived that the men were loosening the girths of their blackhorses, or wiping away the perspiration from their sides with handfulsof fern. 

A powerfully-formed man, who appeared to command the others, wasstanding with his hand upon the arched neck of his steed, whichappeared as fresh and vigorous as ever, although covered with foam andperspiration. "Spare not to rub down, my men, " said he, "for we havetried the mettle of our horses, and have now but one half-hour'sbreathing-time. We must be on, for the work of the Lord must be done. "

"They say that this forest is many miles in length and breadth, "observed another of the men, "and we may ride many a mile to nopurpose; but here is James Southwold, who once was living in it as averderer; nay, I think that he said that he was born and bred in thesewoods. Was it not so, James Southwold?"

"It is even as you say, " replied an active-looking young man; "I wasborn and bred in this forest, and my father was a verderer before me. "

Jacob Armitage, who listened to the conversation, immediatelyrecognized the young man in question. He was one of those who hadjoined the king's army with the other verderers and keepers. It painedhim much to perceive that one who had always been considered a frank, true-hearted young man, and who left the forest to fight in defense ofhis king, was now turned a traitor, and had joined the ranks of theenemy; and Jacob thought how much better it had been for JamesSouthwold, if he had never quitted the New Forest, and had not beencorrupted by evil company; "he was a good lad, " thought Jacob, "andnow he is a traitor and a hypocrite. "

"If born and bred in this forest, James Southwold, " said the leader ofthe troop, "you must fain know all its mazes and paths. Now, call tomind, are there no secret hiding-places in which people may remainconcealed; no thickets which may cover both man and horse?Peradventure thou mayest point out the very spot where this manCharles may be hidden?"

"I do know one dell, within a mile of Arnwood, " replied JamesSouthwold, "which might cover double our troop from the eyes of themost wary. "

"We will ride there, then, " replied the leader. "Arnwood, sayest thou?is not that the property of the Malignant Cavalier Beverley, who wasshot down at Naseby?"

"Even so, " replied Southwold; "and many is the time--that is, in theolden time, before I was regenerated--many is the day of revelry thatI have passed there; many the cup of good ale that I have quaffed. "

"And thou shalt quaff it again, " replied the leader. "Good ale was notintended only for Malignants, but for those who serve diligently. After we have examined the dell which thou speakest of, we will directour horses' heads toward Arnwood. "

"Who knows but what the man Charles may be concealed in theMalignant's house?" observed another. 

"In the day I should say no, " replied the leader; "but in the nightthe Cavaliers like to have a roof over their heads; and, therefore, atnight, and not before, will we proceed thither. "

"I have searched many of their abodes, " observed another, "but searchis almost in vain. What with their spring panels, and secret doors, their false ceilings, and double walls, one may ferret forever, andfind nothing. "

"Yes, " replied the leader, "their abodes are full of these popishabominations; but there is one way which is sure; and if the manCharles be concealed in any house, I venture to say that I will findhim. Fire and smoke will bring him forth; and to every Malignant'shouse within twenty miles will I apply the torch; but it must be atnight, for we are not sure of his being housed during the day. JamesSouthwold, thou knowest well the mansion of Arnwood?"

"I know well my way to all the offices below--the buttery, the cellar, and the kitchen; but I can not say that I have ever been into theapartments of the upper house. "

"That it needeth not; if thou canst direct us to the lower entrance itwill be sufficient. "

"That can I, Master Ingram, " replied Southwold, "and to where the bestale used to be found. "

"Enough, Southwold, enough; our work must be done, and diligently. Now, my men, tighten your girths; we will just ride to the dell: if itconceals not whom we seek, it shall conceal us till night, and thenthe country shall be lighted up with the flames of Arnwood, while wesurround the house and prevent escape. Levelers, to horse!"

The troopers sprung upon their saddles, and went off at a hard trot, Southwold leading the way. Jacob remained among the fern until theywere out of sight, and then rose up. He looked for a short time in thedirection in which the troopers had gone, stooped down again to takeup his gun, and then said, "There's providence in this; yes, andthere's providence in my not having my dog with me, for he would nothave remained quiet for so long a time. Who would ever have thoughtthat James Southwold would have turned a traitor! more than traitor, for he is now ready to bite the hand that has fed him, to burn thehouse that has ever welcomed him. This is a bad world, and I thankHeaven that I have lived in the woods. But there is no time to lose;"and the old forester threw his gun over his shoulder, and hastenedaway in the direction of his own cottage. 

"And so the king has escaped, " thought Jacob, as he went along, "andhe may be in the forest! Who knows but he may be at Arnwood, for hemust hardly know where to go for shelter? I must haste and see MissJudith immediately. 'Levelers, to horse!' the fellow said. What's aLeveler?" thought Jacob. 

As perhaps my readers may ask the same question, they must know that alarge proportion of the Parliamentary army had at this time assumedthe name of Levelers, in consequence of having taken up the opinionthat every man should be on an equality, and property should beequally divided. The hatred of these people to any one above them inrank or property, especially toward those of the king's party, whichmostly consisted of men of rank and property, was unbounded, and theywere merciless and cruel to the highest degree, throwing off much ofthat fanatical bearing and language which had before distinguished thePuritans. Cromwell had great difficulty in eventually putting themdown, which he did at last accomplish by hanging and slaughteringmany. Of this Jacob knew nothing; all he knew was, that Arnwood was tobe burned down that night, and that it would be necessary to removethe family. As for obtaining assistance to oppose the troopers, thathe knew to be impossible. As he thought of what must take place, hethanked God for having allowed him to gain the knowledge of what wasto happen, and hastened on his way. He had been about eight miles fromArnwood when he had concealed himself in the fern. Jacob first went tohis cottage to deposit his gun, saddled his forest pony, and set offfor Arnwood. In less than two hours the old man was at the door of themansion; it was then about three o'clock in the afternoon, and beingin the month of November, there was not so much as two hours ofdaylight remaining. "I shall have a difficult job with the stiff oldlady, " thought Jacob, as be rung the bell; "I don't believe that shewould rise out of her high chair for old Noll and his whole army athis back. But we shall see. "

CHAPTER II. 

Before Jacob is admitted to the presence of Miss Judith Villiers, wemust give some account of the establishment at Arnwood. With theexception of one male servant, who officiated in the house and stableas his services might be required, every man of the household ofColonel Beverley had followed the fortunes of their master, and asnone had returned, they, in all probability had shared his fate. Threefemale servants, with the man above mentioned, composed the wholehousehold. Indeed, there was every reason for not increasing theestablishment, for the rents were either paid in part, or not paid atall. It was generally supposed that the property, now that theParliament had gained the day, would be sequestrated, although suchwas not yet the case; and the tenants were unwilling to pay, to thosewho were not authorized to receive, the rents which they might beagain called upon to make good. Miss Judith Villiers, therefore, foundit difficult to maintain the present household; and although she didnot tell Jacob Armitage that such was the case, the fact was, thatvery often the venison which he brought to the mansion was all themeat that was in the larder. The three female servants held theoffices of cook, attendant upon Miss Villiers, and housemaid; thechildren being under the care of no particular servant, and left muchto themselves. There had been a chaplain in the house, but he hadquitted before the death of Mrs. Beverley, and the vacancy had notbeen filled up; indeed, it could not well be, for the one who left hadnot received his salary for many months, and Miss Judith Villiers, expecting every day to be summoned by her relations to bring thechildren and join them, sat in her high chair waiting for the arrivalof this summons, which, from the distracted state of the times, hadnever come. 

As we have before said, the orphans were four in number; the twoeldest were boys, and the youngest were girls. Edward, the eldest boy, was between thirteen and fourteen years old; Humphrey, the second, wastwelve; Alice, eleven; and Edith, eight. As it is the history of theseyoung persons which we are about to narrate, we shall say little aboutthem at present, except that for many months they had been underlittle or no restraint, and less attended to. Their companions wereBenjamin, the man who remained in the house, and old Jacob Armitage, who passed all the time he could spare with them. Benjamin was ratherweak in intellect, and was a source of amusement rather thanotherwise. As for the female servants, one was wholly occupied withher attendance on Miss Judith, who was very exacting, and had a highnotion of her own consequence. The other two had more than sufficientemployment; as, when there is no money to pay with, every thing mustbe done at home. That, under such circumstances, the boys becameboisterous and the little girls became romps, is not to be wonderedat: but their having become so was the cause of Miss Judith seldomadmitting them into her room. It is true that they were sent for oncea day, to ascertain if they were in the house, or in existence, butsoon dismissed and left to their own resources. Such was the neglectto which these young orphans was exposed. It must, however, beadmitted, that this very neglect made them independent and bold, fullof health from constant activity, and more fitted for the change whichwas so soon to take place. 

"Benjamin, " said Jacob, as the other came to the door, "I must speakwith the old lady. "

"Have you brought any venison, Jacob?" said Benjamin, grinning, "else, I reckon, you'll not be over welcome. "

"No, I have not; but it is an important business, so send Agatha toher directly. "

"I will; and I'll not say any thing about the venison. "

In a few minutes, Jacob was ushered up by Agatha into Miss JudithVilliers's apartment. The old lady was about fifty years of age, veryprim and starched, sitting in a high-backed chair, with her feet upona stool, and her hands crossed before her, her black mittens reposingupon her snow-white apron. 

The old forester made his obeisance. 

"You have important business with us, I am told, " observed MissJudith. 

"Most important, madam, " replied Jacob. "In the first place, it isright that you should be informed that his majesty, King Charles, hasescaped from Hampton Court. "

"His majesty escaped!" replied the lady. 

"Yes; and is supposed to be secreted somewhere in this neighborhood. His majesty is not in this house, madam, I presume?"

"Jacob, his majesty is not in this house: if he were, I would suffermy tongue to be torn out sooner than I would confess it, even to you. "

"But I have more for your private ear, madam. "

"Agatha, retire; and Agatha, be mindful that you go down stairs, anddo not remain outside the door. "

Agatha, with this injunction, bounced out of the room, slamming-to thedoor so as to make Miss Judith start from her seat. 

"Ill-mannered girl!" exclaimed Miss Judith. "Now, Jacob Armitage, youmay proceed. "

Jacob then entered into the detail of what he had overheard thatmorning, when he fell in with the troopers, concluding with theinformation, that the mansion would be burned down that very night. Hethen pointed out the necessity of immediately abandoning the house, asit would be impossible to oppose the troopers. 

"And where am I to go to, Jacob?" said Miss Judith, calmly. 

"I hardly know, madam; there is my cottage; it is but a poor place, and not fit for one like you. "

"So I should presume, Jacob Armitage, neither shall I accept youroffer. It would ill befit the dignity of a Villiers to be frightenedout of her abode by a party of rude soldiers. Happen what will, Ishall not stir from this--no, not even from this chair. Neither do Iconsider the danger so great as you suppose. Let Benjamin saddle, andbe prepared to ride over to Lymington immediately. I will give him aletter to the magistrate there, who will send us protection. "

"But, madam, the children can not remain here. I will not leave themhere. I promised the colonel--"

"Will the children be in more danger than I shall be, Jacob Armitage?"replied the old lady, stiffly. "They dare not ill-treat me--they mayforce the buttery and drink the ale--they may make merry with that andthe venison which you have brought with you, I presume, but they willhardly venture to insult a lady of the House of Villiers. "

"I fear they will venture any thing, madam. At all events, they willfrighten the children, and for one night they will be better in mycottage. "

"Well, then, be it so; take them to your cottage, and take Martha toattend upon the Miss Beverleys. Go down now. And desire Agatha to cometo me, and Benjamin to saddle as fast as he can. "

Jacob left the room, satisfied with the permission to remove thechildren. He knew that it was useless to argue with Miss Judith, whowas immovable when once she had declared her intentions. He wasdebating in his own mind whether he should acquaint the servants withthe threatened danger; but he had no occasion to do so, for Agatha hadremained at the door while Jacob was communicating the intelligence, and as soon as he had arrived at that portion of it by which shelearned that the mansion was to be burned down that night, had run offto the kitchen to communicate the intelligence to the other servants. 

"I'll not stay to be burned to death, " exclaimed the cook, as Jacobcame in. "Well, Mr. Armitage, this is pretty news you have brought. What does my lady say!"

"She desires that Benjamin saddles immediately, to carry a letter toLymington; and you, Agatha, are to go up stairs to her. "

"But what does she mean to do? Where are we to go?" exclaimed Agatha. 

"Miss Judith intends to remain where she is. "

"Then she will remain alone, for me, " exclaimed the housemaid, who wasadmired by Benjamin. "Its bad enough to have little victuals and nowages, but as for being burned to death--Benjamin, put a pillionbehind your saddle, and I'll go to Lymington with you. I won't be longin getting my bundle. "

Benjamin, who was in the kitchen with the maids at the time that Jacobentered, made a sign significant of consent, and went away to thestable. Agatha went up to her mistress in a state of greatperturbation, and the cook also hurried away to her bedroom. 

"They'll all leave her, " thought Jacob; "well, my duty is plain; I'llnot leave the children in the house. " Jacob then went in search ofthem, and found them playing in the garden. He called the two boys tohim, and told them to follow him. 

"Now, Mr. Edward, " said he, "you must prove yourself your father's ownson. We must leave this house immediately; come up with me to yourrooms, and help me to pack up yours and your sisters' clothes, for wemust go to my cottage this night. There is no time to be lost. "

"But why, Jacob; I must know why?"

"Because the Parliamentary troopers will burn it down this night. "

"Burn it down! Why, the house is mine, is it not? Who dares to burndown this house?"

"They will dare it, and will do it. "

"But we will fight them, Jacob; we can bolt and bar; I can fire a gun, and hit too, as you know; then there's Benjamin and you. "

"And what can you and two men do against a troop of horse, my dearboy? If we could defend the place against them, Jacob Armitage wouldbe the first; but it is impossible, my dear boy. Recollect yoursisters. Would you have them burned to death, or shot by thesewretches? No, no, Mr. Edward; you must do as I say, and lose no time. Let us pack up what will be most useful, and load White Billy with thebundles; then you must all come to the cottage with me, and we willmake it out how we can. "

"That will be jolly!" said Humphrey; "come, Edward. "

But Edward Beverley required more persuasion to abandon the house; atlast, old Jacob prevailed, and the clothes were put up in bundles asfast as they could collect them. 

"Your aunt said Martha was to go with your sisters, but I doubt if shewill, " observed Jacob, "and I think we shall have no room for her, forthe cottage is small enough. "

"Oh no, we don't want her, " said Humphrey; "Alice always dresses Edithand herself too, ever since mamma died. "

"Now we will carry down the bundles, and you make them fast on thepony while I go for your sisters. "

"But where does aunt Judith go?" inquired Edward. 

"She will not leave the house, Master Edward; she intends to stay andspeak to the troopers. "

"And so an old woman like her remains to face the enemy, while I runaway from them!" replied Edward. "I will not go. "

"Well, Master Edward, " replied Jacob, "you must do as you please; butit will be cruel to leave your sisters here; they and Humphrey mustcome with me, and I can not manage to get them to the cottage withoutyou go with us; it is not far, and you can return in a very shorttime. "

To this Edward consented. The pony was soon loaded, and the littlegirls, who were still playing in the garden, were called in byHumphrey. They were told that they were going to pass the night in thecottage, and were delighted at the idea. 

"Now, Master Edward, " said Jacob, "will you take your sisters by thehand and lead them to the cottage? Here is the key of the door; MasterHumphrey can lead the pony; and Master Edward, " continued Jacob, taking him aside, "I'll tell you one thing which I will not mentionbefore your brother and sisters: the troopers are all about the NewForest, for King Charles has escaped, and they are seeking for him. You must not, therefore, leave your brother and sisters till I return. Lock the cottage-door as soon as it is dark. You know where to get alight, over the cupboard; and my gun is loaded, and hangs above themantlepiece. You must do your best if they attempt to force anentrance; but above all, promise me not to leave them till I return. Iwill remain here to see what I can do with your aunt, and when I comeback we can then decide how to act. "

This latter ruse of Jacob's succeeded. Edward promised that he wouldnot leave his sisters, and it wanted but a few minutes of twilightwhen the little party quitted the mansion of Arnwood. As they went outof the gates they were passed by Benjamin, who was trotting away withMartha behind him on a pillion, holding a bundle as large as herself. Not a word was exchanged, and Benjamin and Martha were soon out ofsight. 

"Why, where can Martha be going?" said Alice. "Will she be back whenwe come home to-morrow?"

Edward made no reply, but Humphrey said, "Well, she has taken plentyof clothes in that huge bundle for one night, at least. "

Jacob, as soon as he had seen the children on their way, returned tothe kitchen, where he found Agatha and the cook collecting theirproperty, evidently bent upon a hasty retreat. 

"Have you seen Miss Judith, Agatha?"

"Yes; and she told me that she should remain, and that I should standbehind her chair that she might receive the troopers with dignity; butI don't admire the plan. They might leave her alone, but I am surethat they will be rude to me. "

"When did Benjamin say he would be back?"

"He don't intend coming back. He said he would not, at all events, till to-morrow morning, and then he would ride out this way, toascertain if the report was false or true. But Martha has gone withhim. "

"I wish I could persuade the old lady to leave the house, " said Jacob, thoughtfully. "I fear they will not pay her the respect that shecalculates upon. Go up, Agatha, and say I wish to speak with her. "

"No, not I; I must be off, for it is dark already. "

"And where are you going, then?"

"To Gossip Allwood's. It's a good mile, and I have to carry mythings. "

"Well, Agatha, if you'll take me up to the old lady, I'll carry yourthings for you. "

Agatha consented, and as soon as she had taken up the lamp, for it wasnow quite dark, Jacob was once more introduced. 

"I wish, madam, " said Jacob, "you would be persuaded to leave thehouse for this night. "

"Jacob Armitage, leave this house I will not, if it were filled withtroopers; I have said so. "

"But, madam--"

"No more, sir; you are too forward, " replied the old lady, haughtily. 

"But, madam--"

"Leave my presence, Jacob Armitage, and never appear again. Quit theroom, and send Agatha here. "

"She has left, madam, and so has the cook, and Martha went away behindBenjamin; when I leave, you will be alone. "

"They have dared to leave?"

"They dared not stay, madam. "

"Leave me, Jacob Armitage, and shut the door when you go out. " Jacobstill hesitated. "Obey me instantly, " said the old lady; and theforester, finding all remonstrance useless, went out, and obeyed herlast commands by shutting the door after him. 

Jacob found Agatha and the other maid in the court-yard; he took uptheir packages, and, as he promised, accompanied them to GossipAllwood, who kept a small ale-house about a mile distant. 

"But, mercy on us! what will become of the children?" said Agatha, asthey walked along, her fears for herself having up to this time madeher utterly forgetful of them. "Poor things! and Martha has leftthem. "

"Yes, indeed; what will become of the dear babes?" said the cook, halfcrying. 

Now Jacob, knowing that the children of such a Malignant as ColonelBeverley would have sorry treatment if discovered, and knowing alsothat women were not always to be trusted, determined not to tell themhow they were disposed of. He therefore replied, "Who would hurt such young children as those? No, no, they are safeenough; even the troopers would protect them. "

"I should hope so, " replied Agatha. 

"You may be sure of that; no man would hurt babies, " replied Jacob. "The troopers will take them with them to Lymington, I suppose. I'veno fear for them; it's the proud old lady whom they will be uncivilto. "

The conversation here ended, and in due time they arrived at the inn. Jacob had just put the bundles down on the table, when the clatteringof horses' hoofs was heard. Shortly afterward, the troopers pulledtheir horses up at the door, and dismounted. Jacob recognized theparty he had met in the forest, and among them Southwold. The trooperscalled for ale, and remained some time in the house, talking andlaughing with the women, especially Agatha, who was a very good-looking girl. Jacob would have retreated quietly, but he found asentinel posted at the door to prevent the egress of any person. Hereseated himself, and while he was listening to the conversation ofthe troopers he was recognized by Southwold, who accosted him. Jacobdid not pretend not to know him, as it would have been useless; andSouthwold put many questions to him as to who were resident atArnwood. Jacob replied that the children were there, and a fewservants, and he was about to mention Miss Judith Villiers, when athought struck him--he might save the old lady. 

"You are going to Arnwood, I know, " said Jacob, "and I have heard whoyou are in search of. Well, Southwold, I'll give you a hint. I may bewrong; but if you should fall in with an old lady or something likeone when you go to Arnwood, mount her on your crupper and away withher to Lymington as fast as you can ride. You understand me?"Southwold nodded significantly, and squeezed Jacob's hand. 

"One word, Jacob Armitage; if I succeed in the capture by your means, it is but fair that you should have something for your hint. Where canI find you the day after to-morrow?"

"I am leaving the country this night, and I must go. I am in trouble, that's the fact; when all is blown over, I will find you out. Don'tspeak to me any more just now. " Southwold again squeezed Jacob's hand, and left him. Shortly afterward the order was given to mount, and thetroopers set off. 

Armitage followed slowly and unobserved. They arrive at the mansionand surrounded it. Shortly afterward he perceived the glare oftorches, and in a quarter of an hour more thick smoke rose up in thedark but clear sky; at last the flames burst forth from the lowerwindows of the mansion, and soon afterward they lighted up the countryround to some distance. 

"It is done, " thought Jacob; and he turned to bend his hasty stepstoward his own cottage, when he heard the galloping of a horse andviolent screams; a minute afterward James Southwold passed him withthe old lady tied behind him, kicking and struggling as hard as shecould. Jacob smiled as he thought that he had by his little stratagemsaved the old woman's life, for that Southwold imagined that she wasKing Charles dressed up as an old woman was evident; and he thenreturned as fast as he could to the cottage. 

In half an hour Jacob had passed through the thick woods which werebetween the mansion and his own cottage, occasionally looking back, asthe flames of the mansion rose higher and higher, throwing their lightfar and wide. He knocked at the cottage-door; Smoker, a large dogcross-bred between the fox and blood-hound, growled till Jacob spoketo him, and then Edward opened the door. 

"My sisters are in bed and fast asleep, Jacob, " said Edward, "andHumphrey has been nodding this half hour; had he not better go to bedbefore we go back?"

"Come out, Master Edward, " replied Jacob, "and look. " Edward beheldthe flames and fierce light between the trees and was silent. 

"I told you that it would be so, and you would all have been burned inyour beds, for they did not enter the house to see who was in it, butfired it as soon as they had surrounded it. "

"And my aunt!" exclaimed Edward, clasping his hands. 

"Is safe, Master Edward, and by this time at Lymington. "

"We will go to her to-morrow. "

"I fear not; you must not risk so much, Master Edward. These Levelersspare nobody, and you had better let it be supposed that you are allburned in the house. "

"But my aunt knows the contrary, Jacob. "

"Very true; I quite forgot that. " And so Jacob had. He expected thatthe old woman would have been burned, and then nobody would have knownof the existence of the children; he forgot, when he planned to saveher, that she knew where the children were. 

"Well, Master Edward, I will go to Lymington to-morrow and see the oldlady; but you must remain here, and take charge of your sisters till Icome back, and then we will consider what is to be done. The flamesare not so bright as they were. "

"No. It is my house that these Roundheads have burned down, " saidEdward, shaking his fist. 

"It was your house, Master Edward, and it was your property, but howlong it will be so remains to be seen. I fear that it will beforfeited. "

"Wo to the people who dare take possession of it!" cried Edward; "Ishall, if I live, be a man one of these days. "

"Yes, Master Edward, and then you will reflect more than you do now, and not be rash. Let us go into the cottage, for it's no use remainingout in the cold; the frost is sharp to-night. "

Edward slowly followed Jacob into the cottage. His little heart wasfull. He was a proud boy and a good boy, but the destruction of themansion had raised up evil thoughts in his heart--hatred to theCovenanters, who had killed his father and now burned the property--revenge upon them (how he knew not); but his hand was ready to strike, young as he was. He lay down on the bed, but he could not sleep. Heturned and turned again, and his brain was teeming with thoughts andplans of vengeance. Had he said his prayers that night he would havebeen obliged to repeat, "Forgive us as we forgive them who trespassagainst us. " At last, he fell fast asleep, but his dreams were wild, and he often called out during the night and woke his brother andsisters. 

CHAPTER III. 

The next morning, as soon as Jacob had given the children theirbreakfast, he set off toward Arnwood. He knew that Benjamin had statedhis intention to return with the horse and see what had taken place, and he knew him well enough to feel sure that he would do so. Hethought it better to see him if possible, and ascertain the fate ofMiss Judith. Jacob arrived at the still smoking ruins of the mansion, and found several people there, mostly residents within a few miles, some attracted by curiosity, others busy in collecting the heavymasses of lead which had been melted from the roof, and appropriatingthem to their own benefit; but much of it was still too hot to betouched, and they were throwing snow on it to cool it, for it hadsnowed during the night. At last, Jacob perceived Benjamin onhorseback riding leisurely toward him, and immediately went up to him. 

"Well, Benjamin, this is a woeful sight. What is the news fromLymington?"

"Lymington is full of troopers, and they are not over-civil, " repliedBenjamin. "And the old lady--where is she?"

"Ah, that's a sad business, " replied Benjamin, "and the poor children, too. Poor Master Edward! he would have made a brave gentleman. "

"But the old lady is safe, " rejoined Jacob. "Did you see her?"

"Yes, I saw her; they thought she was King Charles--poor old soul. "

"But they have found out their mistake by this time?"

"Yes, and James Southwold has found it out too, " replied Benjamin; "tothink of the old lady breaking his neck!"

"Breaking his neck? You don't say so! How was it?"

"Why, it seems that Southwold thought that she was King Charlesdressed up as an old woman, so he seized her and strapped her fastbehind him, and galloped away with her to Lymington; but she struggledand kicked so manfully, that he could not hold on, and off they wenttogether, and he broke his neck. "

"Indeed! A judgment--a judgment upon a traitor, " said Jacob. 

"They were picked up, strapped together as they were, by the othertroopers, and carried to Lymington. "

"Well, and where is the old lady, then? Did you see and speak to her?"

"I saw her, Jacob, but I did not speak to her. I forgot to say that, when she broke Southwold's neck, she broke her own too. "

"Then the old lady is dead?"

"Yes, that she is, " replied Benjamin; "but who cares about her? it'sthe poor children that I pity. Martha has been crying ever since. "

"I don't wonder. "

"I was at the Cavalier, and the troopers were there, and they wereboasting of what they had done, and called it a righteous work. Icould not stand that, and I asked one of them if it were a righteouswork to burn poor children in their beds? So he turned round, andstruck his sword upon the floor, and asked me whether I was one ofthem--'Who are you, then?' and I--all my courage went away, and Ianswered, I was a poor rat-catcher. 'A rat-catcher; are you? Well, then, Mr. Ratcatcher, when you are killing rats, if you find a nest ofyoung ones, don't you kill them too? or do you leave them to grow, andbecome mischievous, eh?' 'I kill the young ones, of course, ' repliedI. 'Well, so do we Malignants whenever we find them. ' I didn't say aword more, so I went out of the house as fast as I could. "

"Have you heard any thing about the king?" inquired Jacob. 

"No, nothing; but the troopers are all out again, and, I hear, aregone to the forest. "

"Well, Benjamin, good-by, I shall be off from this part of thecountry--it's no use my staying here. Where's Agatha and cook?"

"They came to Lymington early this morning. "

"Wish them good-by for me, Benjamin. "

"Where are you going, then?"

"I can't exactly say, but I think London way. I only staid here towatch over the children; and now that they are gone, I shall leaveArnwood forever. "

Jacob, who was anxious, on account of the intelligence he had receivedof the troopers being in the forest, to return to the cottage, shookhands with Benjamin, and hastened away. "Well, " thought Jacob, as hewended his way, "I'm sorry for the poor old lady, but still, perhaps, it's all for the best. Who knows what they might do with thesechildren! Destroy the nest as well as the rats, indeed! they must findthe nest first. " And the old forester continued his journey in deepthought. 

We may here observe that, blood-thirsty as many of the Levelers were, we do not think that Jacob Armitage had grounds for the fears which heexpressed and felt; that is to say, we believe that he might have madeknown the existence of the children to the Villiers family, and thatthey would never have been harmed by any body. That by the burning ofthe mansion they might have perished in the flames, had they been inbed, as they would have been at that hour, had he not obtainedintelligence of what was about to be done, is true; but that there wasany danger to them on account of their father having been such astanch supporter of the king's cause, is very unlikely, and not borneout by the history of the times: but the old forester thoughtotherwise; he had a hatred of the Puritans, and their deeds had beenso exaggerated by rumor, that he fully believed that the lives of thechildren were not safe. Under this conviction, and feeling himselfbound by his promise to Colonel Beverley to protect them, Jacobresolved that they should live with him in the forest, and be broughtup as his own grandchildren. He knew that there could be no betterplace for concealment; for, except the keepers, few people knew wherehis cottage was; and it was so out of the usual paths, and soimbosomed in lofty trees, that there was little chance of its beingseen, or being known to exist. He resolved, therefore, that theyshould remain with him till better times; and then he would make knowntheir existence to the other branches of the family, but not before. "I can hunt for them, and provide for them, " thought he, "and I have alittle money, when it is required; and I will teach them to be useful;they must learn to provide for themselves. There's the garden, and thepatch of land: in two or three years, the boys will be able to dosomething. I can't teach them much; but I can teach them to fear God. We must get on how we can, and put our trust in Him who is a father tothe fatherless. "

With such thoughts running in his head, Jacob arrived at the cottage, and found the children outside the door, watching for him. They allhastened to him, and the dog rushed before them, to welcome hismaster. "Down, Smoker, good dog! Well, Mr. Edward, I have been asquick as I could. How have Mr. Humphrey and your sisters behaved I Butwe must not remain outside to-day, for the troopers are scouring theforest, and may see you. Let us come in directly, for it would not dothat they should come here. "

"Will they burn the cottage down?" inquired Alice, as she took Jacob'shand. 

"Yes, my dear, I think they would, if they found that you and yourbrothers were in it; but we must not let them see you. "

They all entered the cottage, which consisted of one large room infront, and two back rooms for bedrooms. There was also a thirdbedroom, which was behind the other two, but which had not anyfurniture in it. 

"Now, let's see what we can have for dinner--there's venison left, Iknow, " said Jacob; "come, we must all be useful. Who will be cook?"

"I will be cook, " said Alice, "if you will show me how. "

"So you shall, my dear, " said Jacob, and I will show you how. There'ssome potatoes in the basket in the corner, and some onions hanging onthe string; we must have some water--who will fetch it?"

"I will, " said Edward, who took a pail, and went out to the spring. 

The potatoes were peeled and washed by the children--Jacob and Edwardcut the venison into pieces--the iron pot was cleaned; and then themeat and potatoes put with water into the pot, and placed on the fire. 

"Now I'll cut up the onions, for they will make your eyes water. "

"I don't care, " said Humphrey, "I'll cut and cry at the same time. "

And Humphrey took up a knife, and cut away most manfully, although hewas obliged to wipe his eyes with his sleeve very often. 

"You are a fine fellow, Humphrey, " said Jacob. "Now we'll put theonions in, and let it all boil up together. Now you see, you havecooked your own dinner; ain't that pleasant?"

"Yes, " cried they all; "and we will eat our own dinners as soon as itis ready. "

"Then, Humphrey, you must get some of the platters down which are onthe drawer; and, Alice, you will find some knives in the drawer. Andlet me see, what can little Edith do? Oh, she can go to the cupboardand find the salt-cellar. Edward, just look out, and if you see anybody coming or passing, let me know. We must put you on guard till thetroopers leave the forest. "

The children set about their tasks, and Humphrey cried out, as he veryoften did, "Now, this is jolly!"

While the dinner was cooking, Jacob amused the children by showingthem how to put things in order; the floor was swept, the hearth wasmade tidy. He shewed Alice how to wash out a cloth, and Humphrey howto dust the chairs. They all worked merrily, while little Edith stoodand clapped her hands. 

But just before dinner was ready, Edward came in and said, "Here aretroopers galloping in the forest!" Jacob went out, and observed thatthey were coming in a direction that would lead near to the cottage. 

He walked in, and, after a moment's thought, he said, "My dearchildren, those men may come and search the cottage; you must do as Itell you, and mind that you are very quiet. Humphrey, you and yoursisters must go to bed, and pretend to be very ill. Edward, take offyour coat and put on this old hunting-frock of mine. You must be inthe bedroom attending your sick brother and sisters. Come, Edith, dear, you must play at going to bed, and have your dinner afterward. "

Jacob took the children into the bedroom, and, removing the upperdress, which would have betrayed that they were not the children ofpoor people, put them in bed, and covered them up to the chins withthe clothes. Edward had put on the old hunting-shirt, which came belowhis knees, and stood with a mug of water in his hand by the bedside ofthe two girls. Jacob went to the outer room, to remove the platterslaid out for dinner; and he had hardly done so when he heard the noiseof the troopers, and soon afterward a knock at the cottage-door. 

"Come in, " said Jacob. 

"Who are you, my friend?" said the leader of the troop, entering thedoor. 

"A poor forester, sir, " replied Jacob, "under great trouble. "

"What trouble, my man?"

"I have the children all in bed with the small-pox. "

"Nevertheless, we must search your cottage. "

"You are welcome, " replied Jacob; "only don't frighten the children, if you can help it. "

The man, who was now joined by others, commenced his search. Jacobopened all the doors of the rooms, and they passed through. LittleEdith shrieked when she saw them; but Edward patted her, and told hernot to be frightened. The troopers, however, took no notice of thechildren; they searched thoroughly, and then came back to the frontroom. 

"It's no use remaining here, " said one of the troopers. "Shall we beoff! I'm tired and hungry with the ride. "

"So am I, and there's something that smells well. " said another. "What's this, my good man?" continued he, taking off the lid of thepot. 

"My dinner for a week, " replied Jacob. "I have no one to cook for menow, and can't light a fire every day. "

"Well, you appear to live well, if you have such a mess as that everyday in the week. I should like to try a spoonful or two. "

"And welcome, sir, " replied Jacob; "I will cook some more for myself. "

The troopers took him at his word; they sat down to the table, andvery soon the whole contents of the kettle had disappeared. Havingsatisfied themselves, they got up, told him that his rations were sogood that they hoped to call again; and, laughing heartily, theymounted their horses, and rode away. 

"Well, " said Jacob, "they are very welcome to the dinner; I littlethought to get off so cheap. " As soon as they were out of sight, Jacobcalled to Edward and the children to get up again, which they soondid. Alice put on Edith's frock, Humphrey put on his jacket, andEdward pulled off the hunting-shirt. 

"They're gone now, " said Jacob, coming in from the door. 

"And our dinners are gone, " said Humphrey, looking at the empty potand dirty platters. 

"Yes; but we can cook another, and that will be more play you know, "said Jacob. "Edward, go for the water; Humphrey, cut the onions;Alice, wash the potatoes; and Edith, help every body, while I cut upsome more meat. "

"I hope it will be as good, " observed Humphrey; "that other did smellso nice!"

"Quite as good, if not better; for we shall improve by practice, andwe shall have a better appetite to eat it with, " said Jacob. 

"Nasty men eat our dinner, " said Edith. "Shan't have any more. Eatthis ourselves. "

And so they did as soon as it was cooked; but they were very hungrybefore they sat down. 

"This is jolly!" said Humphrey with his mouth full. 

"Yes, Master Humphrey. I doubt if King Charles eats so good a dinnerthis day. Mr. Edward, you are very grave and silent. "

"Yes, I am, Jacob. Have I not cause? Oh, if I could but have mauledthose troopers!" "But you could not; so you must make the best of it. They say that every dog has his day, and who knows but King Charlesmay be on the throne again!"

There were no more visits to the cottage that day, and they all wentto bed, and slept soundly. 

The next morning, Jacob, who was most anxious to learn the news, saddled the pony, having first given his injunctions to Edward how tobehave in case any troopers should come to the cottage. He told him topretend that the children were in bed with the small-pox, as they haddone the day before. Jacob then traveled to Gossip Allwood's, and hethere learned that King Charles had been taken prisoner, and was atthe Isle of Wight, and that the troopers were all going back to Londonas fast as they came. Feeling that there was now no more danger to beapprehended from them, Jacob set off as fast as he could forLymington. He went to one shop and purchased two peasant dresses whichhe thought would fit the two boys, and at another he bought similarapparel for the two girls. Then, with several other ready-madearticles, and some other things which were required for the household, he made a large package, which he put upon the pony, and, taking thebridle, set off home, and arrived in time to superintend the cookingof the dinner, which was this day venison-steaks fried in a pan, andboiled potatoes. 

When dinner was over, he opened his bundle, and told the little onesthat, now they were to live in a cottage, they ought to wear cottageclothes, and that he had bought them some to put on, which they mightrove about the woods in, and not mind tearing them. Alice and Edithwent into the bedroom, and Alice dressed Edith and herself, and cameout quite pleased with their change of dress. Humphrey and Edward puttheirs on in the sitting-room, and they all fitted pretty well, andcertainly were very becoming to the children. 

"Now, recollect, you are all my grandchildren, " said Jacob; "for Ishall no longer call you Miss and Master--that we never do in acottage. You understand me, Edward, of course?" added Jacob. 

Edward nodded his head; and Jacob telling the children that they mightnow go out of the cottage and play, they all set off, quite delightedwith clothes which procured them their liberty. 

We must now describe the cottage of Jacob Armitage, in which thechildren have in future to dwell. As we said before, it contained alarge sitting-room, or kitchen, in which was a spacious hearth andchimney, table, stools, cupboards, and dressers: the two bedroomswhich adjoined it were now appropriated, one for Jacob and the otherfor the two boys; the third, or inner bedroom, was arranged for thetwo girls, as being more retired and secure. But there were outhousesbelonging to it: a stall, in which White Billy, the pony, lived duringthe winter; a shed and pigsty rudely constructed, with an inclosedyard attached to them; and it had, moreover, a piece of ground of morethan an acre, well fenced in to keep out the deer and game, thelargest portion of which was cultivated as a garden and potato-ground, and the other, which remained in grass, contained some fine old appleand pear-trees. Such was the domicile; the pony, a few fowls, a sowand two young pigs, and the dog Smoker, were the animals on theestablishment. Here Jacob Armitage had been born--for the cottage hadbeen built by his grandfather--but he had not always remained at thecottage. When young, he felt an inclination to see more of the world, and had for several years served in the army. His father and brotherhad lived in the establishment at Arnwood, and he was constantly thereas a boy The chaplain of Arnwood had taken a fancy to him, and taughthim to read--writing he had not acquired. As soon as be grew up, heserved, as we have said, in the troop commanded by Colonel Beverley'sfather; and, after his death, Colonel Beverley had procured him thesituation of forest ranger, which had been held by his father, who wasthen alive, but too aged to do duty. Jacob Armitage married a good anddevout young woman, with whom he lived several years, when she died, without bringing him any family; after which, his father being alsodead, Jacob Armitage had lived alone until the period at which we havecommenced this history. 

CHAPTER IV. 

The old forester lay awake the whole of this night, reflecting how heshould act relative to the children; he felt the great responsibilitythat he had incurred, and was alarmed when he considered what might bethe consequences if his days were shortened. What would become ofthem--living in so sequestered a spot that few knew even of itsexistence--totally shut out from the world, and left to their ownresources? He had no fear, if his life was spared, that they would dowell; but if he should be called away before they had grown up andwere able to help themselves, they might perish. Edward was notfourteen years old; it was true that he was an active, brave boy, andthoughtful for his years; but he had not yet strength or skillsufficient for what would be required. Humphrey, the second, alsopromised well; but still they were all children. "I must bring them upto be useful--to depend upon themselves; there is not a moment to belost, and not a moment shall be lost; I will do my best, and trust toGod; I ask but two or three years, and by that time I trust that theywill be able to do without me. They must commence to-morrow the lifeof foresters' children. "

Acting upon this resolution, Jacob, as soon as the children weredressed, and in the sitting-room, opened his Bible, which he had puton the table, and said:

"My dear children, you know that you must remain in this cottage, thatthe wicked troopers may not find you out; they killed your father, andif I had not taken you away, they would have burned you in your beds. You must, therefore, live here as my children, and you must callyourselves by the name of Armitage, and not that of Beverley; and youmust dress like children of the forest, as you do now, and you must doas children of the forest do--that is, you must do every thing foryourselves, for you can have no servants to wait upon you. We must allwork--but you will like to work if you all work together, for then thework will be nothing but play. Now, Edward is the oldest, and he mustgo out with me in the forest, and I must teach him to kill deer andother game for our support; and when he knows how, then Humphrey shallcome out and learn how to shoot. "

"Yes, " said Humphrey, "I'll soon learn. "

"But not yet, Humphrey, for you must do some work in the mean time;you must look after the pony and the pigs, and you must learn to digin the garden with Edward and me when we do not go out to hunt; andsometimes I shall go by myself, and leave Edward to work with you whenthere is work to be done. Alice, dear, you must, with Humphrey, lightthe fire and clean the house in the morning. Humphrey will go to thespring for water, and do all the hard work; and you must learn towash, my dear Alice--I will show you how; and you must learn to getdinner ready with Humphrey, who will assist you; and to make the beds. And little Edith shall take care of the fowls, and feed them everymorning, and look for the eggs--will you, Edith?"

"Yes, " replied Edith, "and feed all the little chickens when they arehatched, as I did at Arnwood. "

"Yes, dear, and you'll be very useful. Now you know that you can notdo all this at once. You will have to try and try again; but very soonyou will, and then it will be all play. I must teach you all, andevery day you will do it better, till you want no teaching at all. Andnow, my dear children, as there is no chaplain here, we must read theBible every morning. Edward can read, I know; can you, Humphrey?"

"Yes, all except the big words. "

"Well, you will learn them by-and-by. And Edward and I will teachAlice and Edith to read in the evenings, when we have nothing to do. It will be an amusement. Now tell me, do you all like what I have toldyou?"

"Yes, " they all replied; and then Jacob Armitage read a chapter in theBible, after which they all knelt down and said the Lord's prayer. Asthis was done every morning and every evening, I need not repeat itagain. Jacob then showed them again how to clean the house, andHumphrey and Alice soon finished their work under his directions; andthen they all sat down to breakfast, which was a very plain one, beinggenerally cold meat, and cakes baked on the embers, at which Alice wassoon very expert; and little Edith was very useful in watching themfor her, while she busied herself about her other work. But thevenison was nearly all gone; and after breakfast Jacob and Edward, with the dog Smoker, went out into the woods. Edward had no gun, as heonly went out to be taught how to approach the game, which requiredgreat caution; indeed Jacob had no second gun to give him, if he hadwished so to do. 

"Now, Edward, we are going after a fine stag, if we can find him, which I doubt not; but the difficulty is, to get within shot of him. Recollect that you must always be hid, for his sight is very quick;never be heard, for his ear is sharp; and never come down to him withthe wind, for his scent is very fine. Then you must hunt according tothe hour of the day. At this time he is feeding; two hours hence hewill be lying down in the high fern. The dog is no use unless the stagis badly wounded, when the dog will take him. Smoker knows his dutywell, and will hide himself as close as we do. We are now going intothe thick wood ahead of us, as there are many little spots of clearedground in it where we may find the deer; but we must keep more to theleft, for the wind is to the eastward, and we must walk up against it. And now that we are coming into the wood, recollect, not a word mustbe said, and you must walk as quietly as possible, keeping behind me. Smoker, to heel!" They proceeded through the wood for more than amile, when Jacob made a sign to Edward, and dropped down into thefern, crawling along to an open spot, where, at some distance, were astag and three deer grazing. The deer grazed quietly, but the stag wasever and anon raising up his head and snuffing the air as he lookedround, evidently acting as a sentinel for the females. 

The stag was perhaps a long quarter of a mile from where they hadcrouched down in the fern. Jacob remained immovable till the animalbegan to feed again, and then he advanced, crawling through the fern, followed by Edward and the dog, who dragged himself on his stomachafter Edward. This tedious approach was continued for some time, andthey had neared the stag to within half the original distance, whenthe animal again lifted up his head and appeared uneasy. Jacob stoppedand remained without motion. After a time the stag walked away, followed by the does, to the opposite side of the clear spot on whichthey had been feeding, and, to Edward's annoyance, the animal was halfa mile from them. Jacob turned round and crawled into the wood, andwhen he knew that they were concealed, he rose on his feet and said, "You see, Edward, that it requires patience to stalk a deer. What aprincely fellow! but he has probably been alarmed this morning, and isvery uneasy. Now we must go through the woods till we come to the leeof him on the other side of the dell. You see he has led the doesclose to the thicket, and we shall have a better chance when we getthere, if we are only quiet and cautious. "

"What startled him, do you think?" said Edward. 

"I think, when you were crawling through the fern after me, you brokea piece of rotten stick that was under you. Did you not?"

"Yes, but that made but little noise. "

"Quite enough to startle a red deer, Edward, as you will find outbefore you have been long a forester. These checks will happen, andhave happened to me a hundred times, and then all the work is to bedone over again. Now then to make the circuit--we had better not say aword. If we get safe now to the other side, we are sure of him. "

They proceeded at a quick walk through the forest, and in half an hourhad gained the side where the deer were feeding. When about threehundred yards from the game, Jacob again sunk down on his hands andknees, crawling from bush to bush, stopping whenever the stag raisedhis head, and advancing again when it resumed feeding; at last theycame to the fern at the side of the wood, and crawled through it asbefore, but still more cautiously as they approached the stag. In thismanner they arrived at last to within eighty yards of the animal, andthen Jacob advanced his gun ready to put it to his shoulder, and, ashe cocked the lock, raised himself to fire. The click occasioned bythe cocking of the lock roused up the stag instantly, and he turnedhis head in the direction from whence the noise proceeded; as he didso Jacob fired, aiming behind the animal's shoulder: the stag made abound, came down again, dropped on his knees, attempted to run, andfell dead, while the does fled away with the rapidity of the wind. 

Edward started up on his legs with a shout of exultation. Jacobcommenced reloading his gun, and stopped Edward as he was about to runup to where the animal lay. 

"Edward, you must learn your craft, " said Jacob; "never do that again;never shout in that way--on the contrary, you should have remainedstill in the fern. "

"Why so?--the stag is dead. "

"Yes, my dear boy, that stag is dead; but how do you know but whatthere may be another lying down in the fern close to us, or at somedistance from us, which you have alarmed by your shout? Suppose thatwe both had guns, and that the report of mine had started another staglying in the fern within shot, you would have been able to shoot it;or if a stag was lying at a distance, the report of the gun might havestarted him so as to induce him to move his head without rising. Ishould have seen his antlers move and have marked his lair, and weshould then have gone after him and stalked him too. "

"I see, " replied Edward, "I was wrong; but I shall know better anothertime. "

"That's why I tell you, my boy, " replied Jacob. "Now let us go to ourquarry. Ay, Edward, this is a noble beast. I thought that he was ahart royal, and so he is. "

"What is a hart royal, Jacob?"

"Why, a stag is called a brocket until he is three years old, at fouryears he is a staggart; at five years a warrantable stag; and afterfive years he becomes a hart royal. "

"And how do you know his age?"

"By his antlers: you see that this stag has nine antlers; now, abrocket has but two antlers, a staggart three, and a warrantable stagbut four; at six years old, the antlers increase in number until theysometimes have twenty or thirty. This is a fine beast, and the venisonis now getting very good. Now you must see me do the work of mycraft. "

Jacob then cut the throat of the animal, and afterward cut off itshead and took out its bowels. 

"Are you tired, Edward?" said Jacob, as he wiped his hunting-knife onthe coat of the stag. 

"No, not the least. "

"Well, then, we are now, I should think, about four or five miles fromthe cottage. Could you find your way home? but that is of noconsequence--Smoker will lead you home by the shortest path. I willstay here, and you can saddle White Billy and come back with him, forhe must carry the venison back. It's more than we can manage--indeed, as much as we can manage with White Billy to help us. There's morethan twenty stone of venison lying there, I can tell you. "

Edward immediately assented, and Jacob, desiring Smoker to go home, set about flaying and cutting up the animal for its more convenienttransportation. In an hour and a half, Edward, attended by Smoker, returned with the pony, on whose back the chief portion of the venisonwas packed. Jacob took a large piece on his own shoulders, and Edwardcarried another, and Smoker, after regaling himself with a portion ofthe inside of the animal, came after them. During the walk home, Jacobinitiated Edward into the terms of venery and many other pointsconnected with deer-stalking, with which we shall not trouble ourreaders. As soon as they arrived at the cottage, the venison was hungup, the pony put in the stable, and then they sat down to dinner withan excellent appetite after their long morning's walk. Alice andHumphrey had cooked the dinner themselves, and it was in the pot, smoking hot, when they returned; and Jacob declared he never ate abetter mess in his life. Alice was not a little proud of this, and ofthe praises she received from Edward and the old forester. The nextday, Jacob stated his intention of going to Lymington to dispose of alarge portion of the venison, and bring back a sack of oatmeal fortheir cakes. Edward asked to accompany him, but Jacob replied, "Edward, you must not think of showing yourself at Lymington, or anywhere else, for a long while, until you are grown out of memory. Itwould be folly, and you would risk your sisters' and brother's lives, perhaps, as well as your own. Never mention it again: the time willcome when it will be necessary, perhaps; if so, it can not be helped. At present you would be known immediately. No, Edward, I tell you whatI mean to do: I have a little money left, and I intend to buy you agun, that you may learn to stalk deer yourself without me; for, recollect, if any accident should happen to me, who is there but youto provide for your brother and sisters? At Lymington I am known tomany; but out of all who know me, there is not one who knows where mycottage is; they know that I live in the New Forest, and that I supplythem venison, and purchase other articles in return. That is all thatthey know: and I may therefore go without fear. I shall sell thevenison to-morrow, and bring you back a good gun; and Humphrey shallhave the carpenters' tools which he wishes for, for I think, by whathe does with his knife, that he has a turn that way, and it may beuseful. I must also get some other tools for Humphrey and you, as weshall then be able to work all together; and some threads and needlesfor Alice, for she can sew a little, and practice will make her moreperfect. "

Jacob went off to Lymington as he had proposed, and returned late atnight with White Billy well loaded; he had a sack of oatmeal, somespades and hoes, a saw and chisels, and other tools; two scythes andtwo three-pronged forks; and when Edward came to meet him, he put intohis hand a gun with a very long barrel. 

"I believe, Edward, that you will find that a good one, for I knowwhere it came from. It belonged to one of the rangers, who wasreckoned the best shot in the Forest. I know the gun, for I have seenit on his arm, and have taken it in my hand to examine it more thanonce. He was killed at Naseby, with your father, poor fellow! and hiswidow sold the gun to meet her wants. "

"Well, " replied Edward, "I thank you much, Jacob, and I will try if Ican not kill as much venison as will pay you back the purchase-money--I will, I assure you. "

"I shall be glad if you do, Edward; not because I want the money back, but because then I shall be more easy in my mind about you all, if anything happens to me. As soon as you are perfect in your woodcraft, Ishall take Humphrey in hand, for there is nothing like having twostrings to your bow. To-morrow we will not go out: we have meat enoughfor three weeks or more; and now the frost has set in, it will keepwell. You shall practice at a mark with your gun, that you may beaccustomed to it; for all guns, even the best, require a littlehumoring. "

Edward, who had often fired a gun before, proved the next morning thathe had a very good eye; and, after two or three hours' practice, hitthe mark at a hundred yards almost every time. 

"I wish you would let me go out by myself, " said Edward, overjoyed athis success. 

"You would bring home nothing, boy, " replied Jacob. "No, no, you havea great deal to learn yet; but I tell you what you shall do: any timethat we are not in great want of venison, you shall have the firstfire. "

"Well, that will do, " replied Edward. 

The winter now set in with great severity, and they remained almostaltogether within doors. Jacob and the boys went out to get firewood, and dragged it home through the snow. 

"I wish, Jacob, " said Humphrey, "that I was able to build a cart, forit would be very useful, and White Billy would then have something todo; but I can't make the wheels, and there is no harness. "

"That's not a bad idea of yours, Humphrey, " replied Jacob; "we willthink about it. If you can't build a cart, perhaps I can buy one. Itwould be useful if it were only to take the dung out of the yard onthe potato-ground, for I have hitherto carried it out in baskets, andit's hard work. "

"Yes, and we might saw the wood into billets, and carry it home in thecart, instead of dragging it in this way; my shoulder is quite sorewith the rope, it cuts me so. "

"Well, when the weather breaks up, I will see what I can do, Humphrey;but just now the roads are so blocked up, that I do not think we couldget a cart from Lymington to the cottage, although we can a horse, perhaps. "

But if they remained in-doors during the inclement weather, they werenot idle. Jacob took this opportunity to instruct the children inevery thing. Alice learned how to wash and how to cook. It is true, that sometimes she scalded herself a little, sometimes burned herfingers; and other accidents did occur, from the articles employedbeing too heavy for them to lift by themselves; but practice anddexterity compensated for want of strength, and fewer accidentshappened every day. Humphrey had his carpenters' tools; and althoughat first he had many failures, and wasted nails and wood, by degreeshe learned to use his tools with more dexterity, and made severallittle useful articles. Little Edith could now do something, for shemade and baked all the oatmeal cakes, which saved Alice a good deal oftime and trouble in watching them. It was astonishing how much thechildren could do, now that there was no one to do it for them; andthey had daily instruction from Jacob. In the evening Alice sat downwith her needle and thread to mend the clothes; at first they were notvery well done, but she improved every day. Edith and Humphrey learnedto read while Alice worked, and then Alice learned; and thus passedthe winter away so rapidly, that, although they had been five monthsat the cottage, it did not appear as if they had been there as manyweeks. All were happy and contented, with the exception, perhaps, ofEdward, who had fits of gloominess, and occasionally showed signs ofimpatience as to what was passing in the world, of which he remainedin ignorance. 

That Edward Beverley had fits of gloominess and impatience is notsurprising. Edward had been brought up as the heir of Arnwood; and aboy at a very early age imbibes notions of his position, if itpromises to be a high one. He was not two miles from that propertywhich by right was his own. His own mansion had been reduced to ashes--he himself was hidden in the forest; and he could but not feel hisposition. He sighed for the time when the king's cause should be againtriumphant, and his arrival at that age when he could in personsupport and uphold the cause. He longed to be in command, as hisfather had been--to lead his men on to victory--to recover hisproperty, and to revenge himself on those who had acted so cruellytoward him. This was human nature; and much as Jacob Armitage wouldexpostulate with him, and try to divert his feelings into otherchannels--long as he would preach to him about forgiveness ofinjuries, and patience until better times should come, Edward couldnot help brooding over these thoughts, and if ever there was a breastanimated with intense hatred against the Puritans, it was that ofEdward Beverley. Although this was to be lamented, it could not createsurprise or wonder in the old forester. All he could do was, as muchas possible to reason with him, to soothe his irritated feelings, andby constant employment try to make him forget for a time the feelingsof ill-will which he had conceived. 

One thing was, however, sufficiently plain to Edward, which was, thatwhatever might be his wrongs, he had not the power at present toredress them; and this feeling, perhaps, more than any other, held himin some sort of check; and as the time when he might have anopportunity appeared far distant, even to his own sanguineimagination, so by degrees did he contrive to dismiss from histhoughts what it was no use to think about at present. 

CHAPTER V. 

As we have before said, time passed rapidly; with the exception of oneor two excursions after venison, they remained in the cottage, andJacob never went to Lymington. The frost had broken up, the snow hadlong disappeared, and the trees began to bud. The sun became powerful, and in the month of May the forest began again to look green. 

"And now, Edward, " said Jacob Armitage, one day at breakfast, "we willtry for venison again to sell at Lymington, for I must purchaseHumphrey's cart and harness; so let us get our guns, and go out thisfine morning. The stags are mostly by themselves at this season, forthe does are with their young calves. We must find the slot of a deer, and track him to his lair, and you shall have the first shot if youlike; but, that, however, depends more upon the deer than upon me. "

They had walked four or five miles when they came upon the slot ortrack of a deer, but Jacob's practiced eye pointed out to Edward thatit was the slot of a young one, and not worth following. He explainedto Edward the difference in the hoof-marks and other signs by whichthis knowledge was gained, and they proceeded onward until they foundanother slot, which Jacob declared to be that of a warrantable stag--that is, one old enough to kill and to be good venison. 

"We must now track him to his lair, Edward. "

This took them about a mile farther, when they arrived at a smallthicket of thorns about an acre in extent. 

"Here he is, you see, Edward; let me now see if he is harbored. "

They walked round the thicket, and could not find any slot or track bywhich the stag had left the covert, and Jacob pronounced that theanimal must be hid in it. 

"Now, Edward, do you stay here while I go back to the lee side of thecovert: I will enter it with Smoker, and the stag will, in allprobability, when he is roused, come out to breast the wind. You willthen have a good shot at him; recollect to fire so as to hit himbehind the shoulder: if he is moving quick, fire a little before theshoulders; if slow, take aim accurately; but recollect, if I come uponhim in the covert, I shall kill him if I can, for we want the venison, and then we will go after another to give you a chance. "

Jacob then left Edward, and went down to the lee side of the covert, where he entered it with Smoker. Edward was stationed behind a thorn-bush, which grew a few yards clear of the covert, and he soon heardthe creaking of the branches. 

A short time elapsed, and a fine stag came out at a trot; he turnedhis head, and was just bounding away when Edward fired, and the animalfell. Remembering the advice of Jacob, Edward remained where he was, in silence reloading his piece, and was soon afterward joined by Jacoband the dog. 

"Well done, Edward!" said the forester, in a low voice; and, coveringhis forehead to keep off the glare of the sun, he looked earnestly ata high brake between some thorn-trees, about a half a mile to thewindward. "I think I see something there--look Edward, your eyes areyounger than mine. Is that the branch of a tree in the fern, or is itnot?"

"I see what you mean, " replied Edward. "It is not, it moves. "

"I thought so, but my eyes are not so good as they once were. It'sanother stag, depend upon it; but how are we to get near him? We nevercan get across this patch of clear grass without being seen. "

"No, we can not get at him from this spot, " replied Edward; "but if wewere to fall back to leeward, and gain the forest again, I think thatthere are thorns sufficient from the forest to where he lies, to creepfrom behind one to the other, so as to get a shot at him, don't you?"

"It will require care and patience to manage that; but I think itmight be done. I will try it; it is my turn now, you know. You hadbetter stay here with the dog, for only one can hide from thorn tothorn. "

Jacob, ordering Smoker to remain, then set off. He had to make acircuit of three miles to get to the spot where the thorns extendedfrom the forest, and Edward saw no more of him, although he strainedhis eyes, until the stag sprung out, and the gun was discharged. Edward perceived that the stag was not killed, but severely wounded, running toward the covert near which he was hid. "Down, Smoker, " saidhe, as he cocked his gun. The stag came within shot, and was comingnearer, when, seeing Edward, it turned. Edward fired, and then cheeredon the dog, who sprung after the wounded animal, giving tongue, as hefollowed him. Edward, perceiving Jacob hastening toward him, waitedfor him. 

"He's hard hit, Edward, " cried Jacob, "and Smoker will have him; butwe must follow as fast as we can. "

They both caught up their guns and ran as fast as they could, when, asthey entered the wood, they heard the dog at bay. 

"We shan't have far to go, Edward; the animal is done up: Smoker hashim at bay. "

They hastened on another quarter of a mile, when they found that thestag had fallen on his knees, and had been seized by the throat bySmoker. 

"Mind, Edward, now, how I go up to him, for the wound from the horn ofthe deer is very dangerous. "

Jacob advanced from behind the stag, and cut his throat with hishunting-knife. "He is a fine beast, and we have done well to-day, butwe shall have two journeys to make to get all this venison home. Icould not get a fair shot at him--and see, I have hit him here in theflank. "

"And here is my ball in his throat, " said Edward. 

"So it is. Then it was a good shot that you made, and you are masterof the hunt this day, Edward. Now, I'll remain, and you go home forWhite Billy. Humphrey is right about the cart. If we had one, we couldhave carried all home at once; but I must go now and cut the throat ofthe other stag which you killed so cleverly. You will be a good hunterone of these days, Edward. A little more knowledge, and a little morepractice, and I will leave it all to you, and hang up my gun over thechimney. "

It was late in the evening before they had made their two trips andtaken all the venison home, and very tired were they before it wassafely housed. Edward was delighted with his success, but not more sothan was old Jacob. The next morning, Jacob set off for Lymington, with the pony loaded with venison, which he sold, as well as two moreloads which he promised to bring the next day, and the day after. Hethen looked out for a cart, and was fortunate in finding a small one, just fitted to the size of the pony, who was not tall but very strong, as all the New Forest ponies are. He also procured harness, and thenput Billy in the cart to draw him home; but Billy did not admire beingput in a cart, and for some time was very restive, and backed andreared, and went every way but the right; but by dint of coaxing andleading, he at last submitted, and went straight on; but then thenoise of the cart behind him frightened him, and he ran away. At last, having tired himself out, he thought that he might as well go quietlyin harness, as he could not get out of it; and he did so, and arrivedsafe at the cottage. Humphrey was delighted at the sight of the cart, and said that now they should get on well. The next day, Jacobcontrived to put all the remainder of the venison in the cart, andWhite Billy made no more difficulty; he dragged it all to Lymington, and returned with the cart as quietly and cleverly as if he had beenin harness all his life. 

"Well, Edward, the venison paid for the cart at all events, " saidJacob, "and now, I will tell you all the news I collected while I wasat Lymington. Captain Burly, who attempted to incite the people torescue the king, has been hung, drawn, and quartered, as a traitor. "

"They are traitors who condemned him, " replied Edward, in wrath. 

"Yes, so they are; but there is better news, which is, that the Dukeof York has escaped to Holland. "

"Yes, that is good news; and the king?"

"He is still a prisoner in Carisbrook Castle. There are many rumorsand talks, but no one knows what is true and what is false; but dependupon it, this can not last long, and the king will have his rightsyet. "

Edward remained very grave for some time. 

"I trust in Heaven we all shall have our rights yet, Jacob, " said heat last. "I wish I was a man!"

Here the conversation ended, and they went to bed. 

This was now a busy time at the cottage. The manure had to be got outof the stable and pigsties, and carried out to the potato-ground andgarden; the crops had to be put in, and the cart was now foundvaluable. After the manure had been carried out and spread, Edward andHumphrey helped Jacob to dig the ground, and then to put in the seed. The cabbage-plants of last year were then put out, and the turnips andcarrots sown. Before the month was over, the garden and potato-fieldwere cropped, and Humphrey took upon himself to weed and keep itclean. Little Edith had also employment now, for the hens began to layeggs, and as soon as she heard them cackling, she ran for the eggs andbrought them in; and before the month was over, Jacob had set fourhens upon eggs. Billy, the pony, was now turned out to graze in theforest; he came home every night of his own accord. 

"I'll tell you what we want, " said Humphrey, who took the commandaltogether over the farm: "we want a cow. "

"Oh yes, a cow, " cried Alice, "I have plenty of time to milk her. "

"Whose cows are those which I see in the forest sometimes?" saidHumphrey to Jacob. 

"If they belong to any body, they belong to the king, " replied Jacob;"but they are cattle which have strayed and found their way to theforest, and have remained here ever since. They are rather wild andsavage, and you must be careful how you go too near them, as the bullswill run at you. They increase very fast: there were but six a fewyears ago, and now there are at least fifty in the herd. "

"Well, I'll try and get one, if I can, " said Humphrey. 

"You will be puzzled to do that, boy, " replied Jacob, "and as I saidbefore, beware of the bulls. "

"I don't want a bull, " replied Humphrey, "but a cow would give usmilk, and then we should have more manure for the garden. My gardenwill then grow more potatoes. "

"Well, Humphrey, if you can catch a cow, no one will interfere; but Ithink you will not find it very easy, and you may find it verydangerous. "

"I'll look out for one, " replied Humphrey, "any how. Alice, if we onlyhad a cow, wouldn't that be jolly?"

The crops were now all up, and as the days began to be long, the workbecame comparatively light and easy. Humphrey was busy making a littlewheelbarrow for Edith, that she might barrow away the weeds as he hoedthem up; and at last this great performance was completed, much to theadmiration of all, and much to his own satisfaction. Indeed, when itis recollected that Humphrey had only the hand-saw and ax, and that hehad to cut down the tree; and then to saw it into plank, it must beacknowledged that it required great patience and perseverance even tomake a wheelbarrow; but Humphrey was not only persevering, but wasfull of invention. He had built up a hen-house with fir-poles, andmade the nests for the hens to lay and hatch in, and they now hadbetween forty and fifty chickens running about. He had also dividedthe pigsty, so that the sow might be kept apart from the other pigs;and they expected very soon to have a litter of young pigs. He hadtransplanted the wild strawberries from the forest, and had, bymanure, made them large and good; and he had also a fine crop ofonions in the garden, from seed which Jacob had bought at Lymington;now Humphrey was very busy cutting down some poles in the forest tomake a cow-house, for he declared that he would have a cow somehow oranother. June arrived, and it was time to mow down grass to make intohay for the winter, and Jacob had two scythes. He showed the boys howto use them, and they soon became expert; and as there was plenty oflong grass at this time of the year, and they could mow when theypleased, they soon bad White Billy in full employment carrying the hayhome. The little girls helped to make it, for Humphrey had made themtwo rakes. Jacob thought that there was hay enough made, but Humphreysaid that there was enough for the pony, but not enough for the cow. 

"But where is the cow to come from, Humphrey?"

"Where the venison comes from, " replied he: "out of the forest. "

So Humphrey continued to mow and make hay, while Edward and Jacob wentout for venison. After all the hay was made and stacked, Humphreyfound out a method of thatching with fern, which Jacob had neverthought of; and when that was done, they commenced cutting down fernfor fodder. Here again Humphrey would have twice as much as Jacob hadever cut before, because he wanted litter for the cow. At last itbecame quite a joke between him and Edward, who, when he brought homemore venison than would keep in the hot weather, told Humphrey thatthe remainder was for the cow. Still Humphrey would not give up thepoint, and every morning and evening he would be certain to be absentan hour or two, and it was found out he was watching the herd of wildcattle who were feeding: sometimes they were very near, at others along way off. He used to get up into the trees, and examine them asthey passed under him without perceiving him. One night Humphreyreturned very late, and the next morning he was off before daylight. Breakfast was over, and Humphrey did not make his appearance, and theycould not tell what was the matter. Jacob felt uneasy, but Edwardlaughed, and said:

"Oh, depend upon it, he'll come back and bring the cow with him. "

Hardly had Edward said these words when in came Humphrey, red withperspiration. 

"Now then, Jacob and Edward, come with me; we must put Billy in thecart, and take Smoker and a rope with us. Take your guns too, for fearof accident. "

"Why, what's the matter?"

"I'll tell you as we go along; but I must put Billy in the cart, forthere is no time to be lost. "

Humphrey disappeared, and Jacob said to Edward--

"What can it be?"

"It can be nothing but the cow he is so mad about, " replied Edward. "However, when he comes with the pony, we shall know; let us take ourguns and the dog Smoker as he wishes. "

Humphrey now drove up the pony and cart, and they set off. 

"Well, I suppose you'll tell us now what we are going for?" saidEdward. 

"Yes, I will. You know I've been watching the cattle for a long while, because I wanted a cow. I have been in a tree when they have passedunder me several times, and I observed that one or two of the heiferswere very near calving. Yesterday evening I thought one could not helpcalving very soon indeed, and as I was watching, I saw that she wasuneasy, and that she at last left the herd and went into a littlecopse of wood. I remained three hours to see if she came out again, and she did, not. It was dark when I came home, as you know. Thismorning I went before daylight and found the herd. She is veryremarkable, being black and white spotted; and, after closeexamination, I found that she was not with the herd; so I am sure thatshe went into the copse to calve, and that she has calved beforethis. "

"Well, that may be, " replied Jacob; "but now I do not understand whatwe are to do. "

"Nor I, " replied Edward. 

"Well, then, I'll tell you what I hope to do. I have got the pony andcart to take the calf home with us, if we can get it--which I think wecan. I have got Smoker to worry the heifer and keep her employed, while we put the calf in the cart; a rope that we may tie the cow ifwe can; and you with your guns must keep off the herd if they come toher assistance. Now do you understand my plan?"

"Yes, and I think it very likely to succeed, Humphrey, " replied Jacob, "and I give you credit for the scheme. We will help you all we can. Where is the copse?"

"Not half a mile farther, " replied Humphrey. "We shall soon be there. "

On their arrival, they found that the herd were feeding at aconsiderable distance from the copse, which was, perhaps, as well. 

"Now, " said Jacob, "I and Edward will enter into the copse withSmoker, and you follow us, Humphrey. I will make Smoker seize theheifer, if necessary; at all events he will keep her at bay--that is, if she is here. First, let us walk round the copse and find her_slot_, as we call the track of a deer. See, here is her footing. Now let us go in. "

They advanced cautiously into the thicket, following the track of theheifer, and at last came upon her. Apparently she had not calved morethan an hour, and was licking the calf, which was not yet on its legs. As soon as the animal perceived Jacob and Edward, she shook her head, and was about to run at them; but Jacob told Smoker to seize her, andthe dog flew at her immediately. The attack of the dog drove back theheifer quite into the thicket, and as the dog bounded round her, springing this way and that way to escape her horns, the heifer wassoon separated from the calf. 

"Now then, Edward and Humphrey, " said Jacob, advancing between theheifer and the calf, "lift up the calf between you and put it in thecart. Leave Smoker and me to manage the mother. "

The boys put their arms under the stomach of the calf, and carried itaway. The heifer was at first too busy defending herself against thedog to perceive that the calf was gone; when she did, Jacob calledSmoker to him, so as to bring him between the heifer and where theboys were going out of the thicket. At last the heifer gave a loudbellow, and rushed out of the thicket in pursuit of her calf, checkedby Smoker, who held on to her ear, and sometimes stopped her fromadvancing. 

"Hold her, Smoker, " said Jacob, who now went back to help the boys. "Hold her, boy. Is the calf in the cart?"

"Yes, and tied fast, " replied Edward, "and we are in the cart, too. "

"That's right, " replied Jacob. "Now I'll get in too, and let us driveoff. She'll follow us, depend upon it. Here, Smoker! Smoker! let heralone. "

Smoker, at this command, came bounding out of the copse, followed bythe heifer, lowing most anxiously. Her lowing was responded to by thecalf in the cart, and she ran wildly up to it. 

"Drive off, Humphrey, " said Jacob; "I think I heard the lowing of theheifer answered by some of the herd, and the sooner we are off thebetter. "

Humphrey, who had the reins, drove off; the heifer followed, at onetime running at the dog, at another putting her head almost into thehind part of the cart; but the lowing of the heifer was now answeredby deeper tones, and Jacob said, "Edward, get your gun ready, for I think the herd is following. Do notfire, however, until I tell you. We must be governed by circumstances. It won't do to lose the pony, or to run any serious risk, for the sakeof the heifer and calf. Drive fast, Humphrey. "

A few minutes afterward they perceived, at about a quarter of a milebehind them, not the whole herd, but a single bull, who was coming upat a fast trot, with his tail in the air, and tossing his head, lowingdeeply in answer to the heifer. 

"There's only one, after all, " said Jacob; "I suppose the heifer ishis favorite. Well, we can manage him. Smoker, come in. Come in, sir, directly, " cried Jacob, perceiving that the dog was about to attackthe bull. 

Smoker obeyed, and the bull advanced till he was within a hundredyards. 

"Now, Edward, do you fire first--aim for his shoulder. Humphrey, pullup. "

Humphrey stopped the pony and the bull continued to advance, butseemed puzzled who to attack, unless it was the dog. As soon as thebull was within sixty yards, Edward fired, and the animal fell down onits knees, tearing the ground with its horns. 

"That will do, " said Jacob; "drive on again, Humphrey; we will have alook at that fellow by-and-by. At present we had better get home, asothers may come. He's up again, but he is at a stand-still. I have anidea that he is hit hard. "

The cart drove on, followed by the heifer, but no more of the wildherd made their appearance, and they very soon gained the cottage. 

"Now, then, what shall we do?" said Jacob. "Come, Humphrey, you havehad all the ordering of this, and have done it well. "

"Well, Jacob, we must now drive the cart into the yard, and shut thegate upon the cow, till I am ready. "

"That's easy done, by setting Smoker at her, " replied Jacob; "but, mercy on us, there's Alice and Edith running out!--the heifer may killthem. Go back, Alice, run quite into the cottage, and shut the doortill we come. "

Alice and Edith hearing this, and Edward also crying out to them, madea hasty retreat to the cottage. Humphrey then backed the cart againstthe paling of the yard, so as to enable Edward to get on the otherside of it, ready to open the gate. Smoker was set at the heifer, and, as before, soon engaged her attention; so that the gate was opened andthe cart drove in, and the gate closed again, before the heifer couldfollow. 

"Well, Humphrey, what next?"

"Why, now lift the calf out, and put it into the cow-house. I will gointo the cow-house with a rope and a slip-knot at the end of it, getupon the beam above, and drop it over her horns as she's busy with thecalf, which she will be as soon as you let her in. I shall pass theend of the rope outside for you to haul up when I am ready, and thenwe shall have her fast, till we can secure her properly. When I callout Ready, do you open the gate and let her in. You can do that andjump into the cart afterward, for fear she may run at you; but I don'tthink that she will, for it's the calf she wants, and not either ofyou. "

As soon as Humphrey was ready with the rope, he gave the word, and thegate was opened; the cow ran in immediately, and, hearing her calfbleat, went into the cow-house, the door of which was shut upon her. Aminute afterward Humphrey cried out to them to haul upon the rope, which they did. 

"That will do, " said Humphrey from the inside; "now make the ropefast, and then you may come in. "

They went in and found the heifer drawn close to the side of the cow-house by the rope which was round her horns, and unable to move herhead. 

"Well, Humphrey, that's very clever; but now what is to be done?"

"First, I'll saw off the tips of her horns, and then if she does runat us, she won't hurt us much. Wait till I go for the saw. "

As soon as the ends of her horns were sawed off, Humphrey took anotherpiece of rope, which he fastened securely round her horns, and thenmade the other end fast to the side of the building, so that theanimal could move about a little and eat out of the crib. 

"There, " said Humphrey, "now time and patience must do the rest. Wemust coax her and handle her, and we soon shall tame her. At presentlet us leave her with the calf. She has a yard of rope, and that isenough for her to lick her calf, which is all that she requires atpresent. To-morrow we will cut some grass for her. "

They then went out, shutting the cow-house door. 

"Well, Humphrey, you've beat us after all, and have the laugh on yourside now, " said Jacob. "'Where there's a will, there's a way, ' that'scertain; and I assure you, that when you were making so much hay, andgathering so much litter, and building a cow-house, I had no more ideathat we should have a cow than that we should have an elephant; and Iwill say that you deserve great credit for your way of obtaining it. "

"That he certainly does, " replied Edward. "You have more genius than Ihave, brother. But dinner must be ready, if Alice has done her duty. What think you Jacob, shall we after dinner go and look after thatbull?"

"Yes, by all means. He will not be bad eating, and I can sell all Ican carry in the cart at Lymington. Besides, the skin is worth money. "

CHAPTER VI. 

Alice and Edith were very anxious to see the cow, and especially tosee the calf; but Humphrey told them that they must not go near tillhe went with them, and then they should see it. After dinner was over, Jacob and Edward took their guns, and Humphrey put Billy in the cartand followed them. They found the bull where they left him, standingquite still; he tossed, his head when they approached him, which theydid carefully, but he did not attempt to run at them. 

"It's my idea that he has nearly bled to death, " said Jacob; "butthere's nothing like making sure. Edward, put a bullet just threeinches behind his shoulder, and that will make all safe. "

Edward did so, and the animal fell dead. They went up to the carcass, which they estimated to weigh at least fifty stone. 

"It is a noble beast, " said Edward; "I wonder we never thought ofkilling one before?"

"They aren't game, Edward, " replied Jacob. 

"No, they are not now, Jacob, " said Humphrey; "as you and Edward claimall the game, I shall claim the cattle as my portion of the forest. Recollect, there are more, and I mean to have more of them yet. "

"Well, Humphrey, I give you up all my rights, if I have any, "

"And I, all mine, " added Edward. 

"Be it so. Some day you'll see what I shall do, " replied Humphrey. "Recollect, I am to sell the cattle for my own self-advantage until Ibuy a gun, and one or two things which I want. "

"I agree to that too, Humphrey, " replied Jacob; "and now to skin thebeast. "

The skinning and quartering took up the whole afternoon, and Billy washeavy laden when he drew his cart home. The next day Jacob went toLymington to sell the bull and the skin, and returned home wellsatisfied with the profit he had made. He had procured, as Humphreyrequested, some milk-pans, a small churn, and milk-pail out of theproceeds, and had still money left. Humphrey told them that he had notbeen to see the heifer yet, as he thought it better not. 

"She will be tame to-morrow morning, depend upon it, " said he. 

"But if you give her nothing to eat, will not the calf die?"

"Oh no, I should think not. I shall not starve her, but I will makeher thankful for her food before she gets it. I shall cut her somegrass to-morrow morning. "

We may as well here say, that the next morning Humphrey went in to theheifer. At first she tossed about, and was very unruly. He gave hersome grass, and patted her and coaxed her for a long while, till atlast she allowed him to touch her gently. Every day for a fortnight hebrought her food, and she became quieter every day, till at last if hewent up to her, she never pushed with her horns. The calf became quitetame, and as the heifer perceived that the calf was quiet, she becamemore quiet herself. After the fortnight, Humphrey would not allow theheifer to receive any thing except from the hand of Alice, that theanimal might know her well; and when the calf was a month old, Humphrey made the first attempt to milk her. This was resisted atfirst by kicking, but in the course of ten days she gave down hermilk. Humphrey then let her loose for a few days to run about theyard, still keeping the calf in the cow-house, and putting the heiferin to her at night, milking her before the calf was allowed to suck. After this he adventured upon the last experiment, which was to turnher out of the yard to graze in the forest. She went away to somedistance, and he was fearful that she would join the herd, but in theevening she came back again to her calf. After this he was satisfied, and turned her out every day, and they had no further trouble withher. He would not, however, wean the calf till the winter time, whenshe was shut up in the yard and fed on hay. He then weaned the calf, which was a cow calf, and they had no more trouble with the mother. Alice soon learned to milk her, and she became very tractable andgood-tempered. Such was the commencement of the dairy at the cottage. 

"Jacob, " said Humphrey, "when do you go to Lymington again?"

"Why, I do not know. The end of August, as it is now, and the month ofSeptember, is not good for venison; and, therefore, I do not see whatI shall have to go for. "

"Well, I wish when you do go, you would get something for Alice andsomething for me. "

"And what is it that Alice wants?"

"She wants a kitten. "

"Well, I think I may find that. And what do you want, Humphrey?"

"I want a dog. Smoker is yours altogether; I want a dog for myself, tobring up after my own fashion. "

"Well, I ought to look out for another dog: although Smoker is notold, yet one ought to have two dogs to one's gun in case of accident. "

"I think so too, " replied Edward; "see if you can get two puppies, onefor Humphrey and one for myself. "

"Well, I must not go to Lymington for them. I must cross the forest, to see some friends of mine whom I have not seen for a long while, andI may get some of the right sort of puppies there, just like Smoker. I'll do that at once, as I may have to wait for them, even if I dohave the promise. "

"May I go with you, Jacob?" said Edward. 

"Why, I would rather not; they may ask questions?"

"And so would I rather he would not, for he will shirk his work here. "

"Why, what is there to do, Humphrey?"

"Plenty to do, and hard work, Edward; the acorns are fit for beatingdown, and we want a great many bushels for the pigs. We have to fattenthree, and to feed the rest during the winter. I can not get on wellwith only Alice and Edith; so if you are not very lazy, you will staywith us and help us. "

"Humphrey, you think of nothing but your pigs and farmyard. "

"And you are too great a hunter to think of any thing but a stag; buta bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, in my opinion; and I'llmake more by my farmyard than you ever will by the forest. "

"Humphrey has nothing to do with the poultry and eggs, has he, Edward"they belong to Edith and me, and Jacob shall take them to Lymingtonand sell them for us, and get us some new clothes for Sunday, forthese begin to look rather worn--and no wonder. "

"No, dearest, the poultry are yours, and I will sell them for you assoon as you please, and buy what you wish with the money, " repliedJacob. "Let Humphrey make all the money he can with his pigs. "

"Yes; and the butter belongs to me, if I make it, " said Alice. 

"No no, " replied Humphrey; "that's not fair; I find cows, and getnothing for them. We must go halves Alice. "

"Well, I've no objection to that, " said Alice "because you find thecows and feed them. I made a pound of butter yesterday, just to trywhat I could do; but it's not firm, Jacob. How is that?"

"I have seen the women make butter, and know how, Alice; so next timeI will be with you. I suppose you did not wash your butter-milk wellout, nor put any salt in it?"

"I did not put any salt in it. "

"But you must, or the butter will not keep. "

It was arranged that Edward should stay at home to assist incollecting the acorns for the pigs, and that Jacob should cross theforest alone to see after the puppies, and he set off the nextmorning. He was away two days, and then returned; said that he had apromise of two puppies, and that he had chosen them; they were of thesame breed as Smoker, but they were only a fortnight old, and couldnot be taken from the mother yet awhile, so that he had arranged tocall again when they were three or four months old, and able to followhim across the forest. Jacob also said that he was very near beinghurt by a stag that had made at him--for at that season of the yearthe stags were very dangerous and fierce--but that he had fired, andstruck off one of the animal's horns, which made it turn. 

"You must be careful, Edward, how you go about the forest now. "

"I have no wish to go, " replied Edward; "as we can not hunt, it is nouse; but in November we shall begin again. "

"Yes, " replied Jacob, "that will be soon enough. To-morrow I will helpyou with the acorns, and the day afterward, if I am spared, I willtake Alice's poultry to Lymington for her. "

"Yes, and when you come back you will help me to churn for then Ishall have a good deal of cream. "

"And don't forget to buy the kitten, Jacob, " said Edith. 

"What's the good of a kitten?" said Humphrey, who was very busy makinga bird-cage for Edith, having just finished one for Alice; "she willonly steal your cream and eat up your birds. "

"No, she won't; for we'll shut the door fast where the milk and creamare, and we'll hang the cages so high that Miss Puss won't be able toget at them. "

"Well, then, a kitten will be useful, " said Edward, "for she willteach you to be careful. "

"My coat is a little the worse for wear, and so is yours, Edward. Wemust try if we can not, like Alice, find means to pay for another. "

"Humphrey, " said Jacob, "I'll buy all you want, and trust to you forpaying me again as soon as you can. "

"That's just what I want, " replied Humphrey. "Then you must buy me agun and a new suit of clothes first; when I've paid for them, I shallwant some more tools, and some nails and screws, and two or threeother things; but I will say nothing about them just now. Get me mygun, and I'll try what the forest will do for me--especially after Ihave my dog. "

"Well, we shall see; perhaps you'll like to come out with me sometimesand learn woodcraft, for Edward knows as much as I do now, and can goout by himself. "

"Of course I will, Jacob: I want to learn every thing. "

"Well, there's a little money left in the bag yet, and I will go toLymington to-morrow. Now I think it is time we were in bed; and if youare all as tired as I am, you will sleep soundly. "

Jacob put into the cart the next day about forty of the chickens whichAlice had reared; the others were kept to increase the number in thepoultry-yard. They had cost little or nothing bringing up; for whenquite young, they only had a little oatmeal cake, and afterward, withthe potatoes which were left, they found themselves, as fowls canalways do when they have a great range of ground to go over. 

Jacob came back at sunset, with all the articles. He brought a newsuit for Alice and Edith, with some needles and thread, and worsted, and gave her some money which was left from the sale of the chickens, after he had made the purchases. He also bought a new suit for Edwardand Humphrey, and a gun, which was much approved of by Humphrey, as ithad a larger bore and carried a heavier bullet than either Jacob's orEdward's; and there was a white kitten for Alice and Edith. There wasno news, only that the Levelers had opposed Cromwell, and he had putthem down with the other troops, and Jacob said that it appeared thatthey were all squabbling and fighting with each other. 

Time passed; the month of November came on without any thing todisturb the daily employments of the family in the forest: when oneevening, Jacob, who had returned from hunting with Edward (the firsttime they had been out since the season commenced) told Alice that shemust do all she could to give them a good dinner the next day, as itwas to be a feast. 

"Why so, Jacob?"

"If you can not guess, I won't tell you till the time comes, " repliedJacob. 

"Well then, Humphrey must help us, " replied Alice, "and we will dowhat we can. I will try, now that we have some meat, to make a granddinner. "

Alice made all the preparations, and had for dinner the next day apiece of baked venison, a venison stew, a pair of roast chickens, andan apple pie--which, for them, was a very grand dinner indeed. And itwas very well dressed: for Jacob had taught her to cook, and bydegrees she improved upon Jacob's instruction. Humphrey was quite asclever at it as she was; and little Edith was very useful, as sheplucked the fowls, and watched the things while they were cooking. 

"And now I'll tell you, " said Jacob, after saying grace, "why I askedyou for a feast this day. It is because exactly on this daytwelvemonth I brought you all to the cottage. Now you know. "

"I did not know it, certainly, but I dare say you are right, " repliedEdward. 

"And now, children, tell me, " said Jacob, "has not this year passedvery quickly and very happily--quite as quickly and quite as happilyas if you had been staying at Arnwood?"

"Yes, more so, " replied Humphrey; "for then very often I did not knowwhat to do to amuse myself, and since I have been here the days havealways been too short. "

"I agree with Humphrey, " said Edward. 

"And I am sure I do, " replied Alice; "I'm always busy and alwayshappy, and I'm never scolded about dirtying my clothes or tearingthem, as I used to be. "

"And what does little Edith say?"

"I like to help Alice, and I like to play with the kitten, " repliedEdith. 

"Well, my children" said Jacob, "depend upon it, you are most happywhen your days pass quickest, and that is only the case when you haveplenty to do. Here you are in peace and safety; and may it please Godthat you may continue so! We want very few things in this world--thatis, we really want very few things, although we wish and sigh formany. You have health and spirits, which are the greatest blessings inlife. Who would believe, to look at you all, that you were the samechildren that I brought away from Arnwood? You were then verydifferent from what you are now. You are strong and healthy, rosy andbrown, instead of being fair and delicate. Look at your sisters, Edward. Do you think that any of your former friends--do you thinkthat Martha, who had the care of them, would know them?"

Edward smiled, and said, "Certainly not; especially in their presentdresses. "

"Nor would, I think, Humphrey be known again. You, Edward, were alwaysa stout boy; and, except that you have grown very much, and are morebrown, there is no great difference. You would be known again, even inyour present forester's dress; but what I say is, that we ought to bethankful to the Almighty that you, instead of being burned in yourbeds, have found health, and happiness, and security, in a forester'shut; and I ought to be, and am, most thankful to Heaven, that it haspleased it to spare my life, and enable me to teach you all to thepresent, how to gain your own livelihoods after I am called away. Ihave been able so far to fulfill my promise to your noble father; andyou know not what a heavy load on my mind is every day lessened, as Isee each day that you are more and more able to provide foryourselves. God bless you, dear children, and may you live to see manyreturns, and happy returns, of the day;" and Jacob was so much movedas he said this, that a tear was seen rolling down his furrowed cheek. 

The second winter now came on. Jacob and Edward went out huntingusually about twice a-week; for the old forester complained ofstiffness and rheumatism, and not feeling so active as he used to be. Humphrey now accompanied Edward perhaps one day in the week, but notmore, and they seldom returned without having procured venison, forEdward knew his business well, and no longer needed the advice ofJacob. As the winter advanced, Jacob gave up going out altogether. Hewent to Lymington to sell the venison and procure what was necessaryfor the household, such as oatmeal and flour, which were the principalwants, but even these journeys fatigued him, and it was evident thatthe old man's constitution was breaking fast. Humphrey was alwaysbusy. One evening he was making something which puzzled them all. Theyasked him what it was for, but he would not tell them. 

"It's an experiment that I am trying, " said he as he was bending ahazel stick. "If it answers, you shall know: if it does not, I've onlyhad a little trouble for nothing. Jacob, I hope you will not forgetthe salt to-morrow when you go to Lymington, for my pigs are ready forkilling, and we must salt the greatest part of the pork. After thelegs and shoulders have lain long enough in salt, I mean to try if Ican not smoke them, and if I do, I'll then smoke some bacon. Won'tthat be jolly, Alice? Won't you like to have a great piece of baconhanging up there, and only to have to get on a stool to cut off whatyou want, when Edward and I come home hungry, and you've nothing togive us to eat?"

"I shall be very glad to have it, and I think so will you too, by theway you talk. "

"I shall, I assure you. Jacob, didn't you say the ash sticks were thebest to smoke bacon with?"

"Yes, boy: when you are ready, I'll tell you how to manage. My poormother used to smoke very well up this very chimney. "

"I think that will do, " said Humphrey, letting his hazel stick springup, after he had bent it down, "but to-morrow I shall find out. "

"But what is it for, Humphrey?" said Edith. 

"Go away, puss, and play with your kitten, " replied Humphrey, puttingaway his tools and his materials in a corner; "I've a great deal on myhands now, but I must kill my pigs before I think of any thing else. "

The next day Jacob took the venison into Lymington, and brought backthe salt and other articles required. The pigs wore then killed, andsalted down under Jacob's directions; his rheumatism did not allow himto assist, but Humphrey and Edward rubbed in the salt, and Alice tookthe pieces of pork away to the tub when they were finished. Humphreyhad been out the day before with the unknown article he had been solong about. The next morning he went out early before breakfast andwhen he returned, he brought a hare in his hand, which he laid on thetable. 

"There, " said he, "my spring has answered, and this is the firstfruits of it. Now I'll make some more, and we will have something byway of a change for dinner. "

They were very much pleased with Humphrey's success, and he was not alittle proud of it. 

"How did you find out how to make it?"

"Why, I read in the old book of travels which Jacob brought home withhim last summer, of people catching rabbits and hares in some way likethis; I could not make it out exactly, but it gave me the idea. "

We ought to have told the reader that Jacob had more than once broughthome an old book or two which he had picked up, or had given him, andthat these had been occasionally looked into by Humphrey and Edward, but only now and then, as they had too much to do to find much timefor reading, although sometimes, in the evening, they did take themup. When it is considered how young they were, and what a practicaland busy life they led, this can not be surprising. 

CHAPTER VII. 

Humphrey was now after something else. He had made several traps, andbrought in rabbits and hares almost every day. He had also made somebird-traps, and had caught two goldfinches for Alice and Edith, whichthey put in the cages he had made for them. But, as we said, Humphreywas about something else; he was out early in the morning, and in theevening, when the moon was up, he came home late, long after they hadall gone to bed; but they never knew why, nor would he tell them. Aheavy fall of snow took place, and Humphrey was more out than ever. Atlast, about a week after the snow had laid on the ground, one morninghe came in with a hare and rabbit in his hand, and said, "Edward, I have caught something larger than a hare or a rabbit, andyou must come and help me, and we must take our guns. Jacob, I supposeyour rheumatism is too bad to let you come too?"

"No; I think I can manage. It's the damp that hurts me so much. Thisfrosty air will do me good, perhaps. I have been much' better sincethe snow fell. Now, then, let us see what you have caught. "

"You will have to walk two miles, " said Humphrey, as they went out. 

"I can manage it, Humphrey, so lead the way. "

Humphrey went on till they came close to a clump of large trees, andthen brought them to a pitfall which he had dug, about six feet wideand eight feet long, and nine feet deep. 

"There's my large trap, " said Humphrey, "and see what I have caught init. "

They looked down into the pit and perceived a young bull in it. Smoker, who was with him, began to bark furiously at it. 

"Now, what are we to do? I don't think it is hurt. Can we get it out?"said Humphrey. 

"No, not very well. If it was a calf, we might; but it is too heavy, and if we were to get it out alive, we must kill it after ward, so wehad better shoot it at once. "

"So I think, " replied Humphrey. 

"But how did you catch him?" said Edward. 

"I read of it in the same book I did about the traps for hares, "replied Humphrey. "I dug out the pit and covered it with brambles, andthen put snow at the top. This is the thicket that the herd comes tochiefly in winter time; it is large and dry, and the large treesshelter it; so that is why I chose this spot. I took a large bundle ofhay, put some on the snow about the pit, and then strewed some moreabout in small handfuls, so that the cattle must find it, and pick itup, which I knew they would be glad to do, now that the snow is on theground. And now, you see, I have succeeded. "

"Well, Humphrey, you beat us, I will say, " said Edward. "Shall I shoothim?"

"Yes, now that he is looking up. "

Edward shot his ball through the forehead of the animal, which felldead: but they were then obliged to go home for the pony and cart, andropes to get the animal out of the pit, and a hard job they had of ittoo; but the pony helped them, and they did get it out at last. 

"I will do it easier next time, " said Humphrey. "I will make awindlass as soon as I can, and we will soon hoist out another, likethey turn a bucket of water up from a well"

"It's nice young meat, " said Jacob, who was skinning the bull, "notabove eighteen months old, I should think. Had it been a full-grownone, like that we shot, it must have remained where it was, for wenever could have got it out. "

"Yes, Jacob, we should, for I should have gone down and cut it up inthe pit, so that we would have handed it out by bits, if we could nothave managed him whole. "

They loaded the cart with the skin and quarters of the animal, andthen drove home. 

"This will go far to pay for the gun, Humphrey, " said Jacob, "if itdon't pay for more. " "I am glad of it, " said Humphrey, "but I hope itwill not be the last which I take. "

"That reminds me, Humphrey, of one thing; I think you must come backwith the cart and carry away all the entrails of the beast, and removeall the blood which is on the snow, for I've observed that cattle arevery scared with the smell and sight of blood. I found that out byonce or twice seeing them come to where I have cut the throat of astag, and as soon as they have put their noses down to where the bloodwas on the ground, they have put their tails up and galloped away, bellowing at a terrible rate. Indeed, I've heard say, that if a murderhas been committed in a wood, and you want to find the body, that aherd of cattle drove into it will serve you better than even abloodhound. "

"Thank you for telling me that, Jacob, for I should never havesupposed it, and I'll tell you what I'll also do; I'll load the cartwith fern litter, and put it at the bottom of the pit, so that if Icould get a heifer or calf worth taking, it may not be hurt by thefall. "

"It must have taken you a long while to dig that pit, Humphrey. "

"Yes, it did, and as I got deeper the work was harder, and then I hadto carry away all the earth and scatter it about. I was more than amonth about it from the time that I began till it was finished, and Ihad a ladder to go up and down by at last, and carried the baskets ofearth up, for it was too deep to throw it out. "

"Nothing like patience and perseverance, Humphrey. You've more than Ihave. "

"I'm sure he has more than I have, or shall ever have, I'm afraid, "replied Edward. 

During this winter, which passed rapidly way very few circumstances ofany consequence occurred. Old Jacob was more or less confined to thecottage by the rheumatism, and Edward hunted either by himself oroccasionally with Humphrey. Humphrey was fortunate enough to take abull and a cow calf in his pitfall, both of them about a year orfifteen months old, and by a rude invention of his, by way ofwindlass, contrived, with the assistance of Edward, to hoist themuninjured out of the pit. They were put into the yard, and afterhaving been starved till they were tamed, they followed the example ofthe heifer and calf, and became quite tame. These were an importantaddition to their stock, as may well be imagined. The only mishapunder which they labored was, old Jacob's confinement to the cottage, which, as the winter advanced, prevented him from going to Lymington;they could not, therefore, sell any venison; and Humphrey, by way ofexperiment, smoked some venison hams, which he hung up with theothers. There was another point on which they felt anxiety, which was, that Jacob could not cross the forest to get the puppies which hadbeen promised them, and the time was passed, for it was now January, when he was to have called for them. Edward and Humphrey pressed theold man very hard to let one of them go, but the only answer theycould obtain was "that he'd be better soon. " At last, finding that hegot worse instead of better, he consented that Edward should go. Hegave directions how to proceed, the way he was to take, and adescription of the keeper's lodge; cautioned him to call himself bythe name of Armitage, and describe himself as his grandson. Edwardpromised to obey Jacob's directions, and the next morning he set off, mounted upon White Billy, with a little money in his pocket in case heshould want it. 

"I wish I was going with you, " said Humphrey, as he walked by the sideof the pony. 

"I wish you were, Humphrey: for my part, I feel as if I were a slaveset at liberty. I do justice to old Jacob's kindness and good will, and acknowledge how much we are indebted to him; but still to behoused up here in the forest, never seeing or speaking to any one, shut out from the world, does not sun Edward Beverley. Our father wasa soldier, and a right good one, and if I were old enough I think evennow I should escape and join the royal party, broken as it may be andby all accounts is, at this moment. Deer stalking is all very well, but I fly at higher game. " "I feel the same as you do, " repliedHumphrey: "but recollect, Edward, that the old man's very infirm, andwhat would become of our sisters if we were to leave them?"

"I know that well, Humphrey--I have no idea of leaving them, you maybe sure; but I wish they were with our relations in safety, and thenwe should be free to act. "

"Yes, we should, Edward; but recollect that we are not yet men, andboys of fifteen and thirteen can not do much, although they may wishto do much. "

"It's true that I am only fifteen, " replied Edward, "but I am strongenough, and so are you. I think if I had a fair cut at a man's head Iwould make him stagger under it, were he as big as a buffalo. As youngas I have been to the wars, that I know well; and I recollect myfather promising me that I should go with him as soon as I wasfifteen. "

"What puzzles me, " replied Humphrey, "is, the fear that old Jacob hasof our being seen at Lymington. "

"Why, what fear is there?"

"I can not tell more than you; in my opinion, the fear is only in hisown imagination. They surely would not hurt us (if we walked aboutwithout arms like other people) because our father had fought for theking? That they have beheaded some people it is true, but then theywere plotting in the king's favor, or in other ways opposed toParliament. This I have gathered from Jacob: but I can not see what wehave to fear if we remain quiet. But now comes the question, Edward, for Jacob has, I believe, said more to me on one subject than he hasto you. Suppose you were to leave the forest, what would be the firststep which you would take?"

"I should, of course, state who I was, and take possession of myfather's property at Arnwood, which is mine by descent. "

"Exactly; so Jacob thinks, and he says that would be your ruin, forthe property is sequestered, as they call it, or forfeited to theParliament, in consequence of your father having fought against it onthe king's side. It no longer belongs to you, and you would not beallowed to take it: on the contrary, you would, in all probability, beimprisoned, and who knows what might then take place? You see there isdanger. "

"Did Jacob say this to you?"

"Yes, he did: he told me he dare not speak to you on the subject, youwere so fiery; and if you heard that the property was confiscated, youwould certainly do some rash act, and that any thing of the kind wouldbe a pretense for laying hold of you; and then he said that he did notthink that he would live long, for he was weaker every day; and thathe only hoped his life would be spared another year or two, that hemight keep you quiet till better times came. He said that if theysupposed that we were all burned in the house when it was fired, itwould give them a fair opportunity of calling you an impostor andtreating you accordingly, and that there were so many anxious to havea gift of the property, that you would have thousands of peoplecompassing your death. He said that your making known yourself andclaiming your property would be the very conduct that your enemieswould wish you to follow, and would be attended with most fatalconsequences; for he said, to prove that you were Edward Beverley, youmust declare that I and your sisters were in the forest with him, andthis disclosure would put the whole family in the power of theirbitterest enemies; and what would become of your sisters, it would beimpossible to say, but most likely they would be put under the chargeof some Puritan family who would have a pleasure in ill-treating andhumiliating the daughters of such a man as Colonel Beverley. "

"And why did he not tell me all this?"

"He was afraid to say any thing to you; he thought that you would beso mad at the idea of this injustice that you would do something rash:and he said, I pray every night that my otherwise useless life may bespared; for, were I to die, I know that Edward would quit the forest. "

"Never, while my sisters are under my protection, " replied Edward;"were they safe, I would be out of it to-morrow. "

"I think, Edward, that there is great truth in what Jacob says; youcould do no good (for they would not restore your property) by makingyour seclusion known at present, and you might do a great deal ofharm--'bide your time' is good advice in such troubled times. Itherefore think that I should be very wary if I were you; but I stillthink that there is no fear of either you or I going out of theforest, in our present dresses and under the name of Armitage. No onewould recognize us; you are grown tall and so am I, and we are sotanned and sunburned with air and exercise, that we do look more likeChildren of the Forest than the sons of Colonel Beverley. "

"Humphrey, you speak very sensibly, and I agree with you. I am notquite so fiery as the old man thinks; and if my bosom burns withindignation, at all events I have sufficient power to conceal myfeelings when it is necessary; I can oppose art to art, if it becomesrequisite, and which, from what you have said, I believe now is reallyso. One thing is certain, that while King Charles is a prisoner, as henow is, and his party dispersed and gone abroad, I can do nothing, andto make myself known would only be to injure myself and all of us. Keep quiet, therefore, I certainly shall, and also remain as I am now, under a false name; but still I must and will mix up with other peopleand know what is going on. I am willing to live in this forest andprotect my sisters as long as it is necessary so to do; but although Iwill reside here, I will not be confined to the forest altogether. "

"That's exactly what I think too, Edward--what I wish myself; but letus not be too hasty even in this. And now, I will wish you a pleasantride; and, Edward, if you can, procure of the keepers some small shotfor me; I much wish to have some. "

"I will not forget; good-by, brother. "

Humphrey returned home to attend his farmyard, while Edward continuedhis journey through the forest. Some estimate of the character of thetwo boys may be formed from the above conversation. Edward wascourageous and impetuous hasty in his resolves, but still open toconviction. Brought up as the heir to the property, he felt, more thanHumphrey could be expected to do, the mortification of being left apauper, after such high prospects in his early days: his vindictivefeelings against the opposite party were therefore more keen, and hisspirit mounted more from the conviction under which he labored. Hisdisposition was naturally warlike, and this disposition had beenfostered by his father when he was a child--still a kinder heart or amore generous lad never existed. 

Humphrey was of a much more subdued and philosophical temperament, notperhaps so well calculated to lead as to advise; there was greatprudence in him united with courage, but his was a passive couragerather than an active one--a courage which, if assailed, would defenditself valiantly, but would be wary and reflective before it wouldattack. Humphrey had not that spirit of chivalry possessed by Edward. He was a younger son, and had to earn, in a way, his own fortune, andhe felt that his inclinations were more for peace than strife. Moreover, Humphrey had talents which Edward had not--a natural talentfor mechanics, and an inquisitive research into science, as far as hislimited education would permit him. He was more fitted for an engineeror an agriculturist than for a soldier, although there is no doubtthat he would have made a very brave soldier, if such was to havebecome his avocation. 

For kindness and generosity of nature he was equal to his brother, andthis was the reason why an angry word never passed between them; forthe question between them was not which should have his way, but whichshould give up most to the wishes of the other. We hardly need say, that there never were two brothers who were more attached, and who somutually respected each other. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Edward put the pony to a trot, and in two hours was on the other sideof the New Forest. The directions given to him by Jacob were notforgotten, and before it was noon he found himself at the gate of thekeeper's house. Dismounting, and hanging the bridle of the pony overthe rail, he walked through a small garden, neatly kept, but, so earlyin the year, not over gay, except that the crocus and snowdrops werepeeping. He rapped at the door with his knuckles, and a girl of aboutfourteen, very neatly dressed, answered the summons. 

"Is Oswald Partridge at home, maiden, " said Edward. 

"No, young man, he is not. He is in the forest?"

"When will he return?"

"Toward the evening is his time, unless he is more than usuallysuccessful. "

"I have come some distance to find him, " replied Edward; "and it wouldvex me to return without seeing him. Has he a wife, or any one that Icould speak to?"

"He has no wife; but I am willing to deliver a message. "

"I am come about some dogs which he promised to Jacob Armitage, myrelation; but the old man is too unwell, and has been for some time, to come himself for them, and he has sent me. "

"There are dogs, young and old, large and small, in the kennels; sofar do I know, and no more. "

"I fear, then, I must wait till his return, " replied Edward. 

"I will speak to my father, " replied the young girl, "if you will waitone moment. "

In a minute or two the girl returned, saying that her father beggedthat he would walk in, and he would speak with him. Edward bowed, andfollowed the young girl, who led the way to a room, in which wasseated a man dressed after the fashion of the Roundheads of the day. His steeple-crowned hat lay on the chair, with his sword beneath it. He was sitting at a table covered with papers. 

"Here is the youth, father, " said the girl; and having said this, shecrossed the room and took a seat by the side of the fire. The man, orwe should rather say gentleman--for he had the appearance of one, notwithstanding the somber and peculiar dress he wore, continued toread a letter which he had just opened; and Edward, who feared himselfthe prisoner of a Roundhead, when he only expected to meet a keeper, was further irritated by the neglect shown toward him by the party. Forgetting that he was, by his own assertion, not Edward Beverley, butthe relative of one Jacob Armitage, he colored up with anger as hestood at the door. Fortunately the time that it took the other partyto read through the letter gave Edward also time for recollecting thedisguise under which he appeared; the color subsided from his cheeks, and he remained in silence, occasionally meeting the look of thelittle girl, who, when their eyes met, immediately withdrew herglance. 

"What is your business, young man?" at last said the gentleman at thetable. 

"I came, sir, on private business with the keeper, Oswald Partridge, to obtain two young hounds, which he promised to my grandfather, JacobArmitage. "

"Armitage!" said the other party, referring to a list on the table;"Armitage--Jacob--yes--I see he is one of the verderers. Why has henot been here to call upon me?"

"For what reason should he call upon you, sir?" replied Edward. 

"Simply, young man, because the New Forest is, by the Parliament, committed to my charge. Notice has been given for all those who wereemployed to come here, that they might be permitted to remain, or bedischarged, as I may deem most advisable. "

"Jacob Armitage has heard nothing of this, sir, " replied Edward. "Hewas a keeper, appointed under the king; for two or three years hisallowances have never been paid, and he has lived on his own cottage, which was left to him by his father, being his own property. "

"And pray, may I ask, young man, do you live with Jacob Armitage?"

"I have done so for more than a year. "

"And as your relation has received no pay and allowances, as youstate, pray by what means has he maintained himself?"

"How have the other keepers maintained themselves?" replied Edward. 

"Do not put questions to me, sir, " replied the gentleman; "but bepleased to reply to mine. What has been the means of subsistence ofJacob Armitage?"

"If you think he has no means of subsistence, sir, you are mistaken, "replied Edward. "We have land of our own, which we cultivate; we haveour pony and our cart; we have our pigs and our cows. "

"And they have been sufficient?"

"Had the patriarchs more?" replied Edward. 

"You are pithy at reply, young man; but I know something of JacobArmitage, and we know, " continued he, putting his finger close to somewriting opposite the name on the list, "with whom he has associated, and with whom he has served. Now allow me to put one question. Youhave come, you say, for two young hounds. Are their services requiredfor your pigs and cows, and to what uses are they to be put. "

"We have as good a dog as there is in the forest, " replied Edward;"but we wished to have others in case we should lose him. "

"As good a dog as in the forest--good for what?"

"For hunting. "

"Then you acknowledge that you do hunt?"

"I acknowledge nothing for Jacob Armitage; he may answer for himself, "replied Edward; "but allow me to assure you that if he has killedvenison, no one can blame him. "

"Perhaps you will explain why?"

"Nothing is more easy. Jacob Armitage served King Charles, whoemployed him as a verderer in the forest, and paid him his wages. Those who should not have done so rebelled against the king, took hisauthority from him, and the means of paying those he employed. Theywere still servants of the king, for they were not dismissed; and, having no other means of support, they considered that their goodmaster would be but too happy that they should support themselves bykilling, for their subsistence, that venison which they could nolonger preserve for him without eating some themselves. "

"Then you admit that Jacob Armitage has killed the deer in theforest?"

"I admit nothing for Jacob Armitage. "

"You admit that you have killed it yourself. "

"I shall not answer that question, sir; in the first place, I am nothere to criminate myself; and, in the next, I must know by whatauthority you have the right to inquire. "

"Young man, " replied the other, in a severe tone, "if you wish to knowmy authority, malapert as you are (at this remark Edward started, yet, recollecting himself, he compressed his lips and stood still), this ismy commission, appointing me the agent of Parliament to take chargeand superintend the New Forest, with power to appoint and dismissthose whom I please. I presume you must take my word for it, as youcan not read and write. "

Edward stepped up to the table, and very quietly took up the paper andread it. "You have stated what is correct, sir, " said he, laying itdown; "and the date of it is, I perceive, on the 20th of the lastmonth--December. It is, therefore, but eighteen days old. "

"And what inference would you draw from that, young man ?" replied thegentleman, looking up to him with some astonishment. 

"Simply this, sir--that Jacob Armitage has been laid up with therheumatism for three months, during which time he certainly has notkilled any venison. Now, sir, until the Parliament took the forestinto their hands, it undoubtedly belonged to his majesty, if it doesnot now; therefore Jacob Armitage, for whatever slaughter he may havecommitted, is, up to the present, only answerable to his sovereign, King Charles. "

"It is easy to perceive the school in which you have been brought up, young man, even if there was not evidence on this paper that yourforefather nerved under the Cavalier, Colonel Beverley, and has beenbrought up to his way of thinking. "

"Sir, it is a base dog that bites the hand that feeds him, " repliedEdward, with warmth. "Jacob Armitage, and his father before him, wereretainers in the family of Colonel Beverley; they were indebted to himfor the situation they held in the forest; indebted to him for everything; they revere his name, they uphold the cause for which he fell, as I do. "

"Young man, if you do not speak advisedly, at all events you speakgratefully; neither have I a word of disrespect to offer to the memoryof Colonel Beverley, who was a gallant man, and true to the causewhich he espoused, although it was not a holy one; but, in myposition, I can not, in justice to those whom I serve, give places andemolument to those who have been, and still are, as I may judge byyour expressions, adverse to the present government. "

"Sir, " replied Edward, "your language, with respect to ColonelBeverley, has made me feel respect for you, which I confess I did notat first; what you say is very just, not that I think you harm JacobArmitage, as, in the first place, I know that he would not serve underyou; and, in the next, that he is too old and infirm to hold thesituation; neither has he occasion for it, as his cottage and land arehis own, and you can not remove him. "

"He has the title, I presume, " replied the gentleman. 

"He has the title given to his grandfather, long before King Charleswas born, and I presume the Parliament do not intend to invalidate theacts of former kings. "

"May I inquire what relation you are to Jacob Armitage?"

"I believe I have said before, his grandson. "

"You live with him?"

"I do. "

"And if the old man dies, will inherit his property?"

Edward smiled, and looking at the young girl, said:

"Now, I ask you, maiden, if your father does not presume upon hisoffice. "

The young girl laughed, and said:

"He is in authority. "

"Not over me, certainly, and not over my grandfather, for he hasdismissed him. "

"Were you brought up at the cottage, young man?"

"No, sir, I was brought up at Arnwood. I was playmate of the childrenof Colonel Beverley. "

"Educated with them?"

"Yes, for as far as my willfulness would permit, the chaplain wasalways ready to give me instruction. "

"Where were you when Arnwood was burned down?"

"I was at the cottage at that time, " replied Edward, grinding histeeth and looking wildly. 

"Nay, nay, I can forgive any expression of feeling on your part, youngman, when that dreadful and disgraceful deed is brought to yourmemory. It was a stain that can never be effaced--a deed mostdiabolical, and what we thought would call down the vengeance ofHeaven. If prayers could avert, or did avert it, they were not wantingon our side. "

Edward remained silent: this admission on the part of the Roundheadprevented an explosion on his part. He felt that all were not so badas he had imagined. After a long pause, he said:

"When I came here, sir, it was to seek Oswald Partridge, and obtainthe hounds which he had promised us; but I presume that my journey isnow useless. "

"Why so?"

"Because you have the control of the forest, and will not permit dogsfor the chase to be given away to those who are not employed by thepowers that now govern. "

"You have judged correctly, in so far that my duty is to prevent it;but as the promise was made previous to the date of my commission, Ipresume, " said he, smiling, "you think I have no right to interfere, as it will be an _ex post facto_ case if I do: I shall not, therefore, interfere, only I must point out to you that the laws are still thesame relative to those who take the deer in the forest by stealth--youunderstand me?"

"Yes, sir, I do; and if you will not be offended, I will give you acandid reply. "

"Speak, then. "

"I consider that the deer in this forest belong to King Charles, whois my lawful sovereign, and I own no authority but from him. I holdmyself answerable to him alone for any deer I may kill, and I feelsure of his permission and full forgiveness for what I may do. "

"That may be your opinion, my good sir, but it will not be the opinionof the ruling powers; but if caught, you will be punished, and that byme, in pursuance of the authority vested in me. "

"Well, sir, if so, so be it. You have dismissed the Armitages onaccount of their upholding the king, and you can not, therefore, besurprised that they uphold him more than ever. Nor can you besurprised if a dismissed verderer becomes a poacher. "

"Nor can you be surprised, if a poacher is caught, that he incurs thepenalty, " replied the Roundhead. "So now there's an end of ourargument. If you go into the kitchen you will find wherewithal torefresh the outward man, and if you wish to remain till OswaldPartridge comes home, you are welcome. "

Edward, who felt indignant at being dismissed to the kitchen, noddedhis head and smiled upon the little girl, and left the room. "Well, "thought he, as he went along the passage, "I came here for twopuppies, and I have found a Roundhead. I don't know how it is, but Iam not angry with him as I thought I should be. That little girl had anice smile--she was quite handsome when she smiled. Oh, this is thekitchen, to which, " thought he, "the Lord of Arnwood is dismissed by aCovenanter and Roundhead, probably a tradesman or outlaw, who hasserved the cause. Well, be it so; as Humphrey says, 'I'll bide mytime. ' But there is no one here, so I'll try if there is a stable forWhite Billy, who is tired, I presume, of being at the gate. "

Edward returned by the way he came, went out of the front door andthrough the garden to where the pony was made fast, and led him awayin search of a stable. He found one behind the house, and filling therack with hay, returned to the house and seated himself at a porchwhich was at the door which led to the back premises, for the keeper'shouse was large and commodious. Edward was in deep thought, when hewas roused by the little girl, the daughter of the newly-appointedintendant of the forest, who said:

"I am afraid, young sir, you have had but sorry welcome in thekitchen, as there was no one to receive you. I was not aware thatPhoebe had gone out. If you will come with me, I may perhaps find yourefreshment. "

"Thanks, maiden, you are kind and considerate to an avowed poacher, "replied Edward. 

"Oh, but you will not poach, I'm sure; and if you do, I'll beg you offif I can, " replied the girl, laughing. 

Edward followed her into the kitchen, and she soon produced a coldfowl and a venison pasty, which she placed on the table; she then wentout and returned with a jug of ale. 

"There, " said she, putting it on the table, "that is all that I canfind. ". 

"Your father's name is Heatherstone, I believe. It was so on thewarrant. "

"Yes, it is. "

"And yours?"

"The same as my father's, I should presume. "

"Yes, but your baptismal name?"

"You ask strange questions, young sir; but still I will answer youthat: my baptismal name is Patience. "

"I thank you for your condescension, " replied Edward "You live here?"

"For the present, good sir; and now I leave you. "

"That's a nice little girl, thought Edward, although she is thedaughter of a Roundhead; and she calls me 'Sir. ' I can not, therefore, look like Jacob's grandson, and must be careful. " Edward then set towith a good appetite at the viands which had been placed before him, and had just finished a hearty meal when Patience Heatherstone againcame in and said:

"Oswald Partridge is now coming home. "

"I thank you, maiden, " replied Edward. "May I ask a question of you?Where is the king now?"

"I have heard that he resides at Hurst Castle, " replied the girl;"but, " added she in a low tone, "all attempts to see him would beuseless and only hurt him and those who made the attempt. " Having saidthis, she left the room. 

CHAPTER IX. 

Edward, having finished his meal, and had a good pull at the jug ofale, which was a liquor he had not tasted for a long while, rose fromthe table and went out of the back door, and found there OswaldPartridge. He accosted him, stating the reason for his coming over tohim. "I did not know that Jacob had a grandson: indeed I never knewthat he had a son. Have you been living with him long?"

"More than a year, " replied Edward; "before that, I was in thehousehold at Arnwood. "

"Then you are of the king's side, I presume?" replied Oswald. 

"To death, " replied Edward, "when the time comes. "

"And I am also; that you may suppose, for never would I give a houndto any one that was not. But we had better go to the kennels. Dogs mayhear, but they can't repeat. "

"I little thought to have met any one but you here when I came, " saidEdward; "and I will now tell you all that passed between me and thenew intendant. " Edward then related the conversation. 

"You have been bold, " said Oswald; "but perhaps it is all the better. I am to retain my situation, and so are two others; but there are manynew hands coming in as rangers. I know nothing of them, but that theyare little fitted for their places, and rail against the king all daylong, which, I suppose, is their chief merit in the eyes of those whoappoint them. However, one thing is certain, that if those fellows cannot stalk a deer themselves, they will do all they can to preventothers; so you must be on the alert, for the punishment is severe. "

"I fear them not; the only difficulty is, that we shall not be able tofind a sale for the venison now, " replied Edward. 

"Oh never fear that; I will give you the names of those who will takeall your venison off your hands without any risk on your part, exceptin the killing of it. They will meet you in the park, lay down readymoney, and take it away. I don't know, but I have an idea, that thisnew intendant, or what you may call him, is not so severe as hepretends to be. Indeed, his permitting you to say what he did, and hisown words relative to the colonel, convince me that I am right in theopinion that I formed. "

"Do you know who he is?"

"Not much about him, but he is a great friend of General Cromwell, andthey say has done good service to the Parliamentary cause; but weshall meet again, for the forest is free at all events. "

"If you come here, " continued Oswald, "do not carry your gun--and seethat you are not watched home. There are the dogs for yourgrandfather. Why, how old must you be, for Jacob is not more thansixty or thereabout?"

"I am fifteen, past, nevertheless. "

"I should have put you down for eighteen or nineteen at least. You arewell grown indeed for that age. Well, nothing like a forest life toturn a boy into a man! Can you stalk a deer?"

"I seldom go out without bringing one down. "

"Indeed! That Jacob is a master of his craft, is certain; but you areyoung to have learned it so soon. Can you tell the slot of a brocketfrom a stag?"

"Yes, and the slot of a brocket from a doe. "

"Better still. We must go out together; and besides, I must know wherethe old man's cottage is (for I do not exactly), in the first place, because I may want to come to you, and in the next, that I may putothers on a false scent. Do you know the clump of large oaks whichthey call the Clump Royal?"

"Yes, I do. "

"Will you meet me there the day after to-morrow, at early dawn?"

"If I live and do well. "

"That's enough. Take the dogs in the leashes, and go away now. "

"Many thanks; but I must not leave the pony, he is in the stable. "

The keeper nodded adieu to Edward, who left him to go to the stablefor the pony. Edward saddled White Billy, and rode away across theforest with the dogs trotting at the pony's heels. 

Edward had much to reflect upon as he rode back to the cottage. Hefelt that his position was one of more difficulty than before. Thatold Jacob Armitage would not last much longer, he was convinced; evennow the poor old man was shrunk away to a skeleton with pain anddisease. That the livelihood to be procured from the forest would beattended with peril, now that order had been restored, and the forestwas no longer neglected, was certain; and he rejoiced that Humphreyhad, by his assiduity and intelligence, made the farm so profitable asit promised to be. Indeed he felt that, if necessary, they could liveupon the proceeds of the farm, and not run the risk of imprisonment bystalking the deer. But he had told the intendant that he consideredthe game as the king's property, and he was resolved that he would atall events run the risk, although he would no longer permit Humphreyso to do. "If any thing happens to me, " thought Edward, "Humphrey willstill be at the cottage to take care of my sisters; and if I amobliged to fly the country, it will suit well my feelings, as I canthen offer my services to those who still support the king. " Withthese thoughts and many others he amused himself until, late in theevening, he arrived at the cottage. He found all in bed exceptHumphrey, who had waited for him, and to whom he narrated all that hadpassed. Humphrey said little in reply; he wished to think it overbefore he gave any opinion. He told Edward that Jacob had been veryill the whole of the day, and had requested Alice to read the Bible tohim during the evening. 

The next morning Edward went to Jacob, who for the last ten days hadaltogether kept his bed, and gave him the detail of what had happenedat the keeper's lodge. 

"You have been more bold than prudent, Edward, " replied Jacob; "but Icould not expect you to have spoken otherwise. You are too proud andtoo manly to tell a lie, and I am glad that it is so. As for yourupholding the king, although he is now a prisoner in their hands, theycan not blame you or punish you for that, as long as you have notweapons in your hands; but now that they have taken the forest undertheir jurisdiction, you must be careful, for they are the rulingpowers at present, and must be obeyed, or the forfeit must be paid. Still I do not ask you to promise me this or that; I only point out toyou that your sisters will suffer by any imprudence on your part; andfor their sakes be careful. I say this, Edward, because I feel that mydays are numbered, and that in a short time I shall be called away. You will then have all the load on your shoulders which has beenlatterly on mine. I have no fear for the result if you are prudent;these few months past, during which I have only been a burden to you, have proved that you and Humphrey can find a living here foryourselves and your sisters; and it is fortunate, now that the forestlaws are about to be put in force, that you have made the farm soprofitable. If I might advise, let your hunting in the forest beconfined to the wild cattle; they are not game, and the forest laws donot extend to them, and the meat is as valuable as venison--that is tosay, it does not sell so dear, but there is more of it; but stick tothe farm as much as you can; for you see, Edward, you do not look likea low-born forester, nor ought you to do so; and the more quiet youkeep the better. As for Oswald Partridge, you may trust him; I knowhim well; and he will prove your friend for my sake, as soon as hehears that I am dead. Leave me now--I will talk to you again in theevening. Send Alice to me, my dear boy. "

Edward was much distressed to perceive the change which had takenplace in old Jacob. He was evidently much worse; but Edward had noidea how much worse he was. Edward assisted Humphrey in the farm, andin the evening again went to Jacob, and then told him of thearrangement he had made to meet Oswald Partridge on the followingmorning. 

"Go, my boy, " said Jacob; "be as intimate with him as you can, andmake a friend of him--nay, if it should be necessary, you may tell himwho you are; I did think of telling him myself, as it might beimportant to you one day as evidence. I think you had better bring himhere to-morrow night, Edward; tell him I am dying, and wish to speakto him before I go. Alice will read the Bible to me now, and I willtalk with you another time. "

Early the next morning Edward set off to the appointed rendezvous withOswald Partridge. The Clump Royal, as it was called, from the peculiarsize and beauty of the oaks, was about seven miles from the cottage;and at the hour and time indicated, Edward, with his gun in his hand, and Smoker lying beside him, was leaning against one of those monarchsof the forest. He did not wait long. Oswald Partridge, similarlyprovided, made his appearance, and Edward advanced to meet him. 

"Welcome, Oswald, " said Edward. 

"And welcome to you also, my fine lad, " replied Oswald. "I have beenhard questioned about you since we parted--first by the RoundheadHeatherstone, who plied me in all manner of ways to find out whetheryou are what you assert, the grandson of Jacob--or some other person. I really believe that he fancies you are the Duke of York--but he, could not get any more from me than what I knew. I told him that yourgrandfather's cottage was his own property, and a grant to hisforefathers; that you were brought up at Arnwood, and had joined yourgrandfather after the death of the colonel, and the murderous burningof the house and all within it by his party. But the pretty littledaughter was more curious still. She cross-questioned me in every waywhen her father was not present, and at last begged me as a favor totell you not to take the deer, as her father was very strict in hisduty, and, if caught, you would be imprisoned. "

"Many thanks to her for her caution, but I hope to take one to-day, nevertheless, " replied Edward; "a hart royal is not meat forRoundheads, although the king's servants may feast on them. "

"That's truly said. Well, now I must see your woodcraft. You shall bethe leader of the chase. "

"Think you we can harbor a stag about here?"

"Yes, in this month, no doubt. "

"Let us walk on, " said Edward. "The wind is fresh from the easternquarter; we will face it, if you please--or, rather, keep it blowingon our right cheek for the present. "

"'Tis well, " replied Oswald; and they walked for about half an hour. 

"This is the slot of a doe, " said Edward, in a low voice, pointing tothe marks; "yonder thicket is a likely harbor for the stag. " Theyproceeded, and Edward pointed out to Oswald the slot of the stag intothe thicket. They then walked round, and found no marks of the animalhaving left his lair. 

"He is here, " whispered Edward; and Oswald made a sign for Edward toenter the thicket, while he walked to the other side. Edward enteredthe thicket cautiously. In the center he perceived, through the trees, a small cleared spot, covered with high fern, and felt certain thatthe stag was lying there. He forced his way on his knees till he had abetter view of the place, and then cocked his gun. The noise inducedthe stag to move his antlers, and discover his lair. Edward could justperceive the eye of the animal through the heath; he waited till thebeast settled again, took steady aim, and fired. At the report of thegun another stag sprung up and burst away. Oswald fired and woundedit, but the animal made off, followed by the dogs. Edward, who hardlyknew whether he had missed or not, but fait almost certain that he hadnot, hastened out of the thicket to join in the chase; and, as hepassed through the fern patch, perceived that his quarry lay dead. Hethen followed the chase, and, being very fleet of foot, soon came upwith Oswald, and passed him without speaking. The stag made for aswampy ground, and finally took to the water beyond it, and stood atbay. Edward then waited for Oswald, who came up with him. "

"He has soiled, " said Edward, "and now you may go in and kill him. "

Oswald, eager in the chase, hastened up to where the dogs and stagwere in the water, and put a bullet through the animal's head. 

Edward went to him, assisted him to drag the stag out of the water, and then Oswald cut its throat, and proceeded to perform the usualoffices. 

"How did you happen to miss him?" said Oswald; "for these are myshots. "

"Because I never fired at him, " said Edward; "my quarry lies dead inthe fern--and a fine fellow he is. "

"This is a warrantable stag, " said Oswald. 

"Yes, but mine is a hart royal, as you will see when we go back. "

As soon as Oswald had done his work, he hung the quarters of theanimal on an oak-tree, and went back with Edward. 

"Where did you hit him, Edward?" said Oswald, as they walked along. 

"I could only see his eye through the fern, and I must have hit himthereabouts. "

On their arrival at the spot, Oswald found that Edward had put theball right into the eye of the stag. 

"Well, " said he, "you made me suppose that you knew something of ourcraft, but I did not believe that you were so apt as you thoughtyourself to be. I now confess that you are a master, as far as I cansee, in all branches of the craft. This is indeed a hart royal. Twenty-five antlers, as I live! Come, out with your knife, and let usfinish; for if we are to go to the cottage, we have no time to lose. It will be dark in half an hour. " They hung all the quarters of thestag as before, and then set off for Jacob's cottage, Edward proposingthat Oswald should take the cart and pony to carry the meat home nextmorning, and that he would accompany him to bring it back. 

"That will do capitally, " said Oswald; "and here we are, if Irecollect right, and I hope there is something to eat. "

"No fear of that--Alice will be prepared for us, " replied Edward. 

Their dinner was ready for them, and Oswald praised the cooking. Hewas much surprised to see that Jacob had four grandchildren. Afterdinner, he went into Jacob's room, and remained with him more than anhour. During this conference, Jacob confided to Oswald that the fourchildren were the sons and daughters of Colonel Beverley, supposed tohave been burned in the firing of Arnwood. Oswald came out, muchsurprised as well as pleased with the information, and with theconfidence reposed in him. He saluted Edward and Humphreyrespectfully, and said, "I was not aware with whom I was in company, sir, as you may well imagine; but the knowledge of it has made myheart glad. "

"Nay, Oswald, " replied Edward, "remember that I am still EdwardArmitage, and that we are the grandchildren of old Jacob. "

"Certainly, sir, I will, for your own sake, not forget that such is tobe supposed to be the case. I assure you, I think it very fortunatethat Jacob has confided the secret to me, as it may be in my power tobe useful. I little thought that I should ever have had my dinnercooked by the daughter of Colonel Beverley. "

They then entered into a long conversation, during which Oswaldexpressed his opinion that the old man was sinking fast, and would notlast more than three or four days. Oswald had a bed made up for him onthe floor of the room where Edward and Humphrey slept; and the nextmorning they set off, at an early hour, with the pony and cart, loadedit with venison, and took it across the forest to the keeper's lodge. It was so late when they arrived, that Edward consented to pass thenight there, and return home on the following morning. Oswald wentinto the sitting-room to speak with the intendant of the forest, leaving Edward in the kitchen with Phoebe, the maid-servant. He toldthe intendant that he had brought home some fine venison, and wishedhis orders about it. He also stated that he had been assisted byEdward Armitage, who had brought the venison home for him in his cart, and who was now in the kitchen, as he would be obliged to pass thenight there; and, on being questioned, he was lavish in his praises ofEdward's skill and knowledge of woodcraft, which he declared to besuperior to his own. 

"It proves that the young man has had much practice, at all events, "replied Mr. Heatherstone, smiling. "He has been living at the king'sexpense, but he must not follow it up at the cost of the Parliament. It would be well to take this young man as a ranger if we could; foralthough he is opposed to us, yet, if he once took our service, hewould be faithful, I am sure. You can propose it to him, Oswald. Thehunches of that hart royal must be sent up to General Cromwell to-morrow: the remainder we will give directions for, as soon as I havemade up my mind how to dispose of it. "

Oswald left the room, and came back to Edward. "General Cromwell is tohave the hunches of your stag, " said he to Edward, smiling: "and theintendant proposes that you should take service as one of therangers. "

"I thank you, " replied Edward, "but I've no fancy to find venison forGeneral Cromwell and his Roundheads; and so. You may tell theintendant, with many thanks for his good-will toward me, nevertheless. "

"I thought as much, but the man meant kindly, that I really think. Now, Phoebe, what can you give us to eat, for we are hungry?"

"You shall be served directly, " replied Phoebe. "I have some steaks onthe fire. "

"And you must find a bed for my young friend here. "

"I have none in the house, but there is plenty of good straw over thestables. "

"That will do, " replied Edward; "I'm not particular. "

"I suppose not. Why should you be?" replied Phoebe, who was rather oldand rather cross. "If you mount the ladder that you will see againstthe wall, you will find a good bed when you are at the top of it. "

Oswald was about to remonstrate, but Edward held up his finger and nomore was said. 

As soon as they had finished their supper, Phoebe proposed that theyshould go to bed. It was late, and she would sit up no longer. Edwardrose and went out, followed by Oswald, who had given up the keeper'shouse to the intendant and his daughter, and slept in the cottage ofone of the rangers, about a quarter of a mile off. After someconversation, they shook hands and parted, as Edward intendedreturning very early the next morning, being anxious about old Jacob. 

Edward went up the ladder into the loft. There was no door to shut outthe wind, which blew piercingly cold and after a time he found himselfso chilled that he could not sleep. He rose to see if he could notfind some protection from the wind by getting more into a corner; foralthough Phoebe had told him that there was plenty of straw, it provedthat there was very little indeed in the loft, barely enough to liedown upon. Edward, after a time, descended the ladder to walk in theyard, that by exercise he might recover the use of his limbs. At last, turning to and fro, he cast his eyes up to the window of the bedroomabove the kitchen, where he perceived a light was still burning. Hethought it was Phoebe, the maid, going to bed; and with no verygracious feelings toward her for having deprived him of his ownnight's rest, he was wishing that she might have the toothache orsomething else to keep her awake, when suddenly through the whitewindow curtain he perceived a broad light in the room--it increasedevery moment--and he saw the figure of a female rush past it, andattempt to open the window--the drawing of the curtains showed himthat the room was on fire. A moment's thought, and he ran for theladder by which he had ascended to the loft, and placed it against thewindow. The flames were less bright, and he could not see the femalewho had been at the window when lie went for the ladder. He ascendedquickly, and burst open the casement--the smoke poured out in suchvolumes that it neatly suffocated him, but he went in; and as soon ashe was inside, he stumbled against the body of the person who hadattempted to open the window, but who had fallen down senseless. As heraised the body, the fire, which had been smothered from want of airwhen all the windows and doors were closed, now burst out, and he wasscorched before he could get on the ladder again, with the body in hisarms; but he succeeded in getting it down safe. Perceiving that theclothes were on fire, he held them till they were extinguished, andthen for the first time discovered that he had brought down thedaughter of the intendant of the forest. There was no time to be lost, so Edward carried her into the stable and left her there, stillinsensible, upon the straw, in a spare stall, while he hastened toalarm the house. The watering-butt for the horses was outside thestable; Edward caught up the pail, filled it, and hastening up theladder, threw it into the room, and then descended for more. 

By this time Edward's continual calls of "Fire! fire!" had aroused thepeople of the house, and also of the cottages adjacent. Mr. Heatherstone came out half dressed, and with horror on hiscountenance. Phoebe followed screaming, and the other people nowhastened from the cottages. 

"Save her! my daughter is in the room!" exclaimed Mr. Heatherstone. "Oh, save her, or let me do so!" cried the poor man, in agony; but thefire burst out of the window in such force, that any attempt wouldhave been in vain. 

"Oswald, " cried Edward to him, "let the people pass the water up to meas fast as possible. They can do no good looking on. "

Oswald set the men to work, and Edward was now supplied with water sofast that the fire began to diminish. The window was now approachable, and a few more buckets enabled him to put one foot into the room, andthen every moment the flames and smoke decreased. 

Meanwhile it would be impossible to describe the agony of theintendant, who would have rushed up the ladder into the flames, had henot been held by some of the men. "My daughter! my child!--burned--burned to death!" exclaimed he, clasping his hands. 

At that moment a voice in the crowd called out, "There were fourburned at Arnwood!"

"God of Heaven!" exclaimed Mr. Heatherstone, falling down in a swoon, in which state he was carried to a neighboring cottage. 

Meanwhile the supply of water enabled Edward to put out the firealtogether: the furniture of the room was burned, but the fire hadextended no farther; and when Edward was satisfied that there was nomore danger, he descended the ladder, and left it to others to seethat all was safe. He then called Oswald to him, and desired that hewould accompany him to the stable. 

"Oh, sir, " replied Oswald, "this is dreadful! and such a sweet younglady too. "

"She is safe and well, " replied Edward, "I think so, at least. Ibrought her down the ladder, and put her in the stable before Iattempted to put out the fire. See, there she is; she has notrecovered yet from her swoon. Bring some water. She breathes! thankGod! There, that will do, Oswald, she is recovering. Now let us coverher up in your cloak, and carry her to your cottage. We will recoverher there. "

Oswald folded up the still unconscious girl in his cloak, and earnedher away in his arms, followed by Edward. 

As soon as they arrived at the cottage, the inmates of which were allbusy at the keeper's lodge, they put her on a bed, and very soonrestored her to consciousness. 

"Where is my father?" cried Patience, as soon as she was sufficientlyrecovered. 

"He is safe and well, miss, " replied Oswald. 

"Is the house burned down?"

"No. The fire is all out again. "

"Who saved me? tell me. "

"Young Armitage, miss. "

"Who is he? oh, I recollect now; but I must go to my father. Where ishe?"

"In the other cottage, miss. "

Patience attempted to stand, but found that she was too muchexhausted, and she fell back again on the bed. "I can't stand, " saidshe. "Bring my father to me. "

"I will, miss, " replied Oswald. "Will you stay here, Edward?"

"Yes, " replied Edward. He went out of the cottage door, and remainedthere while Oswald went to Mr. Heatherstone. 

Oswald found him sensible, but in deep distress, as may be imagined. "The fire is all out, sir, " said Oswald. 

"I care not for that. My poor, poor child!"

"Your child is safe, sir, " replied Oswald. 

"Safe, did you say?" cried Mr. Heatherstone, starting up. "Safe!where'?"

"In my cottage. She has sent me for you. "

Mr. Heatherstone rushed out, passed by Edward, who was standing at thedoor of the other cottage, and was in his daughter's arms. Oswald cameout to Edward, who then detailed to mm the way in which he had savedthe girl. 

"Had it not been for the ill-nature of that woman Phoebe, in sendingme to sleep where there was no straw, they would all have beenburned, " observed Edward. 

"She gave you an opportunity of rewarding good for evil, " observedOswald. 

"Yes, but I am burned very much in my arm, " said Edward. "Have you anything that will be good for it?"

"Yes, I think I have: wait a moment. "

Oswald went into the cottage and returned with some salve, with whichhe dressed Edward's arm, which proved to be very severely burned. 

"How grateful the intendant ought to be--and will be, I have nodoubt!" observed Oswald. 

"And for that very reason I shall saddle my pony and ride home as fastas I can; and, do you hear, Oswald, do not show him where I live. "

"I hardly know how I can refuse him, if he requires it. "

"But you must not. He will be offering me a situation in the forest, by way of showing his gratitude, and I will accept of none. I have noobjection to save his daughter, as I would save the daughter of myworst enemy, or my worst enemy himself, from such a dreadful death;but I do not want their thanks or offers of service. I will acceptnothing from a Roundhead; and as for the venison in the forest, itbelongs to the king, and I shall help myself whenever I think proper. Good-by, Oswald, you will call and see us when you have time?"

"I will be with you before the week is out, depend upon it, " repliedOswald. 

Edward then asked Oswald to saddle his pony for him, as his armprevented him from doing it himself, and, as soon as it was done, herode away from the cottage. 

Edward rode fast, for he was anxious to get home and ascertain thestate of poor old Jacob; and, moreover, his burned arm was verypainful. He was met by Humphrey about a mile from the cottage, whotold him that he did not think that the old man could last many hours, and that he was very anxious to see him. As the pony was quite tiredwith the fast pace that Edward had ridden, Edward pulled up to a walk, and as they went along acquainted Humphrey with what had passed. 

"Is your arm very painful?"

"Yes, it is, indeed, " replied Edward; "but it can't be helped. "

"No, of course not, but it may be made more easy. I know what will doit some good; for I recollect, when Benjamin burned his hand atArnwood, what they applied to it, and it gave him great relief. "

"Yes, very likely; but I am not aware that we have any drugs ormedicine in the cottage. But here we are: will you take Billy to thestable, while I go on to old Jacob?

"Thank God that you are come, Edward, " said the old forester, "for Iwas anxious to see you before I die; and something tells me that Ihave but a short time to remain here. "

"Why should you say so! Do you fed very ill?"

"No, not ill; but I feel that I am sinking fast. Recollect that I aman old man, Edward. "

"Not so very old, Jacob; Oswald said that you were not more than sixtyyears old. "

"Oswald knows nothing about it. I am past seventy-six, Edward; and youknow, Edward, the Bible says that the days of man are threescore yearsand ten; so that I am beyond the mark. And now, Edward, I have but fewwords to say. Be careful--if not for your own sake, at least for yourlittle sisters'. You are young, but you are strong and powerful aboveyour years, and can better protect them than I could. I see darkerdays yet coming--but it is His will, and who shall doubt that that isright? I pray you not to make your birth and lineage known as yet--itcan do no good, and it may do harm--and if you can be persuaded tolive in the cottage, and to live on the farm, which will now supportyou all, it will be better. Do not get into trouble about the venison, which they now claim as their own. You will find some money in the bagin my chest, sufficient to buy all you want for a long while--but takecare of it; for there is no saying but you may require it. And now, Edward, call your brother and sisters to me, that I may bid themfarewell. I am, as we all are, sinful, but I trust in the mercy of Godthrough Jesus Christ. Edward, I have done my duty toward you, as wellas I have been able; but promise me one thing--that you will read theBible and prayers every morning and evening, as I have always done, after I am gone; promise me that, Edward. "

"I promise you that it shall be done, Jacob, " replied Edward, "and Iwill not forget your other advice. "

"God bless you, Edward. Now call the children. "

Edward summoned his sisters and Humphrey. 

"Humphrey, my good boy, " said Jacob, "recollect, that in the midst oflife we are in death; and that there is no security for young or old. You or your brother may be cut off in your youth; one may be taken, and the other left. Recollect, your sisters depend upon you, and donot therefore be rash: I fear that you will run too much risk afterthe wild cattle, for you are always scheming after taking them. Becareful, Humphrey, for you can ill be spared. Hold to the farm as itnow is: it will support you all. My dear Alice and Edith, I am dying;very soon I shall be laid by your brothers in my grave. Be goodchildren, and look up to your brothers for every thing. And now kissme, Alice; you have been a great comfort to me, for you have read theBible to me when I could no longer read myself. May your death-bed beas well attended as mine has been, and may you live happily, and diethe death of a Christian! Good-by, and may God bless you. Bless you, Edith; may you grow up as good and as innocent as you are now. Farewell, Humphrey--farewell, Edward--my eyes are dim--pray for me, children. O God of mercy, pardon my many sins, and receive my soul, through Jesus Christ. Amen, Amen. "

These were the last words spoken by the old forester. The children, who were kneeling by the side of the bed, praying as he had requested, when they rose up, found that he was dead. They all wept bitterly, forthey dearly loved the good old man. Alice remained sobbing in Edward'sarms, and Edith in Humphrey's, and it was long before the brotherscould console them. Humphrey at last said to Alice, "You hurt poorEdward's arm--you don't know how painful it is! Come, dears, let us gointo the other room, and get something to take the pain away. "

These requests diverted the attention, at the same time that it rousedfresh sympathy in the little girls--they all went into the sitting-room. Humphrey gave his sisters some potatoes to scrape upon a pieceof linen, while he took off Edward's coat, and turned up his shirtsleeves. The scraped potatoes were then laid on the burn, and Edwardsaid they gave him great relief. Some more were then scraped by thelittle girls, who could not, however, repress their occasional sobs. Humphrey then told them that Edward had had nothing to eat, and thatthey must get him some supper. This again occupied them for some time;and when the supper was ready, they all sat down to it. They went tobed early, but not before Edward had read a chapter out of the Bible, and the prayers, as old Jacob had always done; and this again causedtheir tears to flow afresh. 

"Come, Alice, dear, you and Edith must go to bed, " said Humphrey. 

The little girls threw themselves into their brothers' arms; andhaving wept for some time, Alice reused herself, and taking Edith bythe hand, led her away to her bedroom. 

CHAPTER X. 

"Humphrey, " said Edward, "the sooner all this is over the better. Aslong as poor Jacob's body remains in the cottage there will be nothingbut distress with the poor girls. "

"I agree with you, " replied Humphrey; "where shall we bury him?"

"Under the great oak-tree, at the back of the cottage, " repliedEdward. "One day the old man said to me, that he should like to beburied under one of the oaks of the forest. "

"Well then, I will go and dig his grave to-night, " replied Humphrey;"the moon is bright, and I shall have it finished before morning. "

"I am sorry that I can not help you, Humphrey. "

"I am sorry that you are hurt; but I want no help, Edward. If you willlie down a little, perhaps you will be able to sleep. Let us changethe potato poultice before you go on. "

Humphrey put the fresh dressing on Edward's arm; and Edward, who wasvery much exhausted, lay down in his clothes on the bed. Humphrey wentout, and having found his tools, set to his task--he worked hard, and, before morning, had finished. He then went in, and took his place onthe bed, by the side of Edward, who was in a sound sleep. At daylightHumphrey rose, and waked Edward. "All is ready, Edward; but I fear youmust help me to put poor Jacob in the cart: do you think you can?"

"Oh, yes; my arm is much easier, and I feel very different from what Idid last night. If you will go and get the cart, I will see what I cando in the mean time. "

When Humphrey returned, he found Edward had selected a sheet to windthe body in, but could not do more till Humphrey came to help him. They then wrapped it round the body, and earned it out of the cottage, and put it into the cart. 

"Now, Edward, shall we call our sisters?"

"No, not yet; let us have the body laid in the grave first, and thenwe will call them. "

They dragged the body on the cart to the grave, and laid it in it, andthen returned back and put the pony in the stable again. 

"Are there not prayers proper for reading over the dead?" saidHumphrey. 

"I believe that there are, but they are not in the Bible, so we mustread some portion of the Bible, " said Edward. 

"Yes, I think there is one of the Psalms which it would be right toread, Edward, " said Humphrey, turning over the leaves; "here it is, the ninetieth, in which you recollect it says, 'that the days of manare threescore years and ten. '"

"Yes, " replied Edward, "and we will read this one also, the 146th. "

"Are our sisters risen, do you think?"

"I am sure that they are, " replied Humphrey, "and I will go to them. "

Humphrey went to the door, and said, "Alice--Alice and Edith--come outimmediately. " They were both ready dressed. 

Edward took the Bible under his arm, and Alice by the hand. Humphreyled Edith until they arrived at the grave, when the two little girlssaw the covered body of Jacob lying in it. 

"Kneel down, " said Edward, opening the Bible. And they all knelt downby the grave. Edward read the two Psalms, and then closed the book. The little girls took one last look at the body, and then turned awayweeping to the cottage. Edward and Humphrey filled up the grave, andthen followed their sisters home. 

"I'm glad it's over, " said Humphrey, wiping his eyes. "Poor old Jacob!I'll put a paling round his grave. "

"Come in, Humphrey, " said Edward. 

Edward sat down upon old Jacob's chair, and took Alice and Edith tohim. Putting his arm round each, he said--

"Alice and Edith, my dear little sisters, we have lost a good friend, and one to whose memory we can not be too grateful. He saved us fromperishing in the flames which burned down our father's house, and hasprotected us here ever since. He is gone, for it has pleased God tosummon him to him, and we must bow to the will of Heaven; and here weare, brother and sisters, orphans, and with no one to look to forprotection but Heaven. Here we are away from the rest of the world, living for one another. What, then, must we do? We must love oneanother dearly, and help one another. I will do my part, if my life isspared, and so will Humphrey, and so will you my dear sisters. I cananswer for all. Now it is no use to lament--we must all work, and workcheerfully; and we will pray every morning and every night that Godwill bless our endeavors and enable us to provide for ourselves, andlive here in peace and safety. Kiss me, dear Alice and Edith, and kissHumphrey, and kiss one another. Let these kisses be the seals to ourbond; and let us put our trust in Him who only is a father to thewidow and the orphan. And now let us pray. "

Edward and the children repeated the Lord's Prayer, and then rose up. They went to their respective employments, and the labor of the daysoon made them composed, although then, for many days afterward, itwas but occasionally that a smile was seen upon their lips. 

Thus passed a week, by which time Edward's arm was so far well that itgave him no pain, and he was able to assist Humphrey in the work onthe farm. The snow had disappeared, and the spring, although it hadbeen checked for a time, now made rapid advances. Constant occupation, and the return of fine weather, both had the effect of returning theserenity of their minds; and while Humphrey was preparing the palingto fix round the grave of old Jacob, Alice and Edith collected thewild violets which now peeped forth on sheltered spots, and plantedthe roots over the grave. Edward also procured all the early flowershe could collect, and assisted his sisters in their task; and thus, inplanting it, and putting up the paling, the grave of the old manbecame the constant work-ground; and when their labor was done, theywould still remain there and talk over his worth. The Sunday followingthe burial, the weather being fine and warm, Edward proposed that theyshould read the usual service, which had been selected by old Jacob, at the grave, and not in the cottage, as formerly; and this theycontinued afterward to do, whenever the weather would permit: thus didold Jacob's resting-place become their church, and overpower them withthose feelings of love and devotion which gave efficacy to prayer. Assoon as the paling was finished, Humphrey put up a board against theoak-tree, with the simple words carved on it, "Jacob Armitage. "

Edward had, every day, expected that Oswald Partridge would havecalled upon him, as he had promised to do, before the week was out;but Oswald had not made his appearance, much to Edward's surprise. Amonth passed away; Edward's arm was now quite well, and still Oswaldcame not. One morning, Humphrey and Edward were conversing upon manypoints--the principal of which was upon Edward going to Lymington, forthey were now in want of flour and meal, when Edward thought of whatold Jacob had told him relative to the money that he would find in hischest. He went into Jacob's room and opened the chest, at the bottomof which, under the clothes, he found a leather bag, which he broughtout to Humphrey; on opening it, they were much surprised to find in itmore than sixty gold pieces, besides a great deal of silver coin. 

"Surely this is a great sum of money, " observed Humphrey. "I don'tknow what is the price of things; but it appears to me, that it oughtto last us a long while. "

"I think so too, " replied Edward. "I wish Oswald Partridge would come, for I want to ask him many questions. I don't know the price of flour, or anything else we have to purchase, nor do I know what I ought to bepaid for venison. I don't like to go to Lymington till I see him forthat reason. If he does not come soon, I shall ride over and see whatis the matter. "

Edward then replaced the money in the chest, and he and Humphrey thenwent out to the farmyard to go on with their work. 

It was not until six weeks after the death of old Jacob that OswaldPartridge made his appearance. 

"How is the old man, sir?" was his first question. 

"He was buried a few days after you left, " replied Edward. 

"I expected as much, " said the forester. "Peace be with him--he was agood man. And how is your arm?"

"Nearly well, " replied Edward. "Now sit down, Oswald, for I have agreat deal to say to you; and first, let me ask you what has detainedyou from coming here according to your promise?"

"Simply, and in few words--murder. "

"Murder!" exclaimed Edward. 

"Yes, deliberate murder, sir; in short, they have beheaded KingCharles, our sovereign. "

"Have they dared to do it?"

"They have, " replied Oswald. "We in the forest know little that isgoing on; but when I saw you last, I heard that he was then in London, and was to be tried. "

"Tried!" exclaimed Edward. "How could they try a king? by the laws ofour country, a man must be tried by his equals; and where were hisequals?"

"Majesty becomes naught, I suppose, " replied Oswald; "but still it isas I say. Two days after you left, the intendant hastened up toLondon, and, from what I have understood, he was strongly opposed tothe deed, and did all he could to prevent it; but it was of no use. When he left, he gave me strict injunctions not to go away from thecottage for an hour, as his daughter was left alone; and as Ipromised, I could not come to you; but, nevertheless, Patiencereceived letters from him, and told me what I tell you. "

"You have not dined, Oswald?" said Edward. 

"No, that I have not. "

"Alice, dear, get some dinner, will you? And Oswald, while you dine, excuse me if I leave you for a while. Your intelligence has soastounded me that I can listen to nothing else till I have had alittle while to commune with myself and subdue my feelings. "

Edward was indeed in a state of mind which required calming down. Hequitted the cottage and walked out for some distance into the forest, in deep thought. 

"Murdered at last!" exclaimed he. "Yes, well may it be called murder, and no one to save him--not a blow struck in his defense--not an armraised. How much gallant blood has been shed in vain! Spirit of myfathers, didst thou leave none of thy mettle and thy honour behindthee; or has all England become craven? Well, the time will come, andif I can no longer hope to fight for my king, at all events I canfight against those who have murdered him. "

Such were Edward's thoughts as he wandered through the forest, andmore than an hour elapsed before his impetuous blood could return toits usual flow; at last, his mind having partially resumed its wontedcalmness, he returned to the cottage and listened to the details whichOswald now gave to him of what he had heard. 

When Oswald had finished, Edward asked him whether the intendant hadreturned. 

"Yes, or I should not have been here, " replied Oswald. "He came backyesterday, looking most disconsolate and grave, and I hear that hereturns to London in a few days. Indeed, he told me so himself, for Irequested permission to come over to see your grandfather. He saidthat I might go, but must return soon, as he must go back to London. Ibelieve, from what Miss Patience told me, and what I have seen myself, that he is sincerely amazed and vexed at what has taken place; and so, indeed, are many more, who, although opposed to the king's method ofgovernment, never had an idea that things should have turned out asthey have done. I have a message from him to you, which is, that hebegs you will come to see him, that he may thank you for thepreservation of his child. "

"I will take his thanks from you, Oswald: that will do as well as ifhe gave them me in person. "

"Yes, perhaps so; but I have another message from another party, whichis--the young lady herself. She desires me to tell you that she willnever be happy till she has seen you, and thanked you for your courageand kindness; and that you have no right to put her under such anobligation, and not give her an opportunity of expressing what shefeels. Now, Mr. Edward, I am certain that she is earnest in what shesays, and she made me promise that I would persuade you to come. Icould not refuse her, for she is a dear little creature; as her fatherwill go to London in a few days, you may ride over and see her withoutany fear of being affronted by any offers which he may make to you. "

"Well, " replied Edward, "I have no great objection to see her again, for she was very kind to me; and as you say that the intendant willnot be there, I perhaps may come. But now I must talk to you aboutother matters. "

Edward then put many questions to Oswald relative to the value ofvarious articles, and to the best method of disposing of his venison. 

Oswald answered all his questions, and Edward took down notes anddirections on paper. 

Oswald remained with them for two days, and then bade them farewell, exacting a promise from Edward that he would come to the ranger'scottage as soon as he could. "Should the intendant come back before heis expected I will come over and let you know; but I think, from whatI heard him say he expected to be at least a month in London. "

Edward promised that Oswald should see him in less than ten days, andOswald set out on his journey. 

"Humphrey, " said Edward, as soon as Oswald was gone, "I have made upmy mind to go to Lymington to-morrow We must have some flour, and manyother articles, which Alice says she can no longer do without. "

"Why should we not both go, Edward?" replied Humphrey. 

"No, not this time, " replied Edward. "I have to find out many thingsand many people, and I had rather go by myself; besides, I can notallow my sisters to be left alone. I do not consider there is anydanger, I admit; but should any thing happen to them, I should neverforgive myself. Still, it is necessary that you should go to Lymingtonwith me some time or another, that you may know where to purchase andsell, if required. What I propose is, that I will ask Oswald to comeand stay here a couple of days. We will then leave him in charge ofour sisters, and go to Lymington together. "

"You are right, Edward, that will be the best plan. "

As Humphrey made this remark, Oswald re-entered the cottage. 

"I will tell you why I have returned, Mr. Edward, " said Oswald. "It isof no consequence whether I return now or to-morrow. It is now early, and as you intend going to Lymington, it occurred to me that I hadbetter go with you. I can then show you all you want, which will bemuch better than going by yourself. "

"Thank you, Oswald, I am much obliged to you, " said Edward. 

"Humphrey, we will get the cart out immediately, or we shall be late. Will you get it, Humphrey, for I must go for some money, and speak toAlice. "

Humphrey went immediately to put the pony in the cart, when Edwardsaid, "Oswald, you must not call me Mr. Edward, even when we are alone: ifyou do you will be calling me so before other people, and, therefore, recollect in future, it must be plain Edward. "

"Since you wish it, certainly, " replied Oswald; "indeed it. Would bebetter, for a slip of the tongue before other people might createsuspicion. "

The pony and cart were soon at the door, and Edward having receivedfurther instructions from Alice, set off for Lymington, accompanied byOswald. 

CHAPTER XI. 

"Would you have found your way to Lymington?" said Oswald, as the ponytrotted along. 

"Yes; I think so, " replied Edward; "but I must have first gone toArnwood. Indeed, had I been alone I should have done so; but we havemade a much shorter cut. "

"I did not think that you would have liked to have seen the ruins ofArnwood, " replied Oswald. 

"Not a day passes without my thinking of them, " replied Edward. "Ishould like to see them. I should like to see if any one has takenpossession of the property, for they say it is confiscated. "

"I heard that it was to be, but not that it was yet, " said Oswald;"but we shall know more when we get to Lymington. I have not seen itfor more than a year. I hardly think that any one will recognize you. "

"I should think not; but I care little if they do. Indeed, who is theeto know me?"

"Well, my introduction of you will save some surmises, probably; and Ishall not take you among those who may be inclined to ask questions. See, there is the steeple; we have not more than a quarter of anhour's drive. "

As soon as they arrived at Lymington, Oswald directed the way to asmall hostelry to which the keepers and verderers usually resorted. Infact, the landlord was the party who took all the venison off theirhands, and disposed of it. They drove into the yard, and, giving thepony and cart in charge of the hostler, went into the inn, where theyfound the landlord, and one or two other people, who were drinking. 

"Well, Master Andrew, how fare you?" said Oswald. 

"Let me see, " said the corpulent landlord, throwing back his head, andputting out his stomach, as he peered at Oswald. "Why, OswaldPartridge, as I am a born man. Where have you been this many a day!"

"In the forest, Master Andrew, where there are no few chops andchanges. "

"Yes, you have a sort of Parliamentary keeper, I'm told; and who isthis with you?"

"The grandson of an old friend of yours, now dead, poor old JacobArmitage. "

"Jacob dead, poor fellow! As true as flint was Jacob Armitage, as I'ma born man! And so he is dead! Well, we all owe Heaven a death. Foresters and landlords, as well as kings, all must die!"

"I have brought Edward Armitage over here to introduce him to you, Master Andrew. Now that the old man is dead, you must look to him forforest meat. "

"Oh, well, well, it is scarce now. I have not had any for some time. Old Jacob brought me the last. You are not one of the Parliamentaryforesters, then, I presume?" continued the landlord, turning toEdward. 

"No, " replied Edward, "I kill no venison for Roundheads. "

"Right, my sapling; right and well said. The Armitages were all goodmen and true, and followed the fortunes of the Beverleys; but thereare no Beverleys to follow now. Cut off--root and branch--more's thepity. That was a sad business. But come in; we must not talk here, forwalls have ears, they say, and one never knows who one dares to speakbefore now. "

Oswald and Edward then entered with the landlord, and arrangementswere made between Master Andrew and the latter for a regular supply ofvenison during the season, at a certain price; but as it would now bedangerous to bring it into the town, it was agreed that when there wasany ready, Edward should come to Lymington and give notice, and thelandlord would send out people to bring it in during the night. Thisbargain concluded, they took a glass with the landlord, and then wentinto the town to make the necessary purchases. Oswald took Edward toall the shops where the articles he required were to be purchased;some they carried away with them; others, which were too heavy, theyleft, to be called for with the cart as they went away. Among otherarticles, Edward required powder and lead, and they went to agunsmith's where it was to be procured. While making his purchases, Edward perceived a sword, which he thought he had seen before, hangingup against the wall among other weapons. 

"What sword is that?" said he, to the man who was measuring out thepowder. 

"It's not my sword, exactly, " replied the man; "and yet I can notreturn it to its owner or to the family. It was brought me to becleaned by one of Colonel Beverley's people, and before it was calledfor the house was burned, and every soul perished. It was one of thecolonel's swords, I am sure, as there is E. B. On a silver plateengraved on it. I have a bill owing me for work done at Arnwood, and Ihave no chance of its being paid now; so, whether I am to sell thesword, or what to do, I hardly know. "

Edward remained silent for some little while, for he could not trusthimself to speak; at last he replied: "To be candid with you, I am, and all my family have been, followers of the Beverley family, and Ishould be sorry if the colonel's sword was to fall into any otherhands. I think, therefore, if I pay the bill which is due, you maysafely let me hold the sword as a security for the money, with theexpress understanding that if it is ever claimed by the Beverleyfamily I am to give it up. "

"Certainly, " said Oswald; "nothing can be fairer or more clearly put. "

"I think so, too, young man, " replied the shopkeeper. "Of course youwill leave your name and address?"

"Yes; and my friend here will vouch for its being correct, " repliedEdward. 

The shopkeeper then produced the account, which Edward paid; andgiving on the paper the name of Edward Armitage, he took possession ofthe sword. He then paid for the powder and lead, which Oswald tookcharge of, and, hardly able to conceal his joy, hastened out of theshop. 

"Oswald, " cried Edward, "I would not part with it for thousands ofpounds. I never will part with it but with my life. "

"I believe so, " replied Oswald; "and I believe more, that it willnever be disgraced in your hands; but do not talk so loud, for thereare listeners and spies everywhere. Is there any thing else that yourequire?"

"No, I think not; the fact is, that this sword has put every thing outof my head. If there was anything else, I have forgotten it. Let us goback to the inn, and we will harness the pony, and call for the flourand oatmeal. "

When they arrived at the inn, Oswald went out to the yard to get thecart ready, while Edward went into the landlord's room to makeinquiries as to the quantity of venison he would be able to take offhis hands at a time. Oswald had taken the sword from Edward, and hadput it in the cart while he was fastening the harness, when a man cameup to the cart and looked earnestly at the sword. He then examined it, and said to Oswald, "Why that was Colonel Beverley's, my old master's sword. I knowed itagain directly. I took it to Phillips, the gun maker, to be cleaned. "

"Indeed!" replied Oswald; "I pray, what may be your name?"

"Benjamin White, " replied the man; "I served at Arnwood till the nightit was burned down; and I have been here ever since. "

"And what are you doing now?"

"I'm tapster at the 'Commonwealth, ' in Fish-street--not much of aplace. "

"Well, well, you stand by the pony, and look that nobody takes anything out of the cart, while I go in for some parcels. "

"Yes, to be sure I will; but, I say, forester, how came you by thatsword?'

"I will tell you when I come out again, " replied Oswald. 

Oswald then went in to Edward, and told him what had occurred. 

"He will certainly know you, sir, and you must not come out till I canget him away, " said he. 

"You are right, Oswald; but before he goes, ask him what became of myaunt, and where she was buried; and also ask him where the otherservants are--perhaps they are at Lymington as well as he. "

"I will find it all out, " replied Oswald, who then left Edward, andreturned to the landlord and recommenced conversation. 

Oswald on his return, told Benjamin in what manner the sword had beenprocured from the shopman, by the grandson of old Armitage. 

"I never knew that he had one, " replied Benjamin; "nor did I know thatold Jacob was dead. "

"What became of all the women who were at Arnwood?" inquired Oswald. 

"Why, Agatha married one of the troopers, and went away to London. "

"And the others?"

"Why, cook went home to her friends, who live about ten miles fromhere, and I have never heard of her since. "

"But there were three of them, " said Oswald. 

"Oh, yes; there was Phoebe, " relied Benjamin, looking rather confused. "She married a trooper--the jilt!--and went off to London when Agathadid. If I'd have thought that she would have done so, I would not haveearned her away from Arnwood behind me, on a pillion, as I did; shemight have been burned with the poor children, for all as I cared. "

"Was not the old lady killed?"

"Yes; that is to say, she killed herself, rather than not killSouthwold. "

"Where was she buried?"

"In the church-yard at St. Faith's, by the mayor and the corporation;for there was not money enough found upon her person to pay theexpenses of her burial. "

"And so you are tapster at the Commonwealth. Is it a good inn?"

"Can't say much for it. I shan't stay longer than I can help, I cantell you. "

"Well, but you must have an easy place, if you can stay away as longas you do now. "

"Won't I be mobbed when I go back! but that's always the case, makehaste or not, so it's all one. However, I do think I must be agoingnow, so good-by, Mr. Forester; and tell Jacob Armitage's grandson thatI shall be glad to see him, for old Jacob's sake; and it's hard, butI'll find him something to drink when he calls. "

"I will: I shall see him to-morrow. " replied Oswald, getting into thecart; "so good-by, Benjamin, " much to the satisfaction of Oswald, whothought that he would never go. 

They went away at a rapid pace to make up for lost time, and soondisappeared around the corner of the street. Oswald then got outagain, summoned Edward, and having called for the flour and otherheavy articles, they set off on their return. 

During the drive, Oswald made known to Edward the information which hehad gained from Benjamin, and at a late hour they arrived safely atthe cottage. 

They staid up but a short time, as they were tired; and Oswald hadresolved upon setting off before daylight on the following morning, which he did without disturbing any one; for Humphrey was up anddressed as soon as Oswald was and gave him something to eat as he wentalong. All the others remained fast asleep. Humphrey walked about amile with Oswald, and was returning to the farm when he thought, as hehad not examined his pitfall for many days, that he might as well lookat it before he went back. He therefore struck out in the direction inwhich it lay, and arrived there just as the day began to dawn. 

It was the end of March, and the weather was mild for the season. Humphrey arrived at the pit, and it was sufficiently light for him toperceive that the covering had been broken in, and therefore, in allprobability, something must have been trapped. He sat down and waitedfor daylight, but at times he thought he heard a heavy breathing, andonce a low groan. This made him more anxious, and he again and againpeered into the pit, but could not for a long while discover anything, until at last he thought that he could make out a human figurelying at the bottom. Humphrey called out, asking if there was any onethere. A groan was the reply, and now Humphrey was horrified with theidea that somebody had fallen into the pit, and had perished, or wasperishing for want of succor. Recollecting that the rough ladder whichhe had made to take the soil up out of the pit was against an oak-tree, close at hand, he ran for it, and put it down the pit, and thencautiously descended. On his arrival at the bottom, his fears werefound to be verified, for he saw the body of a lad, half clothed, lying there. He turned it up as it was lying with its face to theground, and attempted to remove it, and to ascertain if there was lifein it, which he was delighted to find was the case. The lad groanedseveral times, and opened his eyes. Humphrey was afraid that he wasnot strong enough to lift him on his shoulders and carry him up theladder; but, on making the attempt he found out, from exhaustion, thepoor lad was light enough for him to carry him, which he did, andsafely landed him by the side of the pit. 

Recollecting that the watering-place of the herd of cattle was not faroff, Humphrey then hastened to it, and filled his hat half full ofwater. The lad, although he could not speak, drank eagerly, and in afew minutes appeared much recovered. Humphrey gave him some more, andbathed his face and temples. The sun had now risen, and it was broaddaylight. The lad attempted to speak, but what he did say was in solow a tone, and evidently in a foreign language, that Humphrey couldnot make him out. He, therefore, made signs to the lad that he wasgoing away, and would be back soon; and having, as he thought, madethe lad comprehend this, Humphrey ran away to the cottage as fast ashe could; and as soon as he arrived he called for Edward, who cameout, and when Humphrey told him in few words what had happened, Edwardwent into the cottage again for some milk and some cake, whileHumphrey put the pony into the cart. 

In a few moments they were off again, and soon arrived at the pitfall, where they found the lad, still lying where Humphrey had left him. They soaked the cake in the milk, and as soon as it was soft gave himsome; after a time, he swallowed pretty freely, and was so muchrecovered as to be able to sit up. They then lifted him into the cart, and drove gently home to their cottage. 

"What do you think he is, Edward?" said Humphrey. 

"Some poor beggar lad, who has been crossing the forest. "

"No, not exactly: he appears to me to be one of the Zingaros orGipsies, as they call them: he is very dark, and has black eyes andwhite teeth, just like those I saw once near Arnwood, when I was outwith Jacob. Jacob said that no one knew where they came from, but thatthey were all over the country, and that they were great thieves, andtold fortunes, and played all manner of tricks. "

"Perhaps it may be so; I do not think that he can speak English. "

"I am most thankful to Heaven that I chanced this morning to visit thepitfall. Only suppose that I had found the poor boy starved and dead!I should have been very unhappy, and never should have had anypleasure in looking at the cows, as they would always have reminded meof such a melancholy accident. "

"Very true, Humphrey; but you have been saved that misfortune, andought to be grateful to Heaven that such is the case. What shall we dowith him now we have him?"

"Why if he chooses to remain with us, he will be very useful in thecow-yard, " said Humphrey. 

"Of course, " replied Edward, laughing, "as he was taken in the pit-fall, he must go into the yard with all the others who were capturedin the same way. "

"Well, Edward, let us get him all right again first, and then we willsee what is to be done with him; perhaps he will refuse to remain withus. "

As soon as they arrived at the cottage, they lifted the lad out of thecart, and carried him into Jacob's room, and laid him on the bed, forhe was too weak to stand. 

Alice and Edith, who were much surprised at the new visitor and theway in which he had been caught, hastened to get some gruel ready forhim. As soon as it was ready, they gave it to the boy, who then fellback on the bed with exhaustion, and was soon in a sound sleep. Heslept soundly all that night; and the next morning, when he awoke, heappeared much better, although very hungry. This last complaint waseasy to remedy, and then the lad got up, and walked into the sitting-room. 

"What's your name?" said Humphrey to the lad. 

"Pablo, " replied the lad. 

"Can you speak English?"

"Yes, little, " replied he. 

"How did you happen to fall into the pit?"

"Not see hole. "

"Are you a gipsy?"

"Yes, gitano--same thing. "

Humphrey put a great many more questions to the lad, and elicited fromhim, in his imperfect English, the following particulars:

That he was in company with several others of his race, going down tothe sea-coast on one of their usual migrations, and that they hadpitched their tents not far from the pitfall. That during the night hehad gone out to set some snares for rabbits, and going back to thetents, it being quite dark, he had fallen into the hole; that he hadremained there three days and nights, having in vain attempted to getout. His mother was with the party of gipsies to which he belonged, but he had no father. He did not know where to follow the gang, asthey had not said where they were going, farther than to the sea-coast. That it was no use looking for them; and that he did not caremuch about leaving them, as he was very unkindly treated. In reply tothe question as to whether he would like to remain with them, and workwith them on the farm, he replied that he should like it very much ifthey would be kind to him, and not make him work too hard; that hewould cook the dinner, and catch them rabbits and birds, and make agreat many things. 

"Will you be honest, if we keep you, and not tell lies?" said Edward. 

The lad thought a little while, and then nodded his head in theaffirmative. 

"Well, Pablo, we will try you, and if you are a good lad we will doall we can to make you happy, " said Edward; "but if you behave ill weshall be obliged to turn you out of doors: do you understand?"

"Be as good as I can, " replied Pablo; and here the conversation endedfor the present. 

Pablo was a very short-built lad, of apparently fifteen or sixteenyears of age, very dark in complexion, but very handsome in features, with beautiful white teeth and large dark eyes; and there wascertainly something in his intelligent countenance which recommendedhim, independent of his claim to their kindness from his having beenleft thus friendless in consequence of his misadventure. Humphrey wasparticularly pleased with and interested about him, as the lad had sonearly lost his life through his means. 

"I really think, Edward, " said Humphrey, as they were standing outsideof the door of the cottage, "that the lad may be very useful to us, and I sincerely hope that he may prove honest and true. We must firstget him into health and spirits, and then I will see what he can do. "

"The fact is, my dear Humphrey, we can do no otherwise; he isseparated from his friends, and does not know where to go. It would beinhuman, as we have been the cause of his misfortune, to turn himaway; but although I feel this, I do not feel much security as to hisgood behavior and being very useful. I have always been told thatthese gipsies were vagrants, who lived by stealing all they could laytheir hands upon; and, if he has been brought up in that way, I fearthat he will not easily be reformed. However, we can but try, and hopefor the best. "

"What you say is very just, Edward; at the same time there is anhonest look about this lad, although he is a gipsy, that makes me puta sort of confidence in him. Admitting that he has been taught to dowrong, do you not think that when told the contrary he may bepersuaded to do right?"

"It is not impossible, certainly, " replied Edward; "but, Humphrey, beon the safe side, and do not trust him too far until you know more ofhim. "

"That I most certainly will not, " replied Humphrey. "When do youpurpose going over to the keepers cottage, Edward?"

"In a day or two; but I am not exactly in a humor now to be very civilto the Roundheads, although the one I have promised to visit is alady, and a very amiable, pretty little girl in the bargain. "

"Why, Edward, what has made you feel more opposed to them than usual?"

"In the first place, Humphrey, the murder of the king--for it wasmurder and nothing better--I can not get that out of my head; andyesterday I obtained what I consider as almost a gift from Heaven, andif it is so it was not given but with the intention that I should makeuse of it. "

"And what was that, Edward?"

"Our gallant father's sword, which he drew so nobly and so well indefense of his sovereign, Humphrey, and which I trust his son may oneday wield with equal distinction, and, it may be, better fortune. Comein with me, and I will show it to you. "

Edward and Humphrey went into the bedroom, and Edward brought out thesword, which he had placed by his side on the bed. 

"See, Humphrey, this was our father's sword; and, " continued Edward, kissing the weapon, "I trust I may be permitted to draw it to revengehis death, and the death of one whose life ever should have beensacred. "

"I trust that you will, my dear brother, " replied Humphrey; "you willhave a strong arm and a good cause. Heaven grant that both mayprosper! But tell me how you came by it. "

Edward then related all that had passed during his visit with Oswaldto Lymington, not forgetting to tell him of Benjamin's appearance, andthe arrangements he had made relative to the sale of the venison. 

As soon as dinner was over, Edward and Humphrey took down their guns, having agreed that they would go and hunt the wild cattle. 

"Humphrey, have you any idea where the herd of cattle are feeding atthis time?"

"I know where they were feeding yesterday and the day before, and I donot think that they will have changed their ground, for the grass isyet very young and only grown on the southern aspects. Depend upon itwe shall fall in with them not four miles from where we now are, ifnot nearer. "

"We must stalk them as we do the deer, must we not? They won't allowus to approach within shot, Humphrey, will they?" said Edward. 

"We have to take our chance, Edward; they will allow us to advancewithin shot, but the bulls will then advance upon us, while the herdincrease their distance. On the other hand, if we stalk them, we maykill one, and then the report of the gun will frighten the othersaway. In the first instance there is a risk; in the second there isnone, but there is more fatigue and trouble. Choose as you please; Iwill act as you decide. "

"Well, Humphrey, since you give me the choice, I think that this timeI shall take the bull by the horns, as the saying is; that is, ifthere are any trees near us, for if the herd are in an open place Iwould not run such a risk; but if we can fire upon them and fall backupon a tree in case of a bull charging, I will take them openly. "

"With all my heart, Edward; I think it will be very hard if, with ourtwo guns and Smoker to back us, we do not manage to be masters of thefield. However, we must survey well before we make our approach; andif we can get within shot without alarming or irritating them, we, ofcourse, will do so. "

"The bulls are very savage at this spring time, " observed Edward. 

"They are so at all times, as far as I can see of them, " repliedHumphrey; "but we are near to them now, I should think--yes, there isthe herd. "

"There they are, sure enough, " replied Edward; "now we have not to dowith deer, and need not to be so very cautious; but still the animalsare wary, and keep a sharp look-out. We must approach them quietly, byslipping from tree to tree. Smoker, to heel!--down---quiet, Smoker!--good dog!"

Edward and Humphrey stopped to load their guns, and then approachedthe herd in manner which had been proposed, and were very soon withintwo hundred yards of the cattle, behind a large oak, when they stoppedto reconnoiter. The herd contained about seventy head of cattle, ofvarious sizes and ages. They were feeding in all directions, scattered, as the young grass was very short; but although the herdwas spread over many acres of land, Edward pointed out to Humphreythat all the full-grown large bulls were on the outside, as if readyto defend the others in case of attack. 

"Humphrey, " said Edward, "one thing is clear--as the herd is placed atpresent, we must have a bull or nothing. It is impossible to getwithin shot of the others without passing a bull, and depend upon it, our passage will be disputed; and moreover the herd will take toflight, and we shall get nothing at all. "

"Well, " replied Humphrey, "beef is beef; and, as they say, beggarsmust not be choosers, so let it be a bull if it must be so. "

"Let us get nearer to them, and then we will decide what we shall do. Steady, Smoker!"

They advanced gradually, hiding from tree to tree, until they werewithin eighty yards of one of the bulls. The animal did not perceivethem, and as they were now within range, they again stepped behind thetree to consult. 

"Now, Edward, I think that it would be best to separate. You can firefrom where we are, and I will crawl through the fern, and get behindanother tree. "

"Very well, do so, " replied Edward: "if you can manage, get to thattree with the low branches, and then perhaps you will be within shotof the white bull, which is coming down in this direction. Smoker, liedown! He can not go with you, Humphrey; it will not be safe. "

The distance of the tree which Humphrey ventured to get to was oneabout one hundred and fifty yards from where Edward was standing. Humphrey crawled along for some time in the fern, but at last he cameto a bare spot of about ten yards wide, which they were not aware of, and where he could not be concealed. Humphrey hesitated, and at lastdecided upon attempting to cross it. Edward, who was one momentwatching the motions of Humphrey, and at another that of the twoanimals nearest to them, perceived that the white bull farthest fromhim, but nearest to Humphrey, threw its head in the air, pawed withhis foot, and then advanced with a roar to where Humphrey was on theground, still crawling toward the tree, having passed the open spot, and being now not many yards from the tree. Perceiving the danger thathis brother was in, and that, moreover, Humphrey himself was not awareof it, he hardly knew how to act. The bull was too far from him tofire at it with any chance of success; and how to let Humphrey knowthat the animal had discovered him and was making toward him, withoutcalling out, he did not know. All this was the thought of a moment, and then Edward determined to fire at the bull nearest to him, whichhe had promised not to do till Humphrey was also ready to fire, andafter firing to call to Humphrey. He therefore, for one moment, turnedaway from his brother, and, taking aim at the bull, fired his gun; butprobably from his nerves being a little shaken at the idea of Humphreybeing in danger, the wound was not mortal, and the bull galloped backto the herd, which formed a closed phalanx about a quarter of a miledistant. Edward then turned to where his brother was, and perceivedthat the bull had not made off with the rest of the cattle, but waswithin thirty yards of Humphrey, and advancing upon him, and thatHumphrey was standing up beside the tree with his gun ready to file. Humphrey fired, and, as it appeared, he also missed his aim; theanimal made at him; but Humphrey, with great quickness, dropped hisgun, and, swinging by the lower boughs, was into the tree, and out ofthe bull's reach in a moment. Edward smiled when he perceived thatHumphrey was safe; but still he was a prisoner, for the bull wentround and round the tree roaring and looking up at Humphrey. Edwardthought a minute, then loaded his gun, and ordered Smoker to run in tothe bull. The dog, who had only been restrained by Edward's keepinghim down at his feet, sprung forward to the attack. Edward hadintended, by calling to the dog, to induce the bull to follow it tillwithin gun-shot; but before the bull had been attacked, Edwardobserved that one or two more of the bulls had left the herd, and werecoming at a rapid pace toward him. Under these circumstances, Edwardperceived that his only chance was to climb into a tree himself, whichhe did, taking good care to take his gun and ammunition with him. Having safely fixed himself in a forked bough, Edward then surveyedthe position of the parties. There was Humphrey in the tree, withouthis gun. The bull who had pursued Humphrey was now running at Smoker, who appeared to be aware that he was to decoy the bull toward Edward, for he kept retreating toward him. In the mean time, the two otherbulls were quite close at hand, mingling their bellowing and roaringwith the first; and one of them as near to Edward as the first bull, which was engaged with Smoker. At last, one of the advancing bullsstood still, pawing the ground as if disappointed at not finding anenemy, not forty yards from where Edward was perched. Edward took goodaim, and when he fired the bull fell dead. Edward was reloading hispiece when he heard a howl, and looking round, saw Smoker flying up inthe air, having been tossed by the first bull; and at the same time heobserved that Humphrey had descended from the tree, recovered his gun, and was now safe again upon the lower bough. 

The first bull was advancing again to attack Smoker, who appearedincapable of getting away, so much was he injured by the fall, whenthe other bull, who apparently must have been an old antagonist of thefirst, roared and attacked him; and now the two boys were up in thetree, the two bulls fighting between them, and Smoker lying on theground, panting and exhausted. As the bulls, with locked horns, werefuriously pressing each other, both guns were discharged, and bothanimals fell. After waiting a little while to see if they rose again, or if any more of the herd came up, Edward and Humphrey descended fromthe trees and heartily shook hands. 

CHAPTER XII. 

"A narrow escape, Humphrey!" said Edward as he held his brother'shand. 

"Yes, indeed, we may thank Heaven for our preservation, " repliedHumphrey; "and poor Smoker! let us see if he is much hurt. "

"I trust not, " said Edward, going up to the dog, who remained quitestill on the ground, with his tongue out, and panting violently. 

They examined poor Smoker all over very carefully, and found thatthere was no external wound; but on Edward pressing his side, theanimal gave a low howl. 

"It is there where the horn of the bull took him, " observed Humphrey. 

"Yes, " said Edward, pressing and feeling softly: "and he has two ofhis ribs broken. Humphrey, see if you can get him a little water, thatwill recover him more than any thing else; the bull has knocked thebreath out of his body. I think he will soon be well again, poorfellow. "

Humphrey soon returned with some water from a neighboring pool. Hebrought it in his hat and gave it to the dog, who lapped it slowly atfirst, but afterward much faster, and wagging his tail. 

"He will do now, " said Edward; "we must give him time to recoverhimself. Now then, let us examine our quarry. Why, Humphrey, what aquantity of meat we have here! It will take three journeys toLymington at least. "

"Yes, and no time to lose, for the weather is getting warm already, Edward. Now what to do? Will you remain while I go home for the cart?"

"Yes, it's no use both going; I will stay here and watch poor Smoker, and take off the skins ready by the time you are back again. Leave meyour knife as well as my own, for one will soon be blunt. "

Humphrey gave his knife to Edward, and taking up his gun, set off forthe cottage. Edward had skinned two of the bulls before Humphrey'sreturn; and Smoker, although he evidently was in great pain, was onhis legs again. As soon as they had finished and quartered the beasts, the cart was loaded and they returned home; they had to return asecond time, and both the pony and they were very tired before theysat down to supper They found the gipsy boy very much recovered and ingood spirits. Alice said that he had been amusing Edith and her bytossing up three potatoes at a time, and playing them like balls; andthat he has spun a platter upon an iron skewer and balanced it on hischin. They gave him some supper, which he ate in the chimney corner, looking up and staring every now and then at Edith, to whom heappeared very much attached already. 

"Is it good?" said Humphrey to the boy, giving him another venisonsteak. 

"Yes; not have so good supper in pithole, " replied Pablo, laughing. 

Early on the following morning, Edward and Humphrey set off toLymington with the cart laden with meat. Edward showed Humphrey allthe shops and the streets they were in where the purchases were to bemade--introduced him to the landlord of the hostelry--and having soldtheir meat, they returned home. The rest of the meat was taken toLymington and disposed of by Humphrey on the following day; and theday after that the three skins were carried to the town and disposedof. 

"We made a good day's work, Edward, " said Humphrey, as he reckoned upthe money they had made. 

"We earned it with some risk, at all events, " replied Edward; "andnow, Humphrey, I think it is time that I keep my promise to Oswald, and go over to the intendant's house, and pay my visit to the younglady, as I presume she is--and certainly she has every appearance ofbeing one. I want the visit to be over, as I want to be doing. "

"How do you mean, Edward?"

"I mean that I want to go out and kill some deer, but I will not do ittill after I have seen her: when I shall have acquitted myself of myvisit, I intend to defy the intendant and all his verderers. "

"But why should this visit prevent you going out this very day, if soinclined?"

"I don't know, but she may ask me if I have done so, and I do not wantto tell her that I have; neither do I want to say that I have not, ifI have; and therefore I shall not commence till after I have seenher. "

"When will you set off?"

"To-morrow morning; and I shall take my gun, although Oswald desiredme not; but after the fight we had with the wild cattle the other day, I don't think it prudent to be unarmed; indeed, I do not feelcomfortable without I have my gun, at any time. "

"Well, I shall have plenty to do when you are away--the, potatoes mustbe hoed up, and I shall see what I can make of Master Pablo. Heappears well enough, and he has played quite long enough, so I shalltake him with me to the garden to-morrow, and set him to work. What aquantity of fruit there is a promise of in the orchard this year! AndEdward, if this boy turns out of any use, and is a help to me, I thinkthat I shall take all the orchard into garden, and then incloseanother piece of ground, and see if we can not grow some corn forourselves. It is the greatest expense that we have at present, and Ishould like to take my own corn to the mill to be ground. "

"But will not growing corn require plow and horses?" said Edward. 

"No; we will try it by hand: two of us can dig a great deal at oddtimes, and we shall have a better crop with the spade than with theplow. We have now so much manure that we can afford it. "

"Well, if it is to be done, it should be done at once, Humphrey, before the people from the other side of the forest come and find usout, or they will dispute our right to the inclosure. "

"The forest belongs to the king, brother, and not to the Parliament;and we are the king's liege men, and only look to him for permission, "replied Humphrey; "but what you say is true: the sooner it is done thebetter, and I will about it at once. "

"How much do you propose fencing in?"

"About two or three acres. "

"But that is more than you can dig this year or the next. "

"I know that; but I will manure it without digging, and the grass willgrow so rich to what it will outside of the inclosure. That they willsuppose it has been inclosed a long while. "

"That's not a bad idea, Humphrey; but I advise you to look well afterthat boy, for he is of a bad race, and has not been brought up, I amafraid, with too strict notions of honesty. Be careful, and tell yoursisters also to be cautious not to let him suppose that we have anymoney in the old chest, till we find out whether he is to be trustedor not. "

"Better not let him know it under any circumstances, " repliedHumphrey; "he may continue honest, if not tempted by the knowledgethat there is any thing worth stealing. "

"You are right, Humphrey. Well, I will be off to-morrow morning andget this visit over. I hope to be able to get all the news from her, now that her father is away. 

"I hope to get some work out of this Pablo, " replied Humphrey; "howmany things I could do, if he would only work! Now, I'll tell you onething--I will dig a sawpit and get a saw, and then I can cut outboards and build any thing we want. The first time I go to Lymington Iwill buy a saw--I can afford it now; and I'll make a carpenter's benchfor the first thing, and then, with some more tools, I shall get on;and then, Edward, I'll tell you what else I will do. "

"Then, Humphrey, " replied Edward, laughing, "you must tell me someother time, for it is now very late, and I must go to bed, as I haveto rise early. I know you have so many projects in your mind that itwould take half the night to listen to them. "

"Well, I believe what you say is true, " replied Humphrey, "and it willbe better to do one thing at a time than to talk about doing ahundred; so we will, as you say, to bed. "

At sunrise, Edward and Humphrey were both up; Alice came out when theytapped at her door, as she would not let Edward go without hisbreakfast. Edith joined them, and they went to prayers. While theywere so employed, Pablo came out and listened to what was said. Whenprayers were over, Humphrey asked Pablo if he knew what they had beendoing. 

"No, not much; suppose you pray sun to shine. "

"No, Pablo, " said Edith, "pray to God to make us good. "

"You bad then?" said Pablo; "me not bad. "

"Yes, Pablo, every body very bad, " said Alice; "but if we try to begood, God forgives us. "

The conversation was then dropped, and as soon as Edward had made hisbreakfast, he kissed his sisters, and wished Humphrey farewell. 

Edward threw his gun over his arm, and calling his puppy, which he hadnamed Holdfast, bade Humphrey and his sisters farewell, and set off onhis journey across the forest. 

Holdfast, as well as Humphrey's puppy, which had been named Watch, hadgrown very fine young animals. The first had been named Holdfast, because it would seize the pigs by the ears and lead them into thesty, and the other because it was so alert at the least noise; but, asHumphrey said, Watch ought to have learned to lead the pigs, it beingmore in his line of business than Holdfast's, which was to be broughtup for hunting in the forest, while Watch was being educated as ahouse and farmyard dog. 

Edward had refused to take the pony, as Humphrey required it for thefarm-work, and the weather was so fine that he preferred walking; themore so, as it would enable him on his return across the forest to tryfor some venison, which he could not have done if he had been mountedon Billy's back. Edward walked quick, followed by his dog, which hehad taught to keep to heel. He felt happy, as people do who have nocares, from the fine weather--the deep green of the verdure checkeredby the flowers in bloom, and the majestic scenery which met his eye onevery side. His heart was as buoyant as his steps, as he walked along, the light summer breeze fanning his face. His thoughts, however, whichhad been more of the chase than any thing else, suddenly changed, andhe became serious. For some time he had heard no political news ofconsequence, or what the Commons were doing with the king. This reverynaturally brought to his mind his father's death, the burning of hisproperty, and its sequestration. His cheeks colored with indignation, and his brow was moody. Then he built castles for the future. Heimagined the king released from his prison, and leading an armyagainst his oppressors; he fancied himself at the head of a troop ofcavalry, charging the Parliamentary horse. Victory was on his side. The king was again on his throne, and he was again in possession ofthe family estate. He was rebuilding the hall, and somehow or anotherit appeared to him that Patience was standing by his side, as he gavedirections to the artificers, when his revery was suddenly disturbedby Holdfast barking and springing forward in advance. 

Edward, who had by this time got over more than half his journey, looked up, and perceived himself confronted by a powerful man, apparently about forty years of age, and dressed as a verderer of theforest. He thought at the time that he had seldom seen a person with amore sinister and forbidding countenance. 

"How now, young fellow, what are you doing here?" said the man, walking up to him and cocking the gun which he held in hand as headvanced. 

Edward quietly cocked his own gun, which was loaded, when he perceivedthat hostile preparation on the part of the other person, and thenreplied, "I am walking across the forest, as you may perceive. "

"Yes, I perceive you are walking, and you are walking with a dog and agun: you will now be pleased to walk with me. Deer-stealers are notany longer permitted to range this forest. "

"I am no deer-stealer, " replied Edward. "It will be quite sufficientto give me that title when you find me with venison in my possession;and as for going with you, that I certainly shall not. Sheer off, oryou may meet with harm. "

"Why, you young good-for-nothing, if you have not venison, it is notfrom any will not to take it; you are out in pursuit of it, that isclear. Come, come, you've the wrong person to deal with; my orders areto take up all poachers, and take you I will. "

"If you can, " replied Edward; "but you must first prove that you areable so to do; my gun is as good and my aim is as sure as yours, whoever you may be. I tell you again, I am no poacher, nor have I comeout to take the deer, but to cross over to the intendant's cottage, whither I am now going. I tell you thus much, that you may not do anything foolish; and having said this, I advise you to think twicebefore you act once. Let me proceed in peace, or you may lose yourplace, if you do not, by your own rashness, lose your life. "

There was something so cool and so determined in Edward's quietmanner, that the verderer hesitated. He perceived that any attempt totake Edward would be at the risk of his own life; and he knew that hisorders were to apprehend all poachers, but not to shoot people. It wastrue, that resistance with firearms would warrant his acting in self-defense; but admitting that be should succeed, which was doubtful, still Edward had not been caught in the act of killing venison, and hehad no witnesses to prove what had occurred. He also knew that theintendant had given very strict orders as to the shedding of blood, which he was most averse to, under any circumstances; and there wassomething in Edward's appearance and manner so different from a commonperson, that he was puzzled. Moreover, Edward had stated that he wasgoing to the intendant's house. All things considered, as he foundthat bullying would not succeed, he thought it advisable to change histone, and therefore said, "You tell me that you are going to theintendant's house; you have business there, I presume? If I took youprisoner, it is there I should have conducted you, so, young man, youmay now walk on before me. "

"I thank you, " replied Edward, "but walk on before you I will not: butif you choose to half-cock your gun again, and walk by my side, I willdo the same. Those are my terms, and I will listen to no other; so bepleased to make up your mind, as I am in haste. "

The verderer appeared very indignant at this reply, but after a timesaid, "Be it so. "

Edward then uncocked his gun, with his eyes fixed upon the man, andthe verderer did the same: and then they walked side by side, Edwardkeeping at the distance of three yards from him, in case of treachery. 

After a few moments' silence, the verderer said, "You tell me you aregoing to the intendant's house; he is not at home. "

"But young Mistress Patience is, I presume, " said Edward. 

"Yes, " replied the man, who, finding that Edward appeared to know somuch about the intendant's family, began to be more civil. "Yes, sheis at home, for I saw her in the garden this morning. "

"And Oswald, is he at home?" rejoined Edward. 

"Yes, he is. You appear to know our people, young man; who may you be, if it is a fair question?"

"It would have been a fair question had you treated me fairly, "replied Edward; "but as it is no concern of yours, I shall leave youto find it out. "

This reply puzzled the man still more; and he now, from the tone ofauthority assumed by Edward, began to imagine that he had made somemistake, and that he was speaking to a superior, although clad in aforester's dress. He therefore answered humbly, observing that he hadonly been doing his duty. 

Edward walked on without making any reply. 

As they arrived within a hundred yards of the intendant's house Edwardsaid--

"I have now arrived at my destination, and am going into that house, as I told you. Do you choose to enter it with me, or will you go toOswald Partridge and tell him that you have met with Edward Armitagein the forest, and that I should be glad to see him? I believe you areunder his orders, are you not?"

"Yes I am" replied the verderer, "and as I suppose that all's right, Ishall go and deliver your message. "

Edward then turned away from the man, and went into the wicket-gate ofthe garden, and knocked at the door of the House. The door was openedby Patience Heatherstone herself, who said, "Oh, how glad I am to seeyou! Come in. " Edward took off his hat and bowed. Patience led the wayinto her father's study, where Edward had been first received. 

"And now, " said Patience, extending her hand to Edward, "thanks, manythanks, for your preserving me from so dreadful a death. You don'tknow how unhappy I have been at not being able to give you my poorthanks for your courageous behavior. "

Her hand still remained in Edward's while she said this. 

"You rate what I did too highly, " replied Edward; "I would have donethe same for any one in such distress: it was my duty as a--man, "Cavalier he was about to say, but he checked himself. 

"Sit down, " said Patience, taking a chair; "nay, no ceremony; I cannot treat as an inferior one to whom I owe such a debt of gratitude. "

Edward smiled as he took his seat. 

"My father is as grateful to you as I am--I'm sure that he is--for Iheard him, when at prayer, call down blessings on your head. What canhe do for you? I begged Oswald Partridge to bring you here that Imight find out. Oh, sir, do, pray, let me know how we can show ourgratitude by something more than words. "

"You have shown it already, Mistress Patience, " replied Edward; "haveyou not honored a poor forester with your hand in friendship, and evenadmitted him to sit down before you?"

"He who has preserved my life at the risk of his own becomes to me asa brother--at least I feel as a sister toward him: a debt is still adebt, whether indebted to a king or to a--"

"Forester, Mistress Patience; that is the real word that you shouldnot have hesitated to have used. Do you imagine that I am ashamed ofmy calling?"

"To tell you candidly the truth, then, " replied Patience: "I can notbelieve that you are what you profess to be. I mean to say that, although a forester now, you were never brought up as such. My fatherhas an opinion allied to mine. "

"I thank you both for your good opinion of me, but I fear that I cannot raise myself above the condition of a forester; nay, from yourfather's coming down here, and the new regulations, I have everychance of sinking down to the lower grade of a deer-stealer andpoacher; indeed, had it not been that I had my gun with me, I shouldhave been seized as such this very day as I came over. "

"But you were not shooting the deer, were you, sir?" inquiredPatience. 

"No, I was not; nor have I killed any since last I saw you. "

"I am glad that I can say that to my father, " replied Patience; "itwill much please him. He said to me that he thought you capable ofmuch higher employment than any that could be offered here, and onlywished to know what you would accept. He has interest--great interest--although just now at variance with the rulers of this country, onaccount of the--"

"Murder of the king, you would or you should have said, MistressPatience. I have heard how much he was opposed to that foul deed, andI honor him for it. "

"How kind, how truly kind you are to say so!" said Patience, the tearsstarting in her eyes; "what pleasure to hear my father's conductpraised by you!"

"Why, of course, Mistress Patience, all of my way of thinking mustpraise him. Your father is in London, I hear?"

"Yes, he is; and that reminds me that you must want some refreshmentafter your walk. I will call Phoebe. " So saying, Patience left theroom. 

The fact was, Mistress Patience was reminded that she had been sittingwith a young man some time, and alone with him--which was not quiteproper in those times; and when Phoebe appeared with the cold viands, she retreated out of hearing, but remained in the room. 

Edward partook of the meal offered him in silence, Patience occupyingherself with her work, and keeping her eyes fixed on it, unless whenshe gave a slight glance at the table to see if any thing wasrequired. When the meal was over, Phoebe removed the tray, and thenEdward rose to take his leave. 

"Nay, do not go yet--I have much to say first; let me again ask youhow we can serve you. "

"I never can take any office under the present rulers of the nation, so that question is at rest. "

"I was afraid that you would answer so, " replied Patience, gravely:"do not think I blame you; for many are there already who would gladlyretrace their steps if it were possible. They little thought, whenthey opposed the king, that affairs would have ended as they havedone. Where do you live, sir?"

"At the opposite side of the forest, in a house belonging to me now, but which was inherited by my grandfather. "

"Do you live alone--surely not?"

"No, I do not. "

"Nay, you may tell me any thing, for I would never repeat what mighthurt you, or you might not wish to have known. "

"I live with my brother and two sisters, for my grandfather is latelydead. "

"Is your brother younger than you are?"

"He is. "

"And your sisters, what are their ages?"

"They are younger still. "

"You told my father that you lived upon your farm?"

"We do. "

"Is it a large farm?"

"No; very small. "

"And does that support you?"

"That and killing wild cattle has lately. "

"Yes, and killing deer also, until lately?"

"You have guessed right. "

"You were brought up at Arnwood, you told my father; did you not?"

"Yes, I was brought up there, and remained there until the death ofColonel Beverley. "

"And you were educated, were you not?"

"Yes; the chaplain taught me what little I do know. "

"Then, if you were brought up in the house and educated by thechaplain, surely Colonel Beverley never intended you for a forester?"

"He did not; I was to have been a soldier as soon as I was old enoughto bear arms. "

"Perhaps you are distantly related to the late Colonel Beverley. "

"No; I am not _distantly_ related, " replied Edward, who began tofeel uneasy at this close cross-examination; "but still, had ColonelBeverley been alive, and the king still required his services, I haveno doubt that I should have been serving under him at this time. Andnow, Mistress Patience, that I have answered so many questions ofyours, may I be permitted to ask a little about yourself in return?Have you any brothers?"

"None; I am an only child. "

"Have you only one parent alive?"

"Only one. "

"What families are you connected with?"

Patience looked up with surprise at this last question. 

"My mother's name was Cooper; she was sister to Sir Anthony AshleyCooper, who is a person well known. "

"Indeed! then you are of gentle blood?"

"I believe so, " replied Patience, with surprise. 

"Thank you for your condescension, Mistress Patience; and now, if youwill permit me, I will take my leave. "

"Before you go, let me once more thank you for saving a worthlesslife, " said Patience. "Well, you must come again, when my father ishere; he will be but too glad to have an opportunity of thanking onewho has preserved his only child. Indeed, if you knew my father, youwould feel as much regard for him as I do. He is very good, althoughhe looks so stern and melancholy; but he has seldom smiled since mypoor mother's death. "

"As to your father, Mistress Patience, " I will think as well as I canof one who is joined to a party which I hold in detestation; I can sayno more. "

"I must not say all that I know, or you would, perhaps, find out thathe is not quite so wedded to that party as you suppose. Neither hisbrother-in-law nor he are great friends of Cromwell's, I can assureyou; but this is in confidence. "

"That raises him in my estimation; but why then does he hold office?"

"He did not ask it; it was given to him, I really believe, becausethey wished him out of the way; and he accepted it because he wasopposed to what was going on, and wished himself to be away. At leastI infer so much from what I have learned. It is not an office of poweror trust which leagues him with the present government. "

"No; only one which opposes him to me and my malpractices, " repliedEdward, laughing. "Well, Mistress Patience, you have shown greatcondescension to a poor forester, and I return you many thanks foryour kindness toward me: I will now take my leave. "

"And when will you come and see my father?"

"I can not say; I fear that I shall not be able very soon to look inhis injured face, and it will not be well for a poacher to come nearhim, " replied Edward: "however, some day I may be taken and broughtbefore you as a prisoner, you know, and then he is certain to see me. "

"I will not tell you to kill deer, " replied Patience; "but if you dokill them no one shall harm you--or I know little of my power or myfather's. Farewell then, sir, and once more gratitude and thanks. "

Patience held out her hand again to Edward, who this time, like a trueCavalier, raised it respectfully to his lips. Patience colored alittle, but did not attempt to withdraw it, and Edward, with a lowobeisance, quitted the room. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

As soon as he was out of the intendant's house, Edward hastened to thecottage of Oswald Partridge, whom he found waiting for him, for theverderer had not failed to deliver his message. 

"You have had a long talk with Mistress Patience, " said Oswald, afterthe first greeting, "and I am glad of it, as it gives you consequencehere. The Roundhead rascal whom you met was inclined, to be veryprecise about doing his duty, and insisted that he was certain thatyou were on the look-out for deer; but I stopped his mouth by tellinghim that I often took you out with me, as you were the best shot inthe whole forest, and that the intendant knew that I did so. I thinkthat if you were caught in the act of killing a deer, you had bettertell, them that you killed it by my request, and I will bear you outif they bring you to the intendant, who will, I'm sure, thank me forsaying so; you might kill all the deer in the forest, after what youhave done for him. "

"Many thanks; but I do not think I can take advantage of your offer. Let them catch me if they can, and if they do catch me, let them takeme if they can. "

"I see, sir, that you will accept no favor from the Roundheads, "replied Oswald. "However, as I am now head keeper, I shall take carethat my men do not interfere with you, if I can help it; all I wish isto prevent any insult or indignity being offered to you, they notbeing aware who you are, as I am. "

"Many thanks, Oswald; I must take my chance. "

Edward then told Oswald of their having taken the gipsy boy in thepit, at which he appeared much amused. 

"What is the name of the verderer whom I met in the forest?" inquiredEdward. 

"James Corbould; he was discharged from the army, " replied Oswald. 

"I do not like his appearance, " said Edward. 

"No; his face tells against him, " replied Oswald; "but I know nothingof him; he has been here little more than a fortnight. "

"Can you give me a corner to put my head in to-night, Oswald? for Ishall not start till to-morrow morning. "

"You may command all I have, sir, " replied Oswald; "but I fear thereis little more than a hearty welcome; I have no doubt that you couldbe lodged at the intendant's house if you choose. "

"No, Oswald, the young lady is alone, and I will not trust to Phoebe'saccommodation again; I will stay here, if you will permit me. "

"And welcome, sir; I will put your puppy in the kennel at once. "

Edward remained that night at Oswald's, and at daylight he rose, andhaving taken a slight breakfast, throwing his gun over his shoulder, went to the kennel for Holdfast, and set off on his return home. 

"That's a very nice little girl, " were the words which Edward foundhimself constantly saying to himself as he walked along; "and she isof a grateful disposition, or she would not have behaved as she hasdone toward me--supposing me to be of mean birth;" and then he thoughtof what she had told him relative to her father, and Edward felt hisanimosity against a Roundhead wasting fast away. "I am not likely tosee her again very soon, " thought Edward, "unless, indeed, I ambrought to the intendant as a prisoner. " Thus thinking upon, onesubject or another, Edward had gained above eight miles of his journeyacross the forest, when he thought that he was sufficiently far awayto venture to look out for some venison. Remembering there was athicket not far from him in which there was a clear pool of water, Edward thought it very likely that he might find a stag there coolinghimself, for the weather was now very warm at noonday. He thereforecalled Holdfast to him, and proceeded cautiously toward the thicket. As soon as he arrived at the spot, he crouched and crept silentlythrough the underwood. At last he arrived close to the cleared spot bythe pool. There was no stag there, but fast asleep upon the turf layJames Corbould, the sinister-looking verderer who had accosted him inthe forest on the previous day. Holdfast was about to bark, whenEdward silenced him, and then advanced to where the verderer waslying; and who, having no dog with him to give notice of Edward'sapproach, still remained snoring with the sun shining on his face. Edward perceived that his gun was under him on the grass, he took itup, gently opened the pan and scattered the powder, and then laid itdown again--for Edward said to himself, "That man has come out afterme, that I am certain; and as there are no witnesses, he may beinclined to be mischievous, for a more wretched-looking person I neversaw. Had he been deer-hunting, he would have brought his dog; but heis man-hunting, that is evident. Now I will leave him, and should hefall in with anything, he will not kill at first shot, that's certain;and if he follows me, I shall have the same chance of escape asanything else he may fire at. " Edward then walked out of the covert, thinking that if ever there was a face which proclaimed a man to be amurderer, it was that of James Corbould. As he was threading his way, he heard the howl of a dog, and on looking round, perceived thatHoldfast was not with him. He turned back, and Holdfast came runningto him--the fact was, that Holdfast had smelled some meat in thepocket of the verderer, and had been putting his nose in to ascertainwhat it was: in so doing, he had wakened up Corbould, who had salutedhim with a heavy blow on the head: this occasioned the puppy to givethe howl, and also occasioned Corbould to seize his gun, and followstealthily in the track of the dog, which he well knew to be the onehe had seen the day before with Edward. 

Edward waited for a short time, and not perceiving that Corbould madehis appearance, continued on his way home, having now given up allthoughts of killing any venison. He walked fast, and was within sixmiles of the cottage, when he stopped to drink at a small rill ofwater, and then sat down to rest himself for a short time. While sodoing, he fell into one of his usual reveries, and forgot how timepassed away. He was, however, aroused by a low growl on the part ofHoldfast, and it immediately occurred to him that Corbould must havefollowed him. Thinking it as well to be prepared, he quietly loadedhis gun, and then rose up to reconnoiter. Holdfast sprung forward, andEdward, looking in the direction, perceived Corbould partly hiddenbehind a tree, with his gun leveled at him. He heard the triggerpulled, and snap of the lock, but the gun did not go off; and thenCorbould made his appearance, striking at Holdfast with the butt-endof his gun. Edward advanced to him and desired him to desist, or itwould be the worse for him. 

"Indeed, younker! it may be the worse for you, " cried Corbould. 

"It might have been if your gun had gone off, " replied Edward. 

I did not aim at you. I aimed at the dog, and I will kill the brute ifI can. "

"Not without danger to yourself; but it was not him that you aimed at--your gun was not pointed low enough to hit the dog--it was leveledat me, you sneaking wretch; and I have only to thank my own prudenceand your sleepy head for having escaped with my life. I tell youcandidly, that I threw the powder out of your pan while you wereasleep. If I served you as you deserve, I should now put my bulletinto you; but I can not kill a man who is defenseless--and that savesyour life; but set off as fast as you can away from me, for if youfollow me I will show no more forbearance. Away with you directly, "continued Edward, raising his gun to his shoulder and pointing it atCorbould; "if you do not be off, I'll fire. "

Corbould saw that Edward was resolute, and thought proper to complywith his request: he walked away till he considered himself out ofgunshot, and then commenced a torrent of oaths and abusive language, with which we shall not offend our readers. Before he went farther, heswore that he would have Edward's life before many days had passed, and then shaking his fist, he went away. Edward remained where he wasstanding till the man was fairly out of sight, and then proceeded onhis journey. It was now about four o'clock in the afternoon, andEdward, as he walked on, said to himself, "That man must be of a verywicked disposition, for I have offended him in nothing except in notsubmitting to be made his prisoner; and is that an offense to take aman's life for? He is a dangerous man, and will be more dangerousafter being again foiled by me as he has been to-day. I doubt if hewill go home; I am almost sure that he will turn and follow me when hethinks that he can without my seeing him; and if he does, he will findout where our cottage is--and who knows what mischief he may not do, and how he may alarm my little sisters? I'll not go home till dark;and I'll now walk in another direction, that I may mislead him. "Edward then walked away more to the north, and every half hour shiftedhis course so as to be walking in a very different direction fromwhere the cottage stood. In the mean time it grew gradually dark; andas it became so, every now and then when Edward passed a large tree, he turned round behind it and looked to see if Corbould was followinghim. At last, just as it was dark, he perceived the figure of a man atno great distance from him, who was following him, running from treeto tree, so as to make his approach. "Oh, you are there!" thoughtEdward; "now will I give you a nice dance, and we will see whose legsare tired soonest. Let me see, where am I?" Edward looked round, andthen perceived that he was close to the clump of trees where Humphreyhad made his pitfall for the cattle, and there was a clear spot ofabout a quarter of a mile between it and where he now stood. Edwardmade up his mind, and immediately walked out to cross the clearing, calling Holdfast to heel. It was now nearly dark, for there was onlythe light of the stars, but still there was sufficient light to seehis way. As Edward crossed the cleared spot, he once looked round andperceived that Corbould was following him, and nearer than he wasbefore, trusting probably to the increased darkness to hide hisapproach. "That will do, " thought Edward; "come along, my finefellow. " And Edward walked on till he came to the pitfall; there hestopped and looked round, and soon discovered the verderer at ahundred yards' distance. Edward held his dog by the mouth, that heshould not growl or bark, and then went on in a direction so as tobring the pitfall exactly between Corbould and himself. Having doneso, he proceeded at a more rapid pace; and Corbould, following him, also increased his, till he arrived at the pitfall, which he could notperceive, and fell into it headlong; and as he fell into the pit, atthe same time Edward heard the discharge of his gun, the crash of thesmall branches laid over it, and a cry on the part of Corbould. "Thatwill do, " thought Edward, "now you may lie there as long as the gipsydid, and that will cool your courage. Humphrey's pitfall is full ofadventure. In this case it has done me a service. Now I may turn andgo home as fast as I can. Come Holdfast, old boy, we both want oursuppers. I can answer for one, for I could eat the whole of that pastywhich Oswald set before me this morning. " Edward walked at a rapidpace, quite delighted at the issue of the adventure. As he arrivednear to the cottage he found Humphrey outside, with Pablo, on thelook-out for him. He soon joined them, and soon after embraced Aliceand Edith, who had been anxiously waiting for his return, and who hadwondered at his being out so late. "Give me my supper, my dear girls, "said Edward, "and then you shall know all about it. "

As soon as Edward had satisfied his craving appetite--for he had not, as my readers must recollect, eaten any thing since his departureearly in the morning from the house of Oswald Partridge--he enteredinto a narrative of the events of the day. They all listened withgreat interest; and when Edward had finished, Pablo, the gipsy boy, jumped up and said, "Now he is in the pit, to-morrow morning I take gun and shoot him. "

"No, no, Pablo, you must not do that, " replied Edward, laughing. 

"Pablo, " said little Edith, "go and sit down; you must not shootpeople. "

"He shoot master then, " said Pablo; "he very bad man. "

"But if you shoot him, you will be a bad boy, Pablo, " replied Edith, who appeared to have assumed an authority over him. Pablo did notappear to understand this, but he obeyed the order of his littlemistress, and resumed his seat at the chimney corner. 

"But, Edward, " said Humphrey, "what do you propose to do?"

"I hardly know; my idea was to let him remain there for a day or two, and then send to Oswald to let him know where the fellow was. "

"The only objection to that is, " replied Humphrey, "that you say hisgun went off as he fell into the pit; it may be probable that he iswounded, and if so, he might die if he is left there. "

"You are right, Humphrey, that is possible; and I would not have thelife of a fellow-creature on my conscience. "

"I think it would be advisable, Edward, that I should set off earlyto-morrow on the pony, and see Oswald, tell him all that has occurred, and show him where the pitfall is. "

"I believe that would be the best plan, Humphrey. "

"Yes, " said Alice, "it would be dreadful that a man should die in sowicked a state; let him be taken out, and perhaps he will repent. "

"Won't God punish him, brother?" said Edith. 

"Yes, my dear; sooner or later the vengeance of Heaven overtakes thewicked. But I am very tired after so long a walk to Prayers, and thento bed. "

The danger that Edward had incurred that day was felt strongly by thewhole party; and, with the exception of Pablo there was earnestdevotion and gratitude to Heaven when their orisons were offered up. 

Humphrey was off before daybreak, and at nine o'clock had arrived atthe cottage of Oswald, by whom he was warmly greeted before the causeof his unexpected arrival was made known. Oswald was greatly annoyedat Humphrey's narration, and appeared to be very much of the opinionof Pablo, which was, to leave the scoundrel where he was; but, on theremonstrance of Humphrey, he set off, with two of the other verderers, and before nightfall Humphrey arrived at the pitfall, where they heardCorbould groaning below. 

"Who's there?" said Oswald, looking into the pit. 

"It's me, it's Corbould, " replied the man. 

"Are you hurt?"

"Yes, badly, " replied Corbould; "when I fell, my gun went off, and theball has gone through my thigh. I have almost bled to death. "

Humphrey went for the ladder, which was at hand, and, with muchexertion on the part of the whole four of them, they contrived to dragout Corbould, who groaned heavily with pain. A handkerchief was tiedtightly round his leg, to prevent any further bleeding, and they gavehim some water, which revived him. 

"Now, what's to be done?" said Oswald; "we can never get him home. "

"I will tell you, " said Humphrey, walking with him aside. "It will notdo for any of these men to know our cottage, and we can not take themthere. Desire them to remain with the man, while you go for a cart tocarry him home. We will go to the cottage, give Billy his supper, andthen return with him in the cart, and bring your men something to eat. Then I will go with you, and bring the cart back again beforedaylight. It will be a night's work, but it will be the safest plan. "

"I think so, too, " replied Oswald, who desired the men to wait tillhis return, as he was going to borrow a cart, and then set off withHumphrey. 

As soon as they arrived at the cottage, Humphrey gave the pony toPablo to put into the stable and feed, and then communicated to Edwardthe state of Corbould. 

"It's almost a pity that he had not killed himself outright. " observedOswald; "it would have been justice to him, for attempting your lifewithout any cause; he is a bloodthirsty scoundrel, and I wish he wasany where but where he is. However, the intendant shall know of it, and I have no doubt that he will be discharged. 

"Do nothing in a hurry, Oswald, " replied Edward; "at present let himgive his own version of the affair, for he may prove mote dangerouswhen discharged than when under your control. Now sit down and takeyour supper. Billy must have an hour to get his, and therefore thereis no hurry for you. "

"That is your gipsy lad, Edward, is he not?" said Oswald. 

"Yes. "

"I like the boy's looks; but they are a queer race. You must not trusthim too much, " continued Oswald, in an undertone, "until you havetried him, and are satisfied of his fidelity. They are very excitable, and capable of strong attachment if well treated. That I know, for Idid a gipsy a good turn once, and it proved to be the saving of mylife afterward. "

"Oh, tell us how, Oswald, " said Alice. 

"It is too long a story now, my dear little lady, " replied Oswald;"but I will another time. Whatever he may do, do not strike him; forthey never forgive a blow, I am told by those who know them, and itnever does them any good; as I said before, they are a queer race. "

"He will not be beaten by us, " replied Humphrey, "depend upon it, unless Edith slaps him, for she is the one who takes most pains withhim, and I presume he would not care much about her little hand. "

"No, no, " replied Oswald, laughing; "Edith may do as she pleases. Whatdoes he do for you?"

"Oh, nothing as yet, for he is hardly recovered, poor fellow, " repliedHumphrey. "He follows Edith, and helps her to look for the eggs; andlast night he set some springes after his own fashion, and certainlybeat me, for he took three rabbits and a hare, while I, with all mytraps, only took one rabbit. "

"I think you had better leave that part of your livelihood entirely tohim; he has been bred up to it, Humphrey, and it will be hisamusement. You must not expect him to work very hard; they are notaccustomed to it. They live a roving and never work if they can helpit: still, if you can make him fond of you, he may be very useful, forthey are very clever and handy. "

"I hope to make him useful, " replied Humphrey; "but still I will notforce him to do what he does not like. He is very fond of the ponyalready, and likes to take care of him. "

"Bring him over to me one of these days, so that he may know where tofind me. It may prove of consequence if you have a message to send, and can not come yourselves. "

"That is very true, " replied Edward; "I shall not forget it. Humphrey, shall you or I go with the cart?"

"Humphrey, by all means; it will not do for them to suppose I had thecart from you, Edward; they do not know Humphrey, and he will be offagain in the morning before they are up. "

"Very true, " replied Edward. 

"And it is time for us to set off, " replied Oswald. "Will MistressAlice oblige me with something for my men to eat, for they have fastedthe whole day. "

"Yes, " replied Alice; "I will have it ready before the pony is in thecart. Edith, dear, come with me. "

Humphrey then went out to harness the pony, and when all was ready, heand Oswald set off again. 

When they arrived at the pitfall, they found Corbould lying betweenthe two other verderers, who were sitting by his side. Corbould wasmuch recovered since his wound had been bound up, and he was raised upand put on the fodder which Humphrey had put into the cart; and theyproceeded on their journey to the other side of the forest, theverderers eating what Humphrey had brought for them as they walkedalong. It was a tedious and painful journey for the wounded man, whoshrieked out when the cart was jolted by the wheel getting into a rutor hole; but there was no help for it, and he was very much exhaustedwhen they arrived, which was not till past midnight. Corbould was thentaken to his cottage and put on the bed, and another verderer sent fora surgeon; those who had been with Oswald were glad to go to bed, forit had been a fatiguing day. Humphrey remained with Oswald for threehours, and then again returned with Billy, who, although he hadcrossed the forest three times in the twenty-four hours, appearedquite fresh and ready to go back again. 

"I will let you know how he gets on, Humphrey, and what account hegives of his falling into the pit; but you must not expect me for afortnight at least. "

Humphrey wished Oswald good-by; and Billy was so anxious to get backto his stable, that Humphrey could not keep him at a quiet pace. "Horses, and all animals indeed, know that there is no place likehome; it is a pity that men who consider themselves much wiser, havenot the same consideration, " thought Humphrey, as the pony trottedalong. Humphrey thought a good deal about the danger that Edward hadbeen subjected to, and said to himself, "I really think that I shouldbe more comfortable if Edward was away. I am always in a fidget abouthim. I wish the new king, who is now in France would raise an army andcome over. It is better that Edward should be fighting in the fieldthan remain here and risk being shot as a deer-stealer, or put inprison. The farm is sufficient for us all; and when I have taken inmore ground it will be much more than sufficient, even if I do notkill the wild cattle. I am fit for the farm, but Edward is not. He isthrown away, living in this obscurity, and he feels it. He will alwaysbe in hot water some way or another, that is certain. What a narrowescape he has had with that scoundrel, and yet how little he cares forit! He was intended for a soldier, that is evident; and, if ever he isone, he will be in his element, and distinguish himself, if it pleasesGod to spare his life. I'll persuade him to stay at home a littlewhile to help me to inclose the other piece of ground; and, after thatis done, I'll dig a saw-pit, and see if I can coax Pablo to saw withme. I must go to Lymington and buy a saw. If I once could get thetrees sawed up into planks, what a quantity of things I could make, and how I could improve the place!"

Thus thought Humphrey, as he went along; he was all for the farm andimprovements, and was always calculating when he should have anothercalf, or a fresh litter of pigs. His first idea was that he would makePablo work hard, but the advice he had received from Oswald was notforgotten; and he now was thinking how he should coax Pablo intostanding below in the sawpit, which was not only hard work, butdisagreeable from the sawdust falling into the eyes. Humphrey'scogitations were interrupted by a halloo, and turning round in thedirection of the voice, he perceived Edward, and turned the cart tojoin him. 

"You've just come in time, Humphrey; I have some provision for Alice'slarder. I took my gun and came on the path which I knew you wouldreturn by, and I have killed a young buck. He is good meat, and we arescarce of provisions. "

Humphrey helped Edward to put the venison in the cart, and theyreturned to the cottage, which was not more than three miles off. Humphrey told Edward the result of his journey, and then proposed thatEdward should stop at home for a few days and help him with the newinclosure. To this Edward cheerfully consented; and as soon as theyarrived at the cottage, and Humphrey had his breakfast, they tooktheir axes and went out to fell at a cluster of small spruce-fir abouta mile off. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

"Now, Humphrey, what do you propose to do?"

"This, " replied Humphrey: "I have marked out three acres or thereaboutof the land running in a straight line behind the garden. There is nota tree on it, and it is all good feeding-ground. What I intend to dois to inclose it with the spruce-fir posts and rails that we are aboutto cut down, and then set a hedge upon a low bank which I shall raiseall round inside the rails. I know where there are thousands ofseedling-thorns, which I shall take up in the winter, or early in thespring, to put in, as the bank will be ready for them by that time. "

"Well, that's all very good; but I fear it will be a long while beforeyou have such a quantity of land dug up. "

"Yes, of course it will; but, Edward, I have plenty of manure tospare, and I shall put it all over this land, and then it will becomea rich pasture, and also an earlier pasture than what we can get fromthe forest, and will be very handy to turn the cows and the calvesupon; or even Billy, if we want him in a hurry. "

"All that is very true, " replied Edward; "so that it will be useful atall events, if you do not dig it up. "

"Indeed it will, " replied Humphrey; "I only wish it were six acresinstead of three. "

"I can't say I do, " replied Edward, laughing; "you are too grand inyour ideas; only think what a quantity of spruces we shall have to cutdown on it, to post and rail what you just propose. Let it be threeacres first, Humphrey; and when they are inclosed, you may begin totalk of three more. "

"Well, perhaps you are right, Edward, " said Humphrey. 

"Why, here's Pablo coming after us; he's not coming to work, Ipresume, but to amuse himself by looking on. "

"I don't think he's strong enough to do much hard work, Humphrey, although he appears very ingenious. "

"No, I agree with you; and if he is to work, depend upon it it mustnot be by having work set out for him; he would take a disgust to itdirectly. I have another plan for him. "

"And what is that, Humphrey?"

"I shall not set him any thing to do, and shall make him believe thatI do not think he is able to do any thing. That will pique him, and Ithink by that means I shall get more work out of him than you wouldthink, especially when, after he has done it, I express my wonder andgive him praise. "

"Not a bad idea, that; you will work upon his pride, which is probablystronger than his laziness. "

"I do not think him lazy, but I think him unused to hard work, andhaving lived a life of wandering and idleness, not very easy to bebrought to constant and dayly work, except by degrees, and by themeans which I propose. Here we are, " continued Humphrey, throwing hisax and bill-hook down, and proceeding to take off his doublet; "nowfor an hour or two's fulfillment of the sentence of our first parents--to wit, 'the sweat of the brow. '"

Edward followed Humphrey's example in taking off his doublet; theyselected the long thin trees most fitted for rails, and were hard atwork when Pablo came up to them. More than a dozen trees had fallen, and lay one upon the other, before they stopped a while to recoverthemselves a little. 

"Well, Pablo, " said Humphrey, wiping his forehead, "I suppose youthink looking on better than cutting down trees; and so it is. "

"What cut down trees for?"

"To make posts and rails to fence in more ground. I shall not leavethe boughs on. "

"No cut them off by-and-by, and then put poles on the cart and carrythem home. "

Edward and Humphrey then recommenced their labor, and worked foranother half hour, when they paused to recover their wind. 

"Hard work, Pablo, " said Humphrey. 

"Yes, very hard work; Pablo not strong enough. "

"Oh no, you are not able to do any thing of this kind, I know. No workthis for gipsies; they take birds' nests and catch rabbits. "

"Yes, " replied Pablo, nodding, "and you eat them. "

"So he does, Pablo, " said Edward, "so you are useful in your way; forif he had nothing to eat, he would not be able to work. Strong man cutdown trees, weak man catch rabbits. "

"Both good, " said Pablo. 

"Yes, but strong man like work; not strong man not like work, Pablo. So now look on again, for we must have another spell. "

"Strong man cut down trees, not strong man cut off branches, " saidPablo, taking up the bill-hook and setting to work to cut off theboughs, which he did with great dexterity and rapidity. 

Edward and Humphrey exchanged glances and smiles, and then worked awayin silence till it was, as they supposed, dinner time. They were notwrong in their supposition, although they had no other clock thantheir appetites, which, however, tell the time pretty correctly tothose who work hard. Alice had the platters on the table, and waslooking out to see if they were coming. 

"Why, Pablo, have you been at work?" said Edith. 

"Yes, little missy, work all the morning. "

"Indeed he has, and has worked very well, and been very useful, " saidEdward. 

"It has given you an appetite for your dinner, Pablo, has it not?"said Humphrey. 

"Have that without work, " replied the boy. 

"Pablo, you are a very good gipsy boy, " said Edith, patting his headwith a patronizing air; "I shall let you walk out with me and carrythe basket to put the eggs in when you come home in the evening. "

"That is a reward, " said Humphrey, laughing. 

After dinner they continued their labor, and by supper time had somany trees cut down, that they determined to carry home the next day, and lay them along to see how many more they would want. While theyput the trees in the cart and took them home, Pablo contrived to lopoff the boughs and prepare the poles for them to take away. As soon asthey had cut down sufficient and carted them home, they then selectedshorter trees for posts; and when Pablo had cleared them of theboughs, they sawed them out the proper lengths, and then carted themhome. This occupied nearly the whole week, and then they proceeded todig holes and set the posts in. The railing was then to be nailed tothe posts, and that occupied them three days more; so that it wasaltogether a fortnight of hard work before the three acres wereinclosed. 

"There, " said Humphrey, "that's a good job over; many thanks, Edward, for your assistance; and thank you, too, Pablo, for you really havehelped us very much indeed, and are a very useful, good boy. Now forraising the bank; that I must do when I can spare time; but my gardenis overrun with weeds, and I must get Edith and Alice to help methere. "

"If you don't want me any longer, Humphrey, " said Edward, "I think Ishall go over to see Oswald, and take Pablo with me. I want to knowhow that fellow Corbould is, and what he says; and whether theintendant has come back; not that I shall go near him or his goodlittle daughter, but I think I may as well go, and it will be a goodopportunity of showing Pablo the way to Oswald's cottage. "

"I think so too; and when you come back, Edward, one of us must go toLymington, for I require some tools, and Pablo is very ragged. He musthave some better clothes than these old ones of ours, if he is to besent messages. Don't you think so?"

"Certainly I do. "

"And I want a thousand things, " said Alice. 

"Indeed, mistress, won't less than a thousand content you?"

"Yes, perhaps not quite a thousand, but I really do want a great many, and I will make you a list of them. I have not pans enough for mymilk; I want salt; I want tubs; but I will make out a list, and youwill find it a very long one. "

"Well, I hope you have something to sell to pay for them?"

"Yes; I have plenty of butter salted down. "

"What have you, Edith?"

"Oh, my chickens are not large enough yet; as soon as they areHumphrey must get me some ducks and geese; for I mean to keep some;and by-and-by I will have some turkeys, but not yet. I must wait tillHumphrey builds me the new house for them he has promised me. "

"I think you are right, Edith, about the ducks and geese; they will dowell on the water behind the yard, and I will dig you out a biggerpool for them. "

"Edith, my dear, your little fingers are just made to weed my onionswell, and I wish you would do it to-morrow morning, if you have time. "

"Yes, Humphrey, but my little fingers won't smell very niceafterward. "

"Not till you have washed them, I guess; but there is soap and water, you know. "

"Yes, I know there is; but if I weed the onions, I can not help Aliceto make the butter; however, if Alice can do without me, I will doit. "

"I want some more seeds sadly, " said Humphrey, "and I must make out mylist. I must go to Lymington myself this time, Edward, for you will bepuzzled with all our wants. "

"Not if I know exactly what you do want; but as I really do not, andprobably should make mistakes, I think it will be better if you do go. But it is bedtime, and as I shall start early, good-night, sisters; Ibeg you will let me have something to eat before I start. I shall tryfor some venison as I come back, and shall take Smoker with me; he isquite well again, and his ribs are as stout as ever. "

"And, Edward, " said Alice, "I wish, when you kill any venison, thatyou would bring home some of those parts which you usually throw away, for I assure you, now that we have three dogs, I hardly know how tofind enough for them to eat. "

"I'll not fail, Alice, " replied Edward, "and now once more good-night. "

Early the next morning Edward took his gun, and, with Pablo andSmoker, set off for Oswald's cottage. 

Edward talked a great deal with Pablo relative to his former life;and, by the answers which the boy gave him, was satisfied that, notwithstanding his doubtful way of bringing up, the lad was notcorrupted, but was a well-minded boy. As they walked through a groveof trees, Edward still talking, Pablo stopped and put his hand beforeEdward's mouth, and then stooping down, at the same time seizingSmoker by the neck, he pointed with his finger. Edward at first couldsee nothing, but eventually he made out the horns of an animal justrising above a hillock. It was evidently one of the wild cattle. Edward cocked his gun and advanced cautiously, while Pablo remainedwhere he was, holding Smoker. As soon as he was near enough to hit thehead of the animal, Edward leveled and fired, and Pablo let Smokerloose, who bounded forward over the hillock. They followed the dog andfound him about to seize a calf which stood by a heifer that Edwardhad shot. Edward called him over and went up to the animal; it was afine young heifer, and the calf was not more than a fortnight old. 

"We can not stop now, Pablo, " said Edward. "Humphrey would like tohave the calf, and we must take our chance of its remaining by itsmother till we come back. I think it will for a day or two, so let uspush on. "

No further adventure happened, and they arrived a little after noon atOswald's cottage. He was not at home, his wife saying that shebelieved that he was with the intendant, who had come back from Londonthe day before. 

"But I will put on my hood and see, " said the young woman. 

In a few minutes she returned with Oswald. 

"I am glad that you have come, sir, " said Oswald, as Edward extendedhis hand, "as I have just seen the intendant, and he has been askingmany questions about you. I am certain he thinks that you are not thegrandson of Jacob Armitage, and that he supposes I know who you are. He asked me where your cottage was, and whether I could take him toit, as he wished to speak to you, and said that he felt great interestabout you. "

"And what did you say?"

"I said that your cottage was a good day's journey from here, and Iwas not certain that I knew the exact way, as I had been there butseldom, but that I knew where to find it after I saw the forests ofArnwood; I told him about Corbould and his attempt upon you, and hewas very wroth. I never saw him moved before; and young MistressPatience, she was indeed angry and perplexed, and begged her father tosend the assailant away as soon as he could be moved. MasterHeatherstone replied, 'Leave it to me, my dear;' and then asked mewhat account Corbould gave of himself, and his falling into the pit. Itold him that Corbould stated that he was following a deer, which hehad severely wounded about noonday, and having no dog with him hecould not overtake it, although he knew by its bleeding track that itcould not hold out much longer. That he followed it until nightfall, and had it in view and close to him, when he fell into the pit. "

"Well, the story was not badly made up, " said Edward, "only for _adeer_ read _man:_ and what did the intendant say to that?"

"He said that he believed you, and that Corbould's story was false--as, if it had been a stag that he was following, no one would haveknown that he had fallen into the pit, and he would have remainedthere till now. I quite forgot to say, that when the intendant saidthat he wished to call at your cottage, the young mistress said thatshe wished to go with him, as you had told her that you had twosisters living with you, and she wished very much to see them and maketheir acquaintance. "

"I am afraid that we shall not be able to prevent this visit, Oswald, "replied Edward. "He is in command here, and the forest is in hischarge. We must see to it. I only should like, if possible, to havenotice of his coming, that we may be prepared. "

"You need no preparation, sir, if he should come, " replied Oswald. 

"Very true, " said Edward; "we have nothing to conceal, and if he findsus in a pickle, it is of no consequence. "

"Rather the better, sir, " replied Oswald. "Let your sisters be at thewash-tub, and you and your brother carting manure; he will then bemore likely to have no suspicion of your being otherwise than what youassume to be. "

"Have you heard any news from London, Oswald?"

"Not as yet. I was away yesterday evening, when Master Heatherstonecame back, and I have not seen his man this morning. While you eatyour dinner, I will go into the kitchen; and if he is not there, Phoebe will be sure to tell me all that she has heard. "

"Do not say that I am here, Oswald, as I do not wish to see theintendant. "

"Mum's the word, sir; but you must stay in the cottage, or others willsee you, and it may come to his ears. "

Oswald's wife then put before him a large pie, and some wheaten bread, with a biggin of good beer. Edward helped Pablo to a large allowance, and then filled his own platter; while thus occupied, Oswald Partridgehad left the cottage, as agreed. 

"What do you say, Pablo? do you think you can walk back to-night?"

"Yes; like walking at night. My people always do; sleep in a daytime. "

"Well, I think it will be better to go home: Oswald has only one bed, and I do not wish them to know that I am here; so, Pablo, eatheartily, and then we shall not be so tired. I want to get home, thatI may send Humphrey after the calf. "

"One bed here; you stay, " replied Pablo. "I go home, and tell MasterHumphrey. "

"Do you think you would be able to find your way, Pablo?"

"Once go one way, always know same way again. "

"You are a clever fellow, Pablo, and I have a mind to try you. Nowdrink some beer. I think, Pablo, you shall go home, and tell Humphreythat I and Smoker will be where the heifer lies dead, and have itskinned by nine o'clock tomorrow morning; so, if he comes, he willfind me there. "

"Yes, I go now. "

"No, not now; you must rest yourself a little more. "

"Pablo not tired, " replied the gipsy, getting up; "be back beforesupper. As I go along, look at calf and dead cow--see if calf staywith mother. "

"Very well, then, if you wish it, you may go now, " said Edward. 

Pablo nodded his head and disappeared. 

A few minutes afterward, Oswald made his appearance. 

"Is the boy gone?"

"Yes; he is gone back to the cottage;" and Edward then stated how hehad killed the heifer, and wanted to obtain the calf. 

"I've an idea that you will find that boy very useful, if he isproperly managed. "

"I think so too, " replied Edward; "and I am glad to perceive that heis already attached to all of us. We treat him as ourselves. "

"You are right; and now for the news that I have to tell you. The DukeHamilton, the Earl of Holland, and Lord Capel have been tried, condemned, and executed. "

Edward sighed. "More murder! but we must expect it from those who havemurdered their king. Is that all?"

"No. King Charles the Second has been proclaimed in Scotland, andinvited to come over. "

"That is indeed news, " replied Edward. "Where is he now?"

"At the Hague; but it was said that he was going to Paris. "

"That is all that you have heard?"

"Yes; that was what was current when Master Heatherstone, was in town. His man, Samson, gave me the news; and he further said, 'that hismaster's journey to London was to oppose the execution of the threelords; but it was all in vain. '"

"Well, " replied Edward, after a pause, "if the king does come over, there will be some work cut out for some of us, I expect. Your newshas put me in a fever, " continued Edward, taking up the biggin anddrinking a large draught of beer. 

"I thought it would, " replied Oswald; "but until the time comes, themore quiet you keep the better. "

"Yes, Oswald; but I can't talk any more; I must be left alone tothink. I will go to bed, as I shall be off early in the morning. Isthat fellow, Corbould, getting well?"

"Yes, sir; he is out of bed, and walks a little with a stick; but heis still very lame, and will be for some time. "

"Good-night, Oswald; if I have any thing to say, I will write and sendthe boy. I do not want to be seen here any more. "

"It will be best, sir. Good-night; I will put Smoker in the kennel tothe right, as he will not be friendly with the other dogs. "

Edward retired to bed, but not to sleep. The Scots had proclaimed theking, and invited him over. "He will surely come, " thought Edward, "and he will have an army round him as soon as he lands. " Edward madeup his resolution to join the army, as soon as he should hear that theking had landed; and what with considering how he should be able so todo, and afterward building castles as to what he would do, it was longbefore he fell asleep; and when he did he dreamed of battles andvictory--he was charging at the head of his troops--he was surroundedby the dying and the dead. He was wounded, and he was somehow or otherwell again, as if by magic; and then the scene was changed, and he wasrescuing Patience Heatherstone from his own lawless men, andpreserving the life of her father, which was about to be sacrificed;and at last he awoke, and found that the daylight peeped through thewindows, and that he had slept longer than he intended to do. He aroseand dressed himself quickly, and, not waiting for breakfast, went tothe kennel, released Smoker from his durance, and set off on hisreturn. 

Before nine o'clock, he had arrived at the spot where the heifer laydead. He found the calf still by its side, bleating and walking rounduneasily. As he approached with the dog, it went to a fartherdistance, and there remained. Edward took out his knife and commencedskinning the heifer, and then took out the inside. The animal wasquite fresh and good, but not very fat, as may be supposed. While thusoccupied, Smoker growled and then sprung forward, bounding away in thedirection of the cottage, and Edward thought Humphrey was at hand. Ina few minutes, the pony and cart appeared between the trees, withHumphrey and Pablo in it, and Smoker leaping up at his friend Billy. 

"Good-morning, Humphrey, " said Edward: "I am almost ready for you; butthe question is, how are we to take the calf? It is as wild as adeer. "

"It will be a puzzler, without Smoker can run it down, " said Humphrey. 

"I take him, with Smoker, " said Pablo. 

"How will you take it?"

Pablo went to the cart, and took out a long small cord, which Humphreyhad brought with them, and made a noose at one end; he coiled the ropein his hand, and then threw it out to its full length, by way oftrial. "This way I take him, suppose I get near enough. This way takebulls in Spain; call him Lasso. Now come with me. " Pablo had his ropeagain coiled in his hand, and then went round to the other side of thecalf, which still remained lowing at about two hundred yards'distance. 

"Now tell Smoker, " cried Pablo. 

Humphrey set Smoker upon the calf, which retreated from the dog, presenting his head to run at it; and Pablo kept behind the animal, while Smoker attacked it, and drove it near to him. 

As soon as the calf, which was so busy with the dog that it did notperceive Pablo, came sufficiently near to him, Pablo threw his rope, and caught the loop round the animal's neck. The calf set offgalloping toward Humphrey, and dragging Pablo after him, for thelatter was not strong enough to hold it. 

Humphrey went to his assistance, and then Edward; and the calf wasthrown down by Smoker, who seized it by the neck, and it was tied andput on the cart in a few minutes. 

"Well done, Pablo! you are a clever fellow, " said Edward, "and thiscalf shall be yours. "

"It is a cow calf, " said Humphrey, "which I am glad of. Pablo, you didthat well, and, as Edward says, the calf belongs to you. "

Pablo look pleased, but said nothing. 

The meat and hide were put into the cart, with some of the offal whichAlice had asked for the dogs, and they set off on their return home. 

Humphrey was very anxious to go to Lymington, and was not sorry thathe had some meat to take with him: he determined to get off the nextmorning, and Edward proposed that he should take Pablo with him, thathe might know the way there in case of any emergency, for they bothfelt that Pablo could be trusted. Edward said he would remain at homewith his sisters, and see if he could be of any use to Alice; if not, there would be work in the garden. Humphrey and Pablo went away afterbreakfast, with Billy, and the meat and skin of the heifer in thecart. Humphrey had also a large basket of eggs and three dozen ofchickens from Alice to be disposed of, and a list as long as the tailof a kite, of articles which she and Edith required; fortunately therewas nothing very expensive on the list, long as it was--but women inthose days required needles, pins, buttons, tapes, thread, worsted, and a hundred other little necessaries, as they do now. As soon asthey were gone, Edward, who was still castle-building, instead ofoffering his services to Alice, brought out his father's sword andcommenced cleaning it. When he had polished it up to his satisfaction, he felt less inclined than ever to do any thing; so after dinner hetook his gun and walked out into the forest that he might indulge inhis reveries. He walked on, quite unconscious of the direction inwhich he was going, and more than once finding his hat knocked off bythe branch of a tree which he had not perceived--for the best of allpossible reasons, because his eyes were cast on the ground--when hisears were saluted with the neighing of a horse. He looked up andperceived that he was near to a herd of forest ponies, the first thathe had seen since he had lived in the forest. 

This roused him, and he looked about him. "Where can I have beenwandering to?" thought Edward; "I never fell in with any of the forestponies before; I must, therefore, have walked in a direction quitecontrary to what I usually do. I do not know where I am--the sceneryis new to me. What a fool I am! It's lucky that nobody except Humphreydigs pitfalls, or I should probably have been in one by this time; andI've brought out my gun and left the dog at home. Well, I suppose Ican find my way back. " Edward then surveyed the whole herd of ponies, which were at no great distance from him. There was a fine horse ortwo among them, which appeared to be the leaders of the herd. Theyallowed Edward to approach to within two hundred yards, and then, withmanes and tails streaming in the air, they darted off with therapidity of the wind. 

"Now I'll puzzle Humphrey when I go back, " thought Edward. "He saysthat Billy is getting old, and that he wishes he could get anotherpony. I will tell him what a plenty there are, and propose that heshould invent some way of catching one. That will be a poser for him;yet I'm sure that he will try, for he is very ingenious. And now, which way am I to turn to find my way home? I think it ought to be tothe north; but which is north? for there is no sun out, and now Iperceive it looks very like rain. I wonder how long I have beenwalking! I am sure I don't know. " Edward then hurried in a directionwhich he considered might lead him homeward, and walked fast; but heonce more fell into his habit of castle-building, and was talking tohimself: "The king proclaimed in Scotland! he will come over ofcourse: I will join his army, and then--" Thus he went on, againabsorbed in the news which he had gained from Oswald, till on a suddenhe again recollected himself, and perceived that he had lost sight ofthe copse of trees on a high hill, to which he had been directing hissteps. Where was it? He turned round and round, and at last found outthat he had been walking away from it. "I must dream no more, " thoughthe, "or if I do indulge in any more daydreams, I certainly shallneither sleep nor dream to-night. It is getting dark already, and hereI am lost in the forest, and all through my own foolishness. If thestars do not shine, I shall not know how to direct my steps; indeed, if they do, I don't know whether I have walked south or north, and Iam in a pretty pickle; not that I care for being out in the forest ona night like this, but my sisters and Humphrey will be alarmed at myabsence. The best thing that I can do, is to decide upon taking somestraight line, and continue in it: I must then get out the forest atlast, even if I walk right across it. That will be better than goingbackward and forward, or round and round, as I shall otherwise do, just like a puppy running alter its own tail. So now shine out, stars!" Edward waited until he could make out Charles's Wain, which hewell knew, and then the Polar Star. As soon as he was certain of that, he resolved to travel by it due north, and he did so, sometimeswalking fast, and at others keeping up a steady trot for a half a milewithout stopping. As he was proceeding on his travels, he observed, under some trees ahead of him, a spark of fire emitted; he thought itwas a glow-worm at first, but it was more like the striking of a flintagainst steel; and as he saw it a second time, he stopped that hemight ascertain what it might be, before he advanced farther. 

CHAPTER XV. 

It was now very dark, as there was no moon, and the stars were oftenobscured by the clouds, which were heavy and borne along by the wind, which was very high. The light again appeared, and this time Edwardheard the clash of the flint against the steel, and he was quitecertain that it was somebody striking a light. He advanced verycautiously, and arrived at a large tree, behind which he remained toreconnoiter. The people, whoever they might be, were not more thanthirty yards from him; a light spread its rays for a moment or two, and he could make out a figure kneeling and holding his hat to protectit from the wind; then it burned brighter, and he saw that a lanternhad been lighted, and then again, of a sudden, all was dark: so Edwardimmediately satisfied himself that a dark lantern had been lighted andthen closed. Who the parties might be, he of course had no idea; buthe was resolved that he would ascertain, if he could, before heaccosted them and asked his way. 

"They have no dog, " thought Edward, "or it would have growled beforethis; and it's lucky that I have none either. " Edward then creptsoftly nearer to them: the wind, which was strong, blew from wherethey were to where Edward stood, so that there was less chance oftheir hearing his approach. 

Edward went on his hands and knees, and crawled through the fern untilhe gained another tree, and within ten yards of them, and from wherehe could hear what they might say. He was thus cautious, as he hadbeen told by Oswald that there were many disbanded soldiers who hadtaken up their quarters in the forest, and had committed severaldepredations upon the houses adjacent to it, always returning to theforest as a rendezvous. Edward listened, and heard one say--

"It is not time yet! No, no: too soon by half an hour or more. Thepeople from Lymington, who buy him what he wants, always bring it tohim at night, that his retreat may not be discovered. They sometimesdo not leave the cottage till two hours after dark, for they do notleave Lymington to go there till it is dark. "

"Do you know who it is who supplies him with food?"

"Yes, the people at the inn in Parliament-street--I forget the sign. "

"Oh, I know. Yes, the landlord is a downright Malignant in his heart!We might squeeze him well, if we dared show ourselves in Lymington. "

"Yes, but they would squeeze our necks tighter than would beagreeable, I expect, " replied the other. 

"Are you sure that he has money?"

"Quite sure; for I peeped through the chinks of the window-shutters, and I saw him pay for the things brought to him; it was from a canvasbag, and it was gold that he took out. "

"And where did he put the bag after he had paid them?"

"That I can't tell, for, as I knew that they would come out as soon asthey were paid, I was obliged to beat a retreat, lest I should beseen. "

"Well, then, how is it to be managed?"

"We must first tap at the door, and try if we can get in as benightedtravelers; if that won't do--and I fear it will not--while you remainbegging for admittance at the door, and keep him occupied, I will trythe door behind, that leads into the garden; and if not the door, Iwill try the window. I have examined them both well, and have beenoutside when he has shut up his shutters, and I know the fastenings. With a pane out, I could open them immediately. "

"Is there any body else besides him in the cottage?"

"Yes, a lad who attends him, and goes to Lymington for him. "

"No women?"

"Not one. "

"But do you think we two are sufficient? Had we not better get morehelp? There is Broom, and Black the gipsy, at the rendezvous. I can gofor them, and be back in time; they are stout and true. "

"Stout enough, but not true. No, no, I want no sharers in thisbusiness, and you know how ill they behaved in the last affair. I'llswear that they only produced half the swag. I like honor betweengentlemen and soldiers; and that's why I have chosen you. I know I cantrust you, Benjamin. It's time now--what do you say? We are two toone, for I count the boy as nothing. Shall we start?"

"I am with you. You say there's a bag of gold, and that's worthfighting for. "

"Yes, Ben, and I'll tell you: with what I've got buried, and my shareof that bag, I shall have enough, I think; and I'll start for the LowCountries, for England's getting rather too warm for me. "

"Well, I shan't go yet, " replied Benjamin. "I don't like your foreignparts; they have no good ale, and I can't understand their talk. I'dsooner remain in jolly old England with a halter twisted ready for me, than pass my life with such a set of chaps, who drink nothing butscheidam, and wear twenty pair of breeches. Come, let's be off; if weget the money, you shall go to the Low Countries, Will, and I'll startfor the North, where they don't know me; for if you go, I won't stayhere. "

The two men then rose up; and the one whose name appeared to be Willfirst examined if the candle in his dark lantern burned well; and thenthey both set off, followed by Edward, who had heard quite enough tosatisfy him that they were bent upon a burglary, if not murder. Edwardfollowed them, so as to keep their forms indistinctly in sight, whichwas as much as he could do at twenty yards' distance; fortunately thewind was so high that they did not hear his footsteps, although heoften trod upon a rotten stick, which snapped as it broke in twain. Asnear as Edward could guess, he had tracked them about three miles, when they stopped, and he perceived that they were examining theirpistols, which they took from their belts. They then went on again, and entered a small plantation of oak-trees, of about forty years'growth--very thick and very dark, with close underwood below. Theyfollowed each other through a narrow path, until they came to acleared place in the middle of the plantation, in which there stood alow cottage, surrounded with covert on every side, with the exceptionof some thirty yards of land around it. All was still, and as dark aspitch; Edward remained behind the trees, and when the two men againstopped, he was not six feet from them. They consulted in a low tonebut the wind was so high that he could not distinguish what they said. At last they advanced to the cottage, and Edward, still keeping withinthe trees, shifted his position, so that he should be opposite thegable end of the cottage. He observed one man to go up to the frontdoor, while the other went round to the door behind, as had beenagreed. Edward threw open the pan of the lock of the gun, and reprimedit, that he might be sure, and then waited for what was to follow. Heheard the man Will at the front door, talking and asking for shelterin a plaintive but loud voice; and shortly afterward he perceived alight through the chinks of the shutters--for Edward was continuallyaltering his position to see what was going on in the front and in theback. At one time, he thought of leveling his gun and killing one ofthe men at once; but he could not make up his mind to do that, as aburglary, although intended, had not yet been committed; so heremained passive until the attack was really made, when he resolvedthat he would come to the rescue. After some minutes of entreaty thatthey would open the door, the man in front commenced thumping andbeating against it, as if he would make them open the door by force;but this was to attract the attention of those within, and divert itfrom the attempts that the other was making to get in behind. Edwardwas aware of this; he now kept his eye upon what was going on at theback. Advancing nearer--which he ventured to do now that both the menwere so occupied--he perceived that the fellow had contrived to openthe window close to the back door, and was remaining quite close to itwith a pistol in his hand, apparently not wishing to run the risk ofclimbing in. Edward slipped under the eaves of the cottage, not sixfeet from the man, who remained with his back partly turned to him. Edward then, finding he had obtained this position unperceived, crouched down with his gun ready pointed. 

As Edward remained in this position, he heard a shrill voice cry out, "They are getting in behind!" and a movement in cottage. The man nearhim, who had his pistol in his hand, put his arm through the windowand fired inside. A shriek was given, and Edward fired his gun intothe body of the man, who immediately fell. Edward lost no time inreloading his gun, during which he heard the bursting open of thefront door and the report of firearms; then all was silent for amoment, excepting the wailing of somebody within. As soon as his gunwas reloaded, Edward walked round to the front of the cottage, wherehe found the man who was called Ben, lying across the threshold of theopen door. He stepped across the body, and, looking into the roomwithin, perceived a body stretched on the floor, and a young ladweeping over it. 

"Don't be alarmed, I am a friend, " said Edward, going in to where thebody lay; and, taking the light which was at the farther end of thechamber, he placed it on the floor, that he might examine the state ofthe person, who was breathing heavily, and apparently badly wounded. "Rise up, my lad, " said Edward, "and let me see if I can be of anyuse. "

"Ah, no!" cried the boy, throwing back his long hair from his temples, "he bleeds to death!"

"Bring me some water, quick, " said Edward, "there's a good lad, whileI see where he is hurt. "

The boy ran up to fetch the water, and Edward discovered that the ballhad entered the neck above the collar-bone, and that the blood pouredout of the man's mouth, who was choking with the effusion. Althoughignorant of surgery, Edward thought that such a wound must be mortal;but the man was not only alive but sensible, and although he could notutter a word, he spoke with his eyes and with signs. He raised hishand and pointed to himself first, and shook his head, as if to saythat it was all over with him; and then he turned round his head, asif looking for the lad, who was now returning with the water. When thelad again knelt by his side, weeping bitterly, the man pointed to him, and gave such an imploring look that Edward immediately comprehendedwhat he wished: it was to ask protection for the boy. It could not bemisunderstood, and could Edward do otherwise than promise it to thedying man? His generous nature could not refuse it, and he said, "Iunderstand you; you wish me to take care of your boy when you aregone. Is it not so?"

The man signified assent. 

"I promise you I will do so. I will take him into my own family, andhe shall share with us. "

The man raised his hand again, and a gleam of joy passed over hisfeatures, as he took the hand of the lad and put it into that ofEdward. His eyes were then fixed upon Edward as if to scrutinize intohis character by his features, while the former bathed his temples andwashed the blood from his mouth with the water brought by the boy, whoappeared in a state of grief so violent as to paralyze his senses. After a minute or two, another effusion of blood choked the woundedman, who, after a short struggle, fell back dead. 

"He is gone!" thought Edward, "and now what is to be done? I mustfirst ascertain whether the two villains are dead or not. Edward tooka light and examined the body of Ben, lying over the threshold of thedoor; the man was quite dead, the ball having entered his brain. Hewas proceeding round the outside of the cottage to examine the stateof the other man, whom he had shot himself; but the wind nearly blewout the light, and he therefore returned to the chamber and placed iton the floor, near to where the boy lay insensible over the corpse ofthe man who had died in the arms of Edward; and then went out withouta light, and with his gun, to the other side of the cottage, where theother robber had fallen. As he approached the man, a faint voice washeard to say--

"Ben, Ben! some water, for the love of God! Ben, I'm done for!"

Edward, without giving an answer, went back to the room for the water, which he took round to the man, and put it to his lips; he felt thathe was bound by humanity so to do to a dying man, scoundrel though hemight be. It was still dark, but not so dark as it had previouslybeen, for the late moon was just rising. 

The man drank the water eagerly, and said, "Ben, I can speak now, butI shan't long. " He then pulled the basin toward him again, and afterhe had drank, ho said, in broken sentences, "I feel--that I'mbleeding--to death--inside. " Then he paused. "You know the oak--struckby lightning--a mile north--of this. Oh! I'm going fast. Three yardsfrom it south--I buried all my--money; it's yours. Oh! another drink!"The man again attempted to drink out of the basin proffered by Edward, but as he made the attempt, he fell back with a groan. 

Edward perceiving that he was dead, returned to the cottage to lookafter the lad, who still remained prostrate and embracing the corpsein the chamber. Edward then reflected upon what had best be done. After a time, he decided upon dragging away the body of the robbernamed Ben outside of the threshold, and then securing the door. This, with some trouble, he effected, and he then made fast the window thathad been forced open behind. Before he removed the boy, who lay withhis face buried on the corpse, and appeared to be in a state ofinsensibility, Edward examined the corpse as it lay. Although plainlydressed, yet it was evident that it was not the body of a rustic; thefeatures were fair, and the beard was carefully cut; the hands werewhite, and the fingers long, and evidently had never been employed inlabor. That the body was that of some superior person disguised as arustic, was evident, and this was corroborated by the conversationwhich took place between the two robbers. "Alas!" thought Edward, "thefamily of Arnwood appear not to be the only people who are in disguisein this forest. That poor boy! he must not remain there. " Edwardlooked round, and perceived that there was a bed in the adjoiningroom, the door of which was open; he lifted up the boy, and carriedhim, still insensible, into the room, and laid him on the bed. He thenwent for some more water, which he found and threw into his face, andpoured a little into his mouth. Gradually the boy stirred, andrecovered from his stupor, and then Edward held the water to hismouth, and made him drink some, which he did; and then, suddenlyaroused to a recollection of what had passed, the boy gave a shriek ofwoe, and burst into a paroxysm of tears. This ended in convulsivesobbings and low moanings. Edward felt that he could do no more atpresent, and that it would be better if he was left for a time to givevent to his grief. Edward sat down on a stool by the side of theorphan, and remained for some time in deep and melancholy thought. "How strange, " thought he at last, "it is, that I should feel solittle as I do now, surrounded by death, compared to what I did whengood old Jacob Armitage died! Then I felt it deeply, and there was anawe in death. Now I no longer dread it. Is it because I loved the goodold man, and felt that I had lost a friend? No, that can not be thecause; I may have felt more grief, but not awe or dread. Or is itbecause that was the first time that I had seen death, and it is thefirst sight of death which occasions awe? or is it because that everyday I have fancied myself on the battle-field, with hundreds lyingdead and wounded around me, in my dreamings? I know not. Poor oldJacob died peaceably in his bed, like a good Christian and trusting, after a blameless life, to find mercy through his Savior. Two of thesewho are now dead, out of the three, have been, summoned away in theheight of their wickedness, and in the very commission of crime; thethird has been foully murdered, and out of three lying dead, one hasfallen by my own hand, and yet I feel not so much as when I attendedthe couch, and listened to the parting words of a dying Christian! Icannot account for it, or reason why; I only know that it is so, and Inow look upon death unconcerned. Well, this is a kind of preparationfor the wholesale murder and horrors of the battlefield, which I haveso long sighed for: God forgive me if I am wrong! And this poor boy! Ihave promised to protect him, and I will. Could I fail my promise, Ishould imaging the spirit of his father (as I presume he was) lookingdown and upbraiding me. No, no, I will protect him. I and my brotherand sisters have been preserved and protected, and I were indeed vileif I did not do to others as I have been done by. And now let mereflect what is to be done. I must not take the boy away, and bury thebodies; this person has friends at Lymington, and they will come here. The murder has taken place in the forest: then I must let theintendant know what has occurred. I will send over to Oswald; Humphreyshall go. Poor fellow! what a state of anxiety must he and my littlesisters be in, at my not returning home! I had quite forgotten that, but it can not be helped. I will wait till sunrise, and then see ifthe boy will be more himself, and probably from him I shall be able tofind out what part of the forest I am in. "

Edward took up the candle and went into the room in which he had laidthe boy on the bed. He found him in a sound sleep. "Poor fellow, " saidEdward, "he has for a time forgotten his misery. What a beautiful boyhe is! I long to know his history. Sleep on, my poor fellow! it willdo you service. "

Edward then returned to the other room, and recollected, or, rather, was reminded, that he had had no supper, and it was now nearly dawn ofday. He looked into a cupboard and found plenty of provisions, andsome flasks of wine. "I have earned my supper, " thought he, "and Iwill not, therefore, deny myself. " So ho brought out the viands and aflask of wine, and made a hearty meal. "It is long since I have tastedwine, " thought he, "and it maybe long ere I drink it again. I havelittle relish for it now: it is too fiery to the palate. I recollect, when a child, how my father used to have me at the table, and give mea stoup of claret, which I could hardly lift to my lips, to drink tothe health of the king. " The memory of the king raised other thoughtsin Edward's mind, and he again sunk into one of his reveries, whichlasted till he fell into a slumber. When he woke up, it was at thevoice of the boy, who in his sleep had cried out "Father!" Edwardstarted up, and found that the sun was an hour high, and that he musthave slept some time. He gently opened the cottage door, looked at thebodies of the two men, and then walked out to survey the locality ofthe cottage, which he had but faintly made out during the night. Hefound that it was surrounded by a thicket of trees and underwood, soclose and thick that there appeared to him no outlet in any direction. "What a place for concealment!" thought Edward, "but still theseprowling thieves discovered it. Why, troops of horse might scour theforest for months, and never discover such a hiding-place. " Edwardwalked round by the side of the thicket, to find out the track bywhich the robbers had entered when he followed them, and at lastsucceeded in doing so. He followed the path through the thicket untilhe was clear of it, and again in the forest; but the scenery outsidewas unknown to him, and he had not an idea as to what part of theforest it was in. "I must question the boy, " thought Edward. "I willgo back and wake him up, for it is time that I was moving. " As he wasagain turning into the thicket, he heard a dog giving tongue, as if ona scent. It came nearer and nearer to him, and Edward remained to seewhat it might be. In a moment more, he perceived his own dog, Smoker, come bounding out of a neighboring copse, followed by Humphrey andPablo. Edward hallooed. Smoker sprung toward him, leaping up, andloading him with caresses, and in another moment he was in Humphrey'sarms. 

"Oh, Edward, let me first thank God!" said Humphrey, as the tearsstarted and rolled down his cheeks. "What a night we have passed! Whathas happened? That dear fellow, Pablo, thought of putting Smoker onthe scent; he brought out your jacket and showed it to Smoker, andgave it him to smell, and then led him along till he was on yourfootsteps; and the dog followed him, it seems, although it has beenround and round in every direction, till at last he has brought us toyou. "

Edward shook hands with Pablo, and thanked him. "How far are we fromthe cottage, Humphrey?"

"About eight miles, I should say, Edward; not more. "

"Well, I have much to tell you, and I must tell it to you in few wordsbefore I go farther, and afterward I will tell you all in detail"

Edward then gave a succinct narration of what had occurred, and, having thus prepared Humphrey and Pablo for what they were to see, ledthe way back through the thicket to the cottage inside of it. Humphreyand Pablo were much shocked at the scene of slaughter which presenteditself to their eyes; and, after having viewed the bodies, they beganto consult what had best be done. 

The proposal of Edward, that Humphrey should go over and make knownthe circumstances to Oswald, that they might be communicated to theintendant, was readily acceded to; and Pablo, it was agreed, should gohome and tell Alice and Edith that Edward was safe. 

"But now, Humphrey, about this boy; we can not leave him here. "

"Where is he?"

"He still sleeps, I believe. The question is, whether you should rideover with the pony, or walk, and leave Pablo to return with the ponyand cart; for I will not take the boy away, or leave the house myself, without removing the property which belongs to the boy, and of which Iwill make inquiry when he awakes. Besides, there is money, by what therobbers stated in my hearing, which of course must be taken care offor him. "

"I think it will be best for me to walk over, Edward. If I ride, Ishould arrive too late in the afternoon for any thing to be done tillnext morning, and if I walk I shall be in time enough; so that issettled. Besides, it will give you more time to remove the boy'sproperty, which, as his father was in all probability a Malignant, anddenounced man, they might think right to secure for the government. "

"Very true; then be it so. Do you start for the intendant's; and, Pablo, go home and fetch the pony and cart, while I remain here withthe boy, and get every thing ready. "

Humphrey and Pablo both set off, and then Edward went to waken theboy, still lying on the bed. 

"Come, you must get up now. You know that what's done can not beundone; and if you are a good boy, and have read the Bible, you mustknow that we must submit to the will of God, who is our kind father inheaven. "

"Ah me!" said the boy, who was awake when Edward went to him; "I knowwell it is my duty, but it is a hard duty, and I am heartbroken. Ihave lost my father, the only friend I had in the world; who is thereto love and to cherish me now? What will become of me!"

"I promised your father, before he died, that I would take care ofyou, my poor fellow; and a promise is sacred with me, even if it werenot made to a dying man. I will do my best, depend upon it, for I haveknown myself what it is to want and to find a protector. You shalllive with me and my brother and sisters, and you shall have all wehave. "

"Have you sisters, then?" replied the boy. 

"Yes; I have sent for the cart to take you away from this, and to-night you shall be in our cottage; but now tell me--I do not ask whoyour father was, or why he was living here in secret, as I found itout by what I overheard the robbers say to one another--but how longhave you lived here?"

"More than a year. "

"Whose cottage is it?"

"My father bought it when he came, as he thought it safer so, that hemight not be discovered or betrayed; for he had escaped from prisonafter having been condemned to death by the Parliament. "

"Then he was a loyal man to his king?"

"Yes, he was, and that was his only crime. "

"Then fear not, my good boy; we are all loyal as well as he was, andwill never be otherwise. I tell you this that you may safely trust tous. Now, if the cottage was his, the furniture and property were hisalso?"

"Yes, all was his. "

"And it is now yours, is it not?"

"I suppose so, " said the boy, bursting into tears. 

"Then listen to me: your father is safe from all persecution now; heis, I trust, in heaven; and you they can not touch, as you have donenothing to offend them; but still they will take possession of yourfather's property as soon as they know of his death, and find out whohe was. This, for your sake I wish to prevent them from doing, andhave therefore sent for the cart, that I may remove to my cottageevery thing that is of value, that it may be held for your benefit;some day or another you may require it. The murder having beencommitted in the forest, and I having been a witness and, moreover, having shot one of the robbers, I have considered it right to send tothe intendant of the forest, to give him notice of what has takenplace within his jurisdiction. I do not think he is so bad a man asthe rest; but still, when he comes here, he may consider it his dutyto take possession of every thing for the Parliament, as I have nodoubt such are his orders, or will be when he communicates with theParliament. Now this is a robbery which I wish to prevent, by carryingaway your property before they come over, which they will to-morrow;and I propose that you shall accompany me, with all that you can takeaway, or that may be useful, this evening. "

"You are very kind, " replied the boy. "I will do all you wish, but Ifeel very weak, and very unwell. "

"You must exert yourself, for your own sake, my poor fellow. Come, now, sit up and put all your own clothes together. Collect every thingin this room, while I look about the house. And tell me, had not yourfather some money? for the robbers said that they saw him counting itout of a sack, through the chinks of the shutters, and that was whythey made the attack. "

"Hateful money!" cried the boy. "Yes, he had, I believe, a great dealof money; but I can not say how much. "

"Now get up, and do as I request, my dear boy, " said Edward, raisinghim up in his arms; "when your grief is lessened, you may have manyhappy days yet in store for you; you have a Father in heaven that youmust put your trust in, and with him you will find peace. "

The boy rose up, and Edward closed the door of the chamber that hemight not see his father's corpse. 

"I do put my trust in Heaven, good sir, " replied the boy; "for it hasalready sent me a kind friend in my distress. You are good, I am sure;I see that in your face. Alas! how much more wretched would have beenmy condition if you had not fortunately come to our assistance! toolate indeed to save my poor father, but not too late to succor andconsole his child. I will go away with you, for I can not stay here. "

CHAPTER XVI. 

Edward then took the counterpane off the bed, and went with it intothe next room. He gently drew the body to the corner of the room, andcovered it up with the counterpane, and then proceeded to examine thecupboards, etc. In one he found a good store of books, in anotherthere was linen of all sorts, a great many curious arms, two suits ofbright armor such as was worn in those times, pistols, and guns, andammunition. On the floor of one of the cupboards was an iron chestabout two feet by eighteen inches. It was locked. Edward immediatelyconcluded that this chest held the money of the unfortunate man; butwhere was the key? Most likely about his person. He did not like toafflict the poor boy by putting the question to him, but he went tothe body and examined the pockets of the clothes; he found a bunch ofseveral keys, which he took, and then replaced the coverlid. He triedone of the keys, which appeared to be of the right size, to the lockof the iron chest, and found that it fitted it. Satisfied with this, he did not raise the lid of the chest, but dragged it out into thecenter of the room. There were many things of value about the room;the candlesticks were silver, and there were goblets of the samemetal. Edward collected all these articles, and a timepiece, and putthem into a basket, of which there were two large ones at the end ofthe room, apparently used for holding firewood. Every thing that hethought could be useful, or of value, he gathered together for thebenefit of the poor orphan boy. He afterward went into another smallroom, where he found sundry small trunks and cases locked up. These hebrought out without examining, as he presumed that they contained whatwas of value, or they would not be locked. When he had collected everything, he found that he had already more than the cart could carry inone trip; and he wanted to take some bedding with him, as he had not aspare bed in the cottage to give to the boy. Edward decided in his ownmind that he would take the most valuable articles away that night, and return with the cart for the remainder early on the followingmorning. It was now past noon, and Edward took out of the cupboardwhat victuals were left, and then went into the chamber where the boywas, and begged that he would eat something. The poor boy said that hehad no appetite; but Edward insisted and at last prevailed upon him toeat some bread and drink a glass of wine, which proved of greatservice to him. The poor fellow shuddered as he saw the body coveredup in the corner of the room, but said nothing. Edward was trying tomake him eat a little more, when Pablo made his appearance at thedoor. 

"Have you put up all that you want in the bedchamber?" said Edward. 

"Yes, I have put up every thing. "

"Then we will bring them out. Come, Pablo, you must help us. "

Pablo made signs, and pointed to the door. Edward went out. 

"First pull body away from this. "

"Yes, " replied Edward, "we must do so. "

Edward and Pablo pulled the body of the robber on one side of thedoorway, and threw over it some dried fern which lay by; they thenbacked the cart down to the door; the iron chest was first got in, then all the heavy articles, such as armor, guns, and books, etc. , andby that time the cart was more than half loaded. Edward then went intothe chamber, and brought out the packages the boy had made up, and putthem all in the cart until it was loaded high up; they brought outsome blankets, and laid over all to keep things steady; and thenEdward told the boy that all was ready, and that they had better go. 

"Yes, I am willing, " replied he, with streaming eyes; "but let me seehim once more. "

"Come, then, " said Edward, leading him to the corpse, and uncoveringthe face. 

The boy knelt down, kissed the forehead and cold lips, covered up theface again, and then rose and wept bitterly on Edward's shoulder. Edward did not attempt to check his sorrow, he thought it better itshould have vent; but, after a time, he led the boy by degrees tillthey were out of the cottage. 

"Now then, " said Edward, "we must go, or we shall be late. My poorlittle sisters have been dreadfully alarmed at my not having come homelast night, and I long to clasp them in my arms. "

"Indeed you must, " replied the boy, wiping away his tears, "and I amvery selfish; let us go on. "

"No room for cart to get through wood, " said Pablo; "hard work, cartempty--more hard work, cart full. "

And so it proved to be; and it required all the united efforts ofBilly, Edward, and Pablo to force a passage for the cart through thenarrow pathway; but at last it was effected, and then they went on ata quick pace, and in less than two hours the cottage was in sight. When within two hundred yards of it, Edith, who had been on the watch, came bounding out, and flew into Edward's arms, and covered him withkisses. 

"You naughty Edward, to frighten us so!"

"Look, Edith, I have brought you a nice little playfellow. Welcomehim, dearest. "

Edith extended her hand as she looked into the boy's face. 

"He is a pretty boy, Edward, much prettier than Pablo. "

"No, Missy Edith, " said Pablo; "Pablo more man than he. " "Yes, you maybe more man, Pablo; but you are not so pretty. "

"And where is Alice?"

"She was getting supper ready, and I did not tell her that I saw youcoming, because I wanted first kiss. "

"You little jealous thing! but here comes Alice. Dear Alice, you havebeen very uneasy, but it was not my fault, " said Edward, kissing her. "If I had not been where I was, this poor boy would have been killedas well as his father. Make him welcome, Alice, for he is an orphannow, and must live with us. I have brought many things in the cart, and tomorrow we will bring more, for we have no bed for him, and to-night he must sleep with me. "

"We will make him as happy as we can, Edward; and we will be sistersto him, " said Alice, looking at the boy, who was blushing deeply. "Howold are you, and what is your name?"

"I shall be thirteen years old next January, " replied the boy. 

"And your Christian name?"

"I will tell you by-and-by, " replied he, confused. 

They arrived at the cottage, and Edward and Pablo were busy unpackingthe cart, and putting all the contents into the inner chamber, wherePablo now slept, when Alice, who, with Edith, had been talking to theboy, came to Edward and said, "Edward, she's a girl!"

"A girl!" replied Edward, astonished. 

"Yes, she has told me so, and wished me to tell you. "

"But why does she wear boys' clothes?"

"It was her father's wish, as he was very often obliged to send her toLymington to a friend's house, and he was afraid of her getting intotrouble; but she has not told me her story as yet--she says that shewill to-night. "

"Well, then, " replied Edward, "you must make up a bed for her in yourroom to-night. Take Pablo's bed, and he shall sleep with me. To-morrowmorning I will bring some more bedding from her cottage. "

"How Humphrey will be surprised when he comes back!" said Alice, laughing. . 

"Yes; she will make a nice little wife for him some years hence; andshe may prove an heiress, perhaps, for there is an iron chest withmoney in it. "

Alice returned to her new companion, and Edward and Pablo continued tounload the cart. 

"Well, Pablo, I suppose you will allow that, now that you know she isa girl, she is handsomer than you?"

"Oh yes, " replied Pablo, "very handsome girl; but too much girl forhandsome boy. "

At last every thing was out of the cart, the iron chest dragged intoPablo's room, and Billy put into his stable and given his supper, which he had well earned, for the cart had been very heavily loaded. They then all sat down to supper, Edward saying to their newacquaintance, "So I find that I am to have another sister instead of anotherbrother. Now you will tell me your name?"

"Yes; Clara is my name. "

"And why did you not tell me that you were a girl?"

"I did not like, because I was in boys' clothes, and felt ashamed;indeed I was too unhappy to think about what I was. My poor dearfather!" and she burst into tears. 

Alice and Edith kissed her and consoled her, and she became calmagain. After supper was over, they busied themselves makingarrangements for her sleeping in their room, and then they went toprayers. 

"We have much to be thankful for, my dears, " said Edward. "I am sure Ifeel that I have been in great danger, and I only wish that I had beenmore useful than I have been; but it has been the will of God, and wemust not arraign his decrees. Let us return thanks for his greatmercies, and bow in submission to his dispensations, and pray that hewill give peace to poor little Clara, and soften her affliction. "

And as Edward prayed, little Clara knelt and sobbed, while Alicecaressed her with her arm round her waist, and stopped at times herprayer to kiss and console her. When they had finished, Alice led heraway to her bedroom, followed by Edith, and they put her to bed. Edward and Pablo also retired, both worn out by the fatigue andexcitement of the day. 

They were up on the following morning at day-dawn, and, putting Billyin the cart, set off for the cottage of Clara. They found every thingas they had left it, and, having loaded the cart with what had beenleft behind the day before, and bedding for two beds, with severalarticles of furniture which Edward thought might be useful, therebeing still a little room left, Edward packed up, in a wooden casewith dried fern, all the wine that was in the cupboard; and, havingassisted Pablo in forcing the cart once more through the path in thewood, he left him to return home with the cart, while he remained towait the arrival of Humphrey, and whoever might come with him from theintendant's. About ten o'clock, as he was watching outside of thewood, he perceived several people approaching him, and soon made outthat Humphrey, the intendant, and Oswald were among the number. Whenthey came up to him, Edward saluted the intendant in a respectfulmanner, and shook hands with Oswald, and then led the way by thenarrow path which led through the wood to the cottage. The intendantwas on horseback, but all the rest were on foot. 

The intendant left his horse to the care of one of the verderers, andwent through the wood on foot with the rest of the party, preceded byEdward. He appeared to be very grave and thoughtful, and Edwardthought that there was a coolness in his manner toward himself--for itmust be recollected that Mr. Heatherstone had not seen Edward since hehad rendered him such service in saving the life of his daughter. Theconsequence was that Edward felt somewhat indignant; but he did notexpress his feelings, by his looks even, but conveyed the party insilence to the cottage. On their arrival, Edward pointed to the bodyof the robber, which had been covered with fern, and the verderersexposed it. 

"By whose hand did that man fall?" said the intendant. 

"By the hand of the party who lived in the cottage. "

Edward then led the way round to the back of the cottage where theother robber lay--

"And this man was slain by my hand, " replied Edward. 

"We have one more body to see, " continued Edward, leading the way intothe cottage, and uncovering the corpse of Clara's father. 

Mr. Heatherstone looked at the face and appeared much moved. "Cover itup, " said he, turning away; and then sitting down on a chair close tothe table--

"And how was this found?" he said. 

"I neither saw this person killed, nor the robber you first saw, but Iheard the report of the firearms at almost the same moment, and Ipresume that they fell by each other's hands. "

The intendant called his clerk, who had accompanied him, and desiredhim to get ready his writing materials, and then said--

"Edward Armitage, we will now take down your deposition as to what hasoccurred. "

Edward then commenced by stating, "that he was out in the forest andhad lost his way, and was seeking a path home. "

"You were out in the forest during the night?

"Yes, sir, I was. "

"With your gun?"

"I always carry my gun, " replied Edward. 

"In pursuit of game?"

"No, sir; I was not. I have never been out in pursuit of game duringnight-time in my life. "

"What were you then about? you did not go out for nothing?"

"I went out to commune with my own thoughts; I was restless, and Iwandered about without knowing where I went, and that is the reasonwhy I lost my way. "

"And pray what may have excited you?"

"I will tell you: I was over with Oswald Partridge the day before; youhad just arrived from London, and he gave me the news that KingCharles had been proclaimed in Scotland, and that news unsettled me. "

"Well, proceed. "

Edward met with no more interruption in his narrative. He statedbriefly all that had taken place, from the time he fell in with therobbers till the winding up of the catastrophe. 

The clerk took down all that Edward had stated, and then read it overto him to ascertain if he had written it down correctly, and theninquired of Edward "if he could read and write?"

"I should hope so, " replied Edward, taking the pen and signing hisname. 

The clerk stared, and then said--"People in your condition do notoften know how to read and write, Mr. Forester, and therefore you neednot be offended at the question. "

"Very true, " replied Edward. "May I ask if my presence is consideredany longer to be necessary?"

"You stated that there was a boy in the house, young man, " said theintendant: "what has become of him?"

"He is removed to my cottage. "

"Why did you do so?"

"Because when his father died I promised to him that I would take careof his child; and I intend to keep my word. "

"You had spoken with him, then, before he died?" said the intendant. 

"Not so; it was all carried on by signs on his part, but it was asintelligible as if he spoke, and what I replied he well understood;and I really think I removed a great anxiety off his mind by givinghim the promise. "

The intendant paused, and then said--"I perceive that some articleshave been removed--the bedding, for instance--have you taken any thingaway?"

"I have removed bedding, for I had no bed to offer to the lad, and hetold me that the cottage and furniture belonged to his father; ofcourse by his father's death it became his, and I felt that I waswarranted in so doing. "

"May I ask, did you remove any papers?"

"I can not tell; the lad packed up his own things; there were someboxes removed, which were locked up, and the contents are to me whollyunknown. I could not leave the boy here in this scene of death, and Icould not well leave the property belonging to him to be at the mercyof any other plunderers of the forest. I did as I considered right forthe benefit of the boy, and in accordance with the solemn promisewhich I made to his father. "

"Still the property should not have been removed. The party who nowlies dead there is a well-known Malignant. "

"How do you know that, sir?" interrupted Edward; "did you recognizehim when you saw the body?"

"I did not say that I did, " replied the intendant. 

"You either must have so done, sir. " replied Edward, "or you must havebeen aware that he was residing in this cottage: you have to choosebetween. "

"You are bold, young man, " replied the intendant, "and I will reply toyour observation. I did recognize the party when I saw his face, and Iknew him to be one who was condemned to death, and who escaped fromprison a few days before the one appointed for his execution. I heardsearch had been made for him, but in vain, and it was supposed that hehad escaped beyond the seas. Now his papers may be the means of givingthe Parliament information against others as well as himself. "

"And enable them to commit a few more murders, " added Edward. 

"Silence, young man; the authorities must not be spoken of in soirreverent a manner. Are you aware that your language is treasonable?"

"According to act of Parliament, as now present constituted, it maybe, " replied Edward, "but as a loyal subject of King Charles theSecond, I deny it. "

"I have no concern with your loyalty, young man, but I will not admitany language to be uttered in my presence against the ruling powers. The inquest is over. Let every one leave the house except EdwardArmitage, to whom I would speak alone. "

"Excuse me one moment, sir, " said Edward, "and I will return. "

Edward went out with the rest, and, calling Humphrey aside, said tohim, "Contrive to slip away unperceived; here are the keys; haste tothe cottage as fast as you can; look for all tho papers you can findin the packages taken there; bury them and the iron chest in thegarden, or anywhere where they can not be discovered. "

Humphrey nodded and turned away, and Edward re-entered the cottage. 

He found the intendant was standing over the corpse; he had removedthe coverlid, and was looking mournfully down on the face disfiguredwith blood. Perceiving the entrance of Edward, he again took his seatat the table, and after a pause said, "Edward Armitage, that you have been brought up very superior to yourstation in life is certain; and that you are loyal, bold, and resoluteis equally so; you have put me under an obligation which I never canrepay, even if you allowed me to exert myself in your behalf. I takethis opportunity of acknowledging it; and now allow me to say, that, for these times, you are much too frank and impetuous. This is no timefor people to give vent to their feelings and opinions. Even I am asmuch surrounded with spies as others, and am obliged to behave myselfaccordingly. Your avowed attachment to the king's cause has preventedme from showing that more than cordiality that I really feel for you, and to which you are in every way entitled. "

"I can not conceal my opinions, sir; I was brought up in the house ofa loyal Cavalier, and never will be otherwise. "

"Granted--why should you be? but do you not yourself see that you dothe cause more harm than good by thus avowing your opinions when suchavowal is useless? If every other man in the county, who is of youropinion, was to express himself, now that your cause is hopeless, asyou have done, the prisons would be crowded, the executions would bedayly, and the cause would be, in proportion, weakened by the loss ofthe most daring. 'Bide your time' is a good motto, and I recommend itto you. You must feel that, however we may be at variance in ouropinions, Edward Armitage, my hand and my authority never can be usedagainst one to whom I am so indebted; and, feeling this, you compelme, in the presence of others, to use a harshness and coldness towardyou, contrary, wholly contrary, to what, you may believe me when I sayit, I really feel for one who so nobly rescued my only child. "

"I thank you, sir, for your advice, which I feel to be good, and foryour good opinion, which I value. "

"And which I feel that you deserve; and you shall have, young as youare, my confidence, which I know you will not abuse. I did know thisman who now lies dead before us, and I did also know that he wasconcealed in this cottage; Major Ratcliffe was one of my earliest anddearest friends, and until this unhappy civil war, there never was anydifference between us, and even afterward only in politics, and thecause we each espoused. I knew, before I came down here as intendant, where his place of concealment was, and have been most anxious for hissafety. "

"Excuse me, Mr. Heatherstone, but each day I find more to make me likeyou than I did the day before; at first I felt most inimical; now Ionly wonder how you can be leagued with the party you now are. "

"Edward Armitage, I will now answer for myself and thousands more. Youare too young a man to have known the cause of the insurrection, or, rather, opposition, to the unfortunate King Charles. He attempted tomake himself absolute, and to wrest the liberties from the people ofEngland: that his warmest adherents will admit. When I joined theparty which opposed him, I little thought that matters would have beencarried so far as they have been; I always considered it lawful totake up arms in defense of our liberties, but at the same time Iequally felt that the person of the king was sacred. "

"I have heard so, sir. "

"Yes, and in truth; for never did any people strive more zealously toprevent the murder of the king--for murder it was--than my relativeAshley Cooper and myself--so much so, indeed, as to have incurred notonly the suspicion but the ill-will of Cromwell, who, I fear, is nowmaking rapid advances toward that absolute authority for which theking has suffered, and which he would now vest in his own person. Iconsidered that our cause was just; and, had the power been left inthe hands of those who would have exercised it with discretion andmoderation, the king would even now have been on the throne, and theliberties of his subjects sacred; but it is easier to put a vast andpowerful engine into motion than to stop it, and such has been thecase in this unfortunate civil war. Thousands who took an active partagainst the king will, when the opportunity is ripe, retrace theirsteps; but I expect that we have much to suffer before that time willcome. And now, Edward Armitage, I have said more to you than I have toany person breathing, except my own kinsman. "

"I thank you for your confidence, sir, which not only will not bebetrayed, but will act as a warning to guide my future conduct. "

"I meant it should. Be no longer rash and careless in avowing youropinions. You can do no good to the cause, and may do yourself muchharm. And now I must ask you another question, which I could notbefore the other people. You have surprised me by stating that MajorRatcliffe had a son here; there must be some mistake, or the boy mustbe an impostor. He had a daughter, an only daughter, as I have; but henever had a son. "

"It is a mistake that I fell into, sir, by finding a boy here, as Istated to you at the inquest; and I considered it to be a boy, until Ibrought her home, and she then discovered to my sisters that she was agirl dressed in boys' clothes. I did not give that as explanation atthe inquest, as it was not necessary. "

"I am right, then. I must relieve you of that charge, Edward Armitage;she shall be to me as a daughter, and I trust that you will agree withme, without any disparagement to your feelings, that my house will bea more fit residence for her than your cottage. "

"I will not prevent her going, if she wishes it, after yourexplanation and confidence, Mr. Heatherstone. "

"One thing more. As I said to you before, Edward Armitage, I believemany of these verderers, all of which have been selected from thearmy, are spies upon me: I must therefore be careful. You said thatyou were not aware that there were any papers?"

"I saw none, sir; but I suspect, from the many locked-up trunks andsmall boxes, that there may be; but when I went out with the othersfrom the inquest, I dispatched my brother Humphrey to the cottage, advising him to open all the locks and to remove any papers which hemight find. "

The intendant smiled. 

"Well, if such is the case, we have only to go to your cottage andmake an examination. We shall find nothing, and I shall have performedmy duty. I was not aware that your brother was here. I presume it wasthe young man who walked with Oswald Partridge. "

"It was, sir. "

"By his appearance, I presume that he, also, was brought up atArnwood?"

"He was, sir, as well as I, " replied Edward. 

"Well, then, I have but one word more to say--recollect, if I appearharsh and severe in the presence of others, it is only assumed towardyou, and not real. You understand that?"

"I do, sir, and beg you will exercise your discretion. "

The intendant then went out and said to the party, "It appears fromwhat I can extract from this lad Armitage, that there are boxes whichhe removed to his cottage; we will go there to see what they maycontain. It is now noon. Have you any refreshment to offer us in yourcottage, young man, when we arrive?"

"I keep no hostelry, sir, " replied Edward, somewhat gloomily; "my ownlabor and my brother's is sufficient for the support of my own family, but no more. "

"Let us move on; and two of you keep your eye upon that young man, "said the intendant aside. 

They then proceeded through the wood; the intendant mounted his horse, and they set off for the cottage, where they arrived at about twoo'clock in the afternoon. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

Humphrey came out as soon as he perceived the intendant and his partyapproaching, and whispered to Edward that all was safe. The intendantdismounted, and ordering every body but his clerk to wait outside, wasushered into the cottage by Edward. Alice, Edith, and Pablo were inthe room; the two girls were not a little flushed and frightened bythe unusual appearance of so large a party of strangers. 

"These are my sisters, sir, " said Edward. "Where is Clara, Alice?"

"She is alarmed, and has gone into our bedroom. "

"I hope you are not alarmed at my presence, " said the intendant, looking earnestly at the two girls. "It is my duty which obliges me topay this visit; but you have nothing to fear. Now, Edward Armitage, you must produce all the boxes and packages which you took from thecottage. "

"I will, sir, " replied Edward, "and here are the keys. Humphrey, doyou and Pablo bring them out. "

The boxes were brought out, opened, and examined by the intendant andhis clerk, but of course no papers were found in them. 

"I must now send in two of my people to search the house, " said theintendant. "Had you not better go to the little girl, that she may notbe frightened?"

"I will go to her, " said Alice. 

Two of the people, assisted by the clerk, then searched the house;they found nothing worthy of notice, except the weapons and armorwhich Edward had removed, and which he stated to the intendant that hetook away as valuable property belonging to the little girl. 

"It is sufficient, " said the intendant to his clerk; "undoubtedlythere are no papers; but I must, before I go, interrogate this childwho has been removed thus; but she will be frightened, and I shallobtain no answer from her, if we are so many, so let every body leavethe cottage while I speak to her. "

The clerk and the others left the cottage, and the intendant desiredEdward to bring Clara from the bedroom. She came out, accompanied byand clinging indeed to Alice, for she was much alarmed. 

"Come here, Clara, " said the intendant, gently; "you do not knowperhaps that I am your sincere friend; and now that your father isdead, I want you to come and live with my daughter, who will bedelighted to have you as a companion. Will you go with me, and I willtake care of you and be a father to you?"

"I do not like to leave Alice and Edith; they treat me so kindly, andcall me sister, " replied Clara, sobbing. 

"I am sure they do, and that you must be fond of them already, butstill it is your duty to come with me; and if your father could speakto you now, he would tell you so. I will not force you away; butremember, you are born a lady, and must be brought up and educated asa lady, which can not be the case in this cottage, although they arevery kind to you, and very nice young people. You do not recollect me, Clara; but you have often sat on my knee when you were a little girland when your father lived in Dorsetshire. You recollect the greatwalnut-tree by the sitting-room window, which looked out in thegarden; don't you?"

"Yes, " replied Clara, with surprise. 

"Yes, so do I too, and how you used to sit on my knee; and do youremember Jason, the big mastiff, and how you used to ride upon hisback?"

"Yes, " replied Clara, "I do; but he died a long while ago. "

"He did, when you were not more than six years old. And now tell me, where did the old gardener bury him?"

"Under the mulberry-tree, " replied Clara. 

"Yes, so he did, and I was there when poor Jason was buried. You don'trecollect me. But I will take off my hat, for I did not wear the samedress that I do now. Now look, Clara, and see if you remember me. "

Clara, who was no longer alarmed, looked on the intendant's face, andthen said, "You called my father Philip, and he used to call youCharles. "

"You are right, my sweet one, " replied the intendant, pressing Clarato his bosom; "I did so, and we were great friends. Now, will you comewith me? and I have a little girl, older than you by three or fouryears, who will be your companion, and love you dearly. "

"May I come and see Alice and Edith sometimes?"

"Yes, you shall, and she will come with you and make theiracquaintance, if their brother will permit it. I will not take youaway now, dearest; you shall remain here for a few days, and then wewill come over and fetch you. I will send Oswald Partridge over to letyou know the day, Edward Armitage, when we will come for her. Good-by, dear Clara; and good-by, my little girls. Humphrey Armitage, good-by. Who is this lad you have here?"

"He is a gipsy whom Humphrey trapped in his pitfall, sir, and we havesoon tamed him, " replied Edward. 

"Well, then, Edward Armitage, good-by, " said the intendant, extendinghis hand to him, "we must meet soon again. "

The intendant then went out of the cottage, and joined his peopleoutside. Edward went out after him; and as the intendant mounted hishorse, he said very coldly to Edward, "I shall keep a sharp look-outon your proceedings, sir, depend upon it; I tell you so decidedly, sofare you well. "

With these words the intendant put the spurs to his horse, and rodeaway. 

"What made him speak so sharply to you, Edward?" said Humphrey. 

"Because he means kindly, but does not want other people to know it, "replied Edward. "Come in, Humphrey; I have much to tell you and muchto surprise you with. "

"I have been surprised already, " replied Humphrey. "How did thisRoundhead know Clara's father so well?"

"I will explain all before we go to bed, " replied Edward; "let us goin now. "

The two brothers had a long conversation that evening, in which Edwardmade Humphrey acquainted with all that had passed between him and theintendant. 

"It's my opinion, Edward, " said Humphrey, "that he thinks matters havebeen carried too far, and that he is sorry that he belongs to theParliamentary party. He finds out, now that it is too late, that hehas allied himself with those who have very different feelings andmotives than his own, and has assisted to put power into the hands ofthose who have not the scruples which he has. "

"Yes, and in ridding themselves of one tyranny, as they considered it, they have every prospect of falling into the hands of a greater tyrantthan before; for, depend upon it, Cromwell will assume the sovereignpower, and rule this kingdom with a rod of iron. "

"Well, many more are, I have no doubt, or soon will be, of hisopinion; and the time will come, be it sooner or later, when the kingwill have his own again. They have proclaimed him in Scotland already. Why does he not come over and show himself? His presence would, Ithink, induce thousands to flock to him; I'm sure that it would me. "

"I am very glad of this good intelligence with the intendant, Edward, as it will not now be necessary for us to be so careful; we may go andcome when we please. I almost wish you could be persuaded to acceptany eligible offer he may make you. Many, no doubt, are in office, andserving the present government, who have the same feelings as theintendant, or even feelings as strong as your own. "

"I can not bear the idea of accepting any thing from them or theirinstruments, Humphrey; nor, indeed, could I leave my sisters. "

"On that score you may make your mind easy: Pablo and I are quitesufficient for the farm, or any thing else we may want to do. If youcan be more useful elsewhere, have no scruple in leaving us. If theking was to come and raise an army, you would leave us, of course; andI see no reason why, if an eligible offer is made you, you should notdo it now. You and your talents are thrown away in this forest; andyou might serve the king and the king's cause better by going into theworld and watching the times than you ever can by killing hisvenison. "

"Certainly, " replied Edward, laughing, "I do not much help his causeby killing his deer, that must be admitted; all I shall say is this, if any thing is offered to me which I can accept without injury to myfeelings and my honor, I shall not decline it, provided that I may, byaccepting it, prove of service to the king's cause. "

"That is all I wish, Edward. And now I think we had better go to bed. "

The next day they dug up the iron chest and the box into whichHumphrey had put all the papers he had collected together. Edwardopened the iron chest, and found in it a considerable quantity of goldin bags, and many trinkets and jewels which he did not know the valueof. The papers he did not open, but resolved that they should be givento the intendant, for Edward felt that he could trust in him. Theother boxes and trunks were also opened and examined, and many otherarticles of apparent value discovered. 

"I should think all these jewels worth a great deal of money, Humphrey, " said Edward; if so, all the better for poor little Clara. Iam sorry to part with her, although we have known her so short a time;she appears to be such an amiable and affectionate child. "

"That she is; and certainly the handsomest little girl I ever saw. What beautiful eyes! Do you know that on one of her journeys toLymington she was very nearly taken by a party of gipsies? and by whatPablo can make out, it would appear that it was by the party to whichhe belonged. "

"I wonder at her father permitting her to go alone such a distance. "

"Her father could not do otherwise. Necessity has no law. He couldtrust no other person, so he put her in boys' clothes that there mightbe less risk. Still, she must have been very intelligent to have donethe office. "

"She is thirteen years old, although she is small, " replied Edward. "And intelligent she certainly is, as you may see by her countenance. Who would ever have imagined that our sisters would have been able todo what they are doing now? It's an old saying, 'We never know what wecan do till we try. ' By-the-by Humphrey, I met a famous herd of forestponies the other day, and I said to myself, 'I wonder whether Humphreywill be clever enough to take one of them, as he has the wild cattle?'For Billy is getting old, and we want a successor. "

"We want more than a successor to Billy, Edward: we want two more tohelp him--and I have the means of maintaining two more ponies if Icould catch them. "

"I fear that you will never manage that, Humphrey, " said Edward, laughing. 

"I know well what you mean, " replied Humphrey: "you wish to dare me toit--well. I won't be dared to any thing, and I most certainly will tryto catch a pony or two; but I must think about it first, and when Ihave arranged my plan in my mind, I will then make the attempt. "

"When I see the ponies in the yard, I will believe it, Humphrey. Theyare as wild as deer and as fleet as the wind, and you can not catchthem in a pitfall. "

"I know that, good brother; but all I can say is, that I will try whatI can do, and I can do no more--but not at present, for I am toobusy. "

Three days after this conversation, Oswald Partridge made hisappearance, having been sent by the intendant to tell Edward that heshould come over on the following day to take away little Clara. 

"And how is she to go?" said Edward. 

"He will bring a little nag for her, if she can ride--if she can not, she must ride in the cart which will come for the baggage. "

"Clara, can you ride a horse?"

"Yes, " replied Clara, "if it does not jump about too much. I alwaysrode one when I lived in Dorsetshire. "

"This won't jump about, my little lady, " said Oswald, "for he isthirty years old, I believe, and as steady as an old gentleman oughtto be. "

"I have had some conversation with Master Heatherstone, " continuedOswald to Edward. "He is much pleased with you, I can tell you. Hesaid that in times like these he required young men like you abouthim; and that, as you would not take the berth of verderer, he mustfind one better suited for you; for he said you were too good for suchan office. "

"Many thanks to him for his good opinion, " replied Edward; "but I donot think that he has any office in his gift which I can accept. "

"So I thought, but I said nothing. He again asked many questionsrelative to old Jacob Armitage, and he pressed me very hard. He saidthat Humphrey was as much above his position in appearance as youwere, but as he was brought up at Arnwood, he presumed that he had hadthe same advantages. And then he said--'But were his two sistersbrought up at Arnwood also?' I replied, that I believed not, althoughthey were often there, and were allowed to play with the children ofthe house. He looked at me steadfastly, as if he would read mythoughts, and then went on writing. I can not help thinking that hehas a suspicion that you are not the grandchildren of old Jacob; butat the same time I do not think that he has an idea who you reallyare. "

"You must keep our secret, Oswald, " replied Edward. "I have a verygood opinion of the intendant, I acknowledge; but I will trustnobody. "

"As I hope for future mercy, sir, I never will divulge it until youbid me, " replied Oswald. 

"I trust to you, Oswald, and so there's an end of the matter. But tellme, Oswald, what do they say about his taking charge of this littlegirl?"

"Why, they did begin to talk about it; but when he gave out that itwas the order of Parliament that the child should remain with himuntil further directions, of course they said nothing, for they darednot. It seems that the Ratcliffe property is sequestrated, but not yetgranted to any one; and the Parliament will most likely, as soon asshe is old enough, give her as a wife, with the property, to one oftheir party; they have done it before now, as it secures the propertyunder all changes. "

"I perceive, " replied Edward. "When did you hear that the little girlwas to live with him?"

"Not till yesterday morning; and it was not till the evening that weknew it was the order of Parliament. "

Edward did not think it right to tell Oswald what he knew, as it was asecret confided to him by the intendant, and therefore merelyobserved--"I presumed that the child would not be permitted to remainon our hands;" and then the conversation dropped. 

As Oswald had informed them, the intendant made his appearance in theforenoon of the following day, and was accompanied by his daughter, who rode by his side. A groom, on horse, led a pony for Clara to ride;and a cart for the luggage followed at some distance. Edward went outto assist Miss Heatherstone to dismount, and she frankly extended herhand to him as she reached the ground. Edward was a little surprisedas well as pleased, at this condescension on her part toward aforester. 

"You do me much honor, Mistress Patience, " said he, bowing. 

"I can not forget that I owe my life to you, Master Armitage, " repliedPatience, "and I can not be too grateful. May I request another favorof you?"

"Certainly, if it is in my power to do as you wish. "

"It is this, " said she, in a low voice--"that you will not hastilyreject any overtures which may be made to you by my father; that isall. And now let me go in and see your sisters, for my father haspraised them very much, and I wish to know them. "

Edward led the way into the cottage, and Patience followed him, whilethe intendant was in conversation with Humphrey. Edward, havingintroduced his sisters and Clara, then went out to pay his respects tothe intendant, who, now they were alone, was very candid toward bothhim and Humphrey. 

Edward then told the intendant that there was an iron chest with agood deal of money in it, and jewels also, and many other articles ofvalue in the other boxes. 

"I fear, sir, that the cart will hardly hold all the goods. "

"I do not intend to take away the heavy or more bulky articles, suchas the bedding, armor, &c. I will only take Clara's own packages, andthe valuables and papers. The remainder may stay here, as they can beof no use, till they are demanded from you. Where is OswaldPartridge?"

"In the stable with the horses, sir, " replied Humphrey. 

"Then, when the cart is loaded--and it had better be done by you whilethe men are in the stable--Oswald shall take charge of it, and takethe things to my house. "

"Here are the keys, sir, " said Edward, presenting them. 

"Good. And now, Edward Armitage, that we are alone, I want to have alittle conversation with you. You are aware how much I feel indebtedto you for the service you have rendered me, and how anxious I am toshow my gratitude. You are born for better things than to remain anobscure forester, and perhaps a deer-stalker. I have now an offer tomake to you, which I trust, upon reflection, you will not refuse--andI say reflection, because I do not wish you to give an answer till youhave well reflected. I know that you will not accept any thing underthe present government; but a private situation you can raise noobjection to; the more so as, so far from leaving your family, youwill be more in a position to protect them. I am in want of asecretary, and I wish you to accept that office, to live entirely inmy house, and to receive a handsome salary for your services, whichwill not, I trust, be too heavy. You will be near to your family herein the cottage, and be able to protect them and assist them; and whatis more, you will mix with the world and know what is going on, as Iam in the confidence of the government. Of course, I put implicitconfidence in you, or I would not offer the situation. But you willnot be always down here: I have my correspondents and friends, to whomI shall have to send you occasionally on most trusty missions. You, Iam sure, will suit me in every respect, and I hope you will undertakethe post which I now offer to you. Give me no answer just now; consultwith your brother, and give the offer due consideration, and when youhave made up your mind you can let me know. "

Edward bowed, and the intendant went into the cottage. 

Edward then assisted Humphrey and Pablo to get the iron chest on thecart, and covered it with the other packages and boxes, till the cartwas well loaded. Leaving Pablo in charge till Oswald came from thestables, Edward and Humphrey then went into the cottage, where theyfound a very social party; Patience Heatherstone having succeeded inmaking great friends with the other three girls, and the intendant, toEdward's surprise, laughing and joking with them. Alice and Edith hadbrought out some milk, biscuits, and all the fruit that was ripe, withsome bread, a cold piece of salt beef, and a ham; and they were eatingas well as talking. 

"I have been praising your sisters' house-keeping, Armitage, " said theintendant. "Your farm appears to be very productive. "

"Alice expected Miss Heatherstone, sir, " replied Edward, "and made anunusual provision. You must not think that we live on such fare everyday. "

"No, " replied the intendant, dryly; "on other days I dare say you haveother fare. I would almost make a bet that there is a pasty in thecupboard which you dare not show to the intendant of the New Forest. "

"You are mistaken, sir, for once, " replied Humphrey. "Alice knows wellhow to make one, but she has not one just now. "

"Well, I must believe you, Master Humphrey, " replied the intendant. "And now, my dear child, we must think of going, for it is a longride, and the little girl is not used to a horse. "

"Mistress Alice, many thanks for your hospitality; and now, farewell. Edith, good-by, dear. Now, Clara, are you quite ready?"

They all went out of the cottage. The intendant put Clara on the pony, after she had kissed Alice and Edith. Edward assisted Patience; andwhen she was mounted, she said--

"I hope you will accept my father's offer--you will oblige me so muchif you do. "

"I will give it every consideration it deserves, " replied Edward. "Indeed, it will depend more upon my brother than myself whether Iaccept it or not. "

"Your brother is a very sensible young man, sir; therefore, I havehopes, " replied Patience. 

"A quality which it appears you do not give me credit for, MissHeatherstone. "

"Not when pride or vindictive feelings obtain the mastery, " repliedshe. 

"Perhaps you will find that I am not quite so proud, or bear such ill-will, as I did when I first saw your father, Miss Heatherstone; andsome allowance should be made, even if I did show such feelings, whenyou consider that I was brought up at Arnwood. "

"True--most true, Master Armitage. I had no right to speak so boldly, especially to you, who risked your own life to save the daughter ofone of those Roundheads who treated the family of your protector socruelly. You must forgive me; and now, farewell!"

Edward bowed, and then turned to the intendant, who had apparentlybeen waiting while the conversation was going on. The intendant badehim a cordial farewell; Edward shook Clara by the hand, and thecavalcade set off. They all remained outside of the cottage till theparty were at some distance, and then Edward walked apart withHumphrey, to communicate to him the offer made by the intendant, andask his opinion. 

"My opinion is made up, Edward, which is that you should accept itimmediately. You are under no obligation to the government, and youhave already conferred such an obligation upon the intendant that youhave a right to expect a return. Why stay here, when you can safelymix with the world and know how things are going on? I do not requireyour assistance, now that I have Pablo, who is more useful every day. Do not lose such an opportunity of making a friend for yourself andall of us--a protector, I may say--and who is, by what he has confidedto you, any thing but approving of the conduct of the presentgovernment. He has paid you a deserved compliment by saying that hecan and will trust you. You must not refuse the offer, Edward--itwould really be folly if you did. "

"I believe you are right, Humphrey; but I have been so accustomed torange the forest--I am so fond of the chase--I am so impatient ofcontrol or confinement, that I hardly know how to decide. Asecretary's life is any thing but pleasing to me, sitting at a tablewriting and reading all day long. The pen is a poor exchange for thelong-barreled gun. "

"It does more execution, nevertheless, " replied Humphrey, "if what Ihave read is true. But you are not to suppose that your life will besuch a sedentary one. Did he not say that he would have to trust youwith missions of importance? Will you not, by going to London andother places, and mixing with people of importance, be preparingyourself for your proper station in life, which I trust that one dayyou will resume? And does it follow, that because you are appointed asecretary, you are not to go out in the forest and shoot a deer withOswald, if you feel inclined--with this difference, that you may do itthen without fear of being insulted or persecuted by such a wretch asthat Corbould? Do not hesitate any longer, my dear brother; recollectthat our sisters ought not to live this forest life as they advance inyears--they were not born for it, although they have so well conformedto it. It depends upon you to release them eventually from their falseposition; and you can never have such an opening as is now offeredyou, by one whose gratitude alone will make him anxious to serve you. "

"You are right, Humphrey, and I will accept the offer; I can butreturn to you if things do not go on well. "

"I thank you sincerely for your decision, Edward, " replied Humphrey. "What a sweet girl that Patience Heatherstone is! I think I never sawsuch an enchanting smile!"

Edward thought of the smile she gave him when they parted but an hourago, and agreed with Humphrey, but he replied--

"Why, brother, you are really in love with the intendant's daughter. "

"Not so, my dear brother; but I am in love with her goodness andsweetness of disposition, and so are Alice and Edith, I can tell you. She has promised to come over and see them, and bring them flowers fortheir garden, and I hardly know what; and I am very glad of it, as mysisters have been buried here so long, that they can not but gain byher company now and then. No! I will leave Mistress Heatherstone foryou; I am in love with little Clara. "

"Not a bad choice, Humphrey: we both aspire high, for two youngforesters, do we not? However, they say 'Every dog has his day, ' andCromwell and his Parliament may have theirs. King Charles may be onhis throne again now, long before you catch a forest pony, Humphrey. "

"I hope he will, Edward; but recollect how you laughed at the idea ofmy catching a cow--you may be surprised a second time. 'Where there isa will there is a way, ' the saying is. But I must go and help Alicewith the heifer: she is not very quiet yet, and I see her going outwith her pail. "

The brothers then parted, and Edward then walked about, turning overin his mind the events of the day, and very often finding his thoughtsbroken in upon by sudden visions of Patience Heatherstone--andcertainly the remembrance of her was to him the most satisfactory andpleasing portion of the prospect in his offered situation. 

"I shall live with her, and be continually in her company, " thoughthe. "Well, I would take a less pleasing office if only for that. Sherequested me to accept it to oblige her, and I will do so. How hastywe are in our conclusions! When I first saw her father, what anaversion I felt for him! Now, the more I know him the more I like him, nay, more--respect him. He said that the king wished to be absolute, and wrest the liberties from his subjects, and that they werejustified in opposing him; I never heard that when at Arnwood. "

"If so, was it lawful so to do?"

"I think it was, but not to murder him; that I can never admit, nordoes the intendant; on the contrary, he holds his murderers in asgreat detestation as I do. Why, then, we do not think far apart fromone another. At the commencement, the two parties were those whosupported him, not admitting that he was right, but too loyal torefuse to fight for their king; and those who opposed, hoping to forcehim to do right; the king for his supposed prerogatives, the peoplefor their liberties. The king was obstinate, the people resolute, until virulent warfare inflamed both parties, and neither would listento reason; and the people gained the upper hand--they wreaked theirvengeance, instead of looking to the dictates of humanity and justice. How easy it had been to have deposed him, and have sent him beyond theseas! instead of which they detained him a prisoner and then murderedhim. The punishment was greater than the offense, and dictated bymalice and revenge; it was a diabolical act, and will soil the page ofour nation's history. " So thought Edward, as he paced before thecottage, until he was summoned in by Pablo to their evening meal. 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

"Edward, " said Edith, "scold Pablo; he has been ill-treating my poorcat; he is a cruel boy. "

Pablo laughed. 

"See, Edward, he's laughing; put him in the pitfall again, and let himstay there till he says he's sorry. "

"I very sorry now, Missy Edith--but cat bite me, " said Pablo. 

"Well, if pussy did, it didn't hurt you much; and what did I tell youthis morning out of the Bible?--that you must forgive them who behaveill to you. "

"Yes, Missy Edith, you tell me all that, and so I do; I forgive pussy'cause she bite me, but I kick her for it. "

"That's not forgiveness, is it, Edward? You should have forgiven it atonce, and not kicked it at all. "

"Miss Edith, when pussy bite me, pussy hurt me, make me angry, and Igive her a kick; then I think what you tell me, and I do as you tellme. I forgive pussy with all my heart. "

"I think you must forgive Pablo, Edith, " said Edward, "if it is onlyto set him a good example. "

"Well, I will this time; but if he kicks pussy again he must be put inthe pitfall--mind that, Pablo. "

"Yes, Missy Edith, I go into pitfall, and then you cry, and ask MasterEdward to take me out. When you have me put in pitfall, then you notgood Christian, 'cause you not forgive; when you cry and take me out, then you good Christian once more. "

By this conversation it will appear to the reader that they had beentrying to impress Pablo with the principles of the Christian religion--and such was the case; Edith having been one of the most active inthe endeavor, although very young for a missionary. However, Alice andHumphrey had been more successful, and Pablo was now beginning tocomprehend what they had attempted to instill, and was reallyprogressing dayly. 

Edward remained at the cottage, expecting to bear some message fromthe intendant. He was right in his conjecture, for, on the third day, Oswald Partridge came over to say that the intendant would be happy tosee him, if he could make it convenient to go over; which Edwardassented to do on the following day. Oswald had ridden over on a pony;Edward arranged to take Billy and return with him. They started earlythe next morning, and Edward asked Oswald if he knew why the intendanthad sent for him. 

"Not exactly, " replied Oswald; "but I think, from what I heard MissPatience say, it is to offer you some situation, if you could beprevailed upon to accept it. "

"Very true, " replied Edward; "he offers me the post of secretary. Whatdo you think?"

"Why, sir, I think I would accept it; at all events, I would take iton trial--there can be no harm done. If you do not like it, you canonly go back to the cottage again. One thing I am sure of, which is, that Master Heatherstone will make it as pleasant to you as he can, for he is most anxious to serve you. "

"That I really believe, " replied Edward; "and I have pretty well madeup my mind to accept the office. It is a post of confidence, and Ishall know all that is going on, which I can not do while I amsecluded in the forest; and, depend upon it, we shall have stirringnews. "

"I suppose you think that the king will come over, " replied Oswald. 

"I feel certain of it, Oswald; and that is the reason why I want to bewhere I can know all that is going on. "

"Well, sir, it is my opinion that the king will come over, as well asyours; yet I think at present he stands but a poor chance; but MasterHeatherstone knows more on that score than any one, I should think;but he is very close. "

The conversation then changed, and, after a ride of eight hours, theyarrived at the intendant's house. Edward gave Billy into Oswald'scharge, and knocked at the door. Phoebe let him in, and asked him intothe sitting-room, where he found the intendant alone. 

"Edward Armitage, I am glad to see you, and shall be still more so ifI find that you have made up your mind to accept my proposition. Whatis your reply?"

"I am very thankful to you for the offer, sir, " replied Edward, "andwill accept it if you think that I am fitting for it, and if I findthat I am equal to it; I can but give it a trial, and leave if I findit too arduous or too irksome. "

"Too arduous it shall not be--that shall be my concern; and tooirksome I hope you will not find it. My letters are not so many butthat I could answer them myself, were it not that my eyes are gettingweak, and I wish to save them as much as possible. You will thereforehave to write chiefly what I shall dictate; but it is not only forthat I require a person that I can confide in. I very often shall sendyou to London instead of going myself, and to that I presume you willhave no objection!"

"Certainly none, sir. "

"Well, then, it is no use saying any more just now; you will have achamber in this house, and you will live with me, and at my tablealtogether. Neither shall I say any thing just now about remuneration, as I am convinced that you will be satisfied. All that I require nowis, to know the day that you will come, that every thing may beready. "

"I suppose, sir, I must change my attire?" replied Edward, looking athis forester's dress; "that will hardly accord with the office ofsecretary. "

"I agree with you that it will be better to keep that dress for yourforest excursions, as I presume you will not altogether abandon them, "replied the intendant. "You can provide yourself with a suit atLymington. I will furnish you the means. "

"I thank you, sir, I have means, much more than sufficient, " repliedEdward, "although not quite so wealthy as little Clara appeared tobe. "

"Wealthy, indeed!" replied the intendant. "I had no idea that poorRatcliffe possessed so much ready money and jewels. Well, then, thisis Wednesday; can you come over next Monday ?"

"Yes, sir, " replied Edward; "I see no reason to the contrary. "

"Well, then, that is settled, and I suppose you would like to see youraccommodation. Patience and Clara are in the next room. You can jointhem, and you will make my daughter very happy by telling her that youare to become a resident with us. You will, of course, dine with usto-day, and sleep here to-night. "

Mr. Heatherstone then opened the door, and saying to his daughterPatience, "My dear, I leave you to entertain Edward Armitage tilldinner time, " he ushered Edward in, and closed the door again. Clararan up to Edward as soon as he went in, and having kissed him, Edwardthen took Patience's offered hand. 

"Then you have consented?" said Patience, inquiringly. 

"Yes, I could not refuse such kindness, " replied Edward. 

"And when do you come?"

"On Monday night, if I can be ready by that time. "

"Why, what have you to get ready?" said Clara. 

"I must not appear in a forester's dress, my little Clara. I can wearthat with a gun in my hand, but not with a pen: so I must go toLymington and see what a tailor can do for me. "

"You will feel as strange in a secretary's dress as I did in boys'clothes, " said Clara. "Perhaps I may, " said Edward, although he feltthat such would not be the case, having been accustomed to much betterclothes when at Arnwood than what were usually worn by secretaries;and this remembrance brought back Arnwood in its train, and Edwardbecame silent and pensive. 

Patience observed it, and after a time said--

"You will be able to watch over your sisters, Mr. Armitage, as wellhere, almost, as if you were at the cottage. You do not return tillto-morrow? How did you come over?" "I rode the pony Billy, MistressPatience. "

"Why do you call her Mistress Patience, Edward?" said Clara. "You callme Clara; why not call her Patience?"

"You forget that I am only a forester, Clara, " replied Edward, with agrave smile. 

"No, you are a secretary now, " replied Clara. 

"Mistress Patience is older than you by several years. I call youClara, because you are but a little girl; but I must not take thatliberty with Mistress Heatherstone. "

"Do you think so, Patience?" said Clara. 

"I certainly do not think that it would be a liberty in a person, after being well acquainted with me, to call me Patience, " repliedshe; "especially when that person lives in the house with us, eats andassociates with us as one of the family, and is received on anequality; but I dare say, Clara, that Master Armitage will be guidedby his own feelings, and act as he considers to be proper. "

"But you give him leave, and then it is proper, " replied Clara. 

"Yes, if he gave himself leave, Clara, " said Patience. "But we willnow show him his own room, Clara, " continued Patience, wishing tochange the subject of conversation. "Will you follow us, sir?" saidPatience, with a little mock ceremony. 

Edward did so without replying, and was ushered into a large airyroom, very neatly furnished. 

"This is your future lodging, " said Patience; "I hope you will likeit. "

"Why, he never saw any thing like it before, " said Clara. 

"Yes I have, Clara, " replied Edward. 

"Where did you?"

"At Arnwood; the apartments were on a much larger scale. "

"Arnwood! oh yes, I have heard my father speak of it, " said Clara, with the tears starting in her eyes at his memory. "Yes, it was burneddown, and all the children burned to death!"

"So they say, Clara; but I was not there when it was burned. "

"Where were you then?"

"I was at the cottage where I now live. " Edward turned round toPatience, and perceived that her eyes were fixed upon him, as if shewould have read his thoughts. Edward smiled, and said--

"Do you doubt what I say?"

"No, indeed!" said she, "I have no doubt that you were at the cottageat the time; but I was thinking that if the apartments at Arnwood weremore splendid, those at your cottage are less comfortable. You havebeen used to better and to worse, and therefore will, I trust, becontent with these. "

"I trust I have shown no signs of discontent. I should indeed bedifficult to please if an apartment like this did not suit me. Besides, allow me to observe, that although I stated that theapartments at Arnwood were on a grander scale, I never said that I hadever been a possessor of one of them. "

Patience smiled and made no reply. 

"Now that you know your way to your apartment, Master Armitage, wewill, if you please, go back to the sitting-room, " said she. As theywere going back into the sitting-room, she said--

"When you come over on Monday, you will, I presume, bring your clothesin a cart? I ask it, because I promised some flowers and other thingsto your sisters, which I can send back by the cart. "

"You are very kind to think of them, Mistress Patience, " repliedEdward; "they are fond of flowers, and will be much pleased withpossessing any. "

"You sleep here to-night, I think my father said?" inquired Patience. 

"He did make the proposal, and I shall gladly avail myself of it, as Iam not to trust to Phoebe's ideas of comfort this time, " said Edward, smiling. 

"Yes, that was a cross action of Phoebe's; and I can tell you, MasterArmitage, that she is ashamed to look you in the face ever since; buthow fortunate for me that she was cross, and turned you out as shedid! You must forgive her, as she was the means of your performing anoble action; and I must forgive her, as she was the means of my lifebeing saved. "

"I have no feeling except kindness toward Phoebe, " replied Edward;"indeed I ought to feel grateful to her; for if she had not given meso bad a bed that night, I never should have been so comfortablylodged as it is proposed that I shall be now. "

"I hope you are hungry, Edward, " said Clara; "dinner is almost ready. "

"I dare say I shall eat more than you do, Clara. "

"So you ought, a great big man like you. How old are you, Edward?"said Clara; "I am thirteen; Patience is past sixteen: now, how old areyou?"

"I am not yet eighteen, Clara, so that I can hardly be called a man. "

"Why, you are as tall as Mr. Heatherstone. "

"Yes, I believe I am. "

"And can't you do every thing that a man can do?"

"I really don't know; but I certainly shall always try so to do. "

"Well, then, you must be a man. "

"Well, Clara, if it pleases you, I will be a man. "

"Here comes Mr. Heatherstone, so I know dinner is ready; is it not, sir?"

"Yes, my child, it is, " replied Mr. Heatherstone, kissing Clara, "solet us all go in. "

Mr. Heatherstone, as was usual at that time with the people to whoseparty he ostensibly belonged, said a grace before meat, ofconsiderable length, and then they sat down to table. As soon as therepast was over, Mr. Heatherstone returned to his study, and Edwardwent out to find Oswald Partridge, with whom he remained the largerportion of the afternoon, going to the kennel and examining the dogs, and talking of matters connected with the chase. 

"I have not two men that can stalk a deer, " observed Oswald "the menappointed here as verderers and keepers have not one of them beenbrought up to the business. Most of them are men who have been in thearmy, and I believe have been appointed to these situations to get ridof them because they were troublesome; and they are any thing but goodcharacters: the consequence is, that we kill but few deer, for I haveso much to attend to here, as none of them know their duties, that Ican seldom take my own gun out. I stated so to the intendant, and hesaid that if you accepted an offer he had made you, and came overhere, we should not want venison; so it is clear that he does notexpect you to have your pen always in your hand. "

"I am glad to hear that, " replied Edward; "depend upon it, his owntable, at all events, shall be well supplied. Is not that fellowCorbould, who is leaning against the wall?"

"Yes; he is to be discharged as he can not walk well, and the surgeonsays he will always limp. He owes you a grudge, and I am glad that heis going away, for he is a dangerous man. But the sun is setting, Mr. Edward, and supper will soon be on the table; you had better go backto the house. "

Edward bade Oswald farewell, and returned to the intendant's, andfound that Oswald was correct, as supper was being placed on thetable. 

Soon after supper, Phoebe and the men-servants were summoned, andprayers offered up by the intendant, after which Patience and Clararetired. Edward remained in conversation with the intendant for aboutan hour, and then was conducted by him to his room, which had alreadybeen shown to him by Patience. 

Edward did not sleep much that night. The novelty of his situation--the novelty of his prospects, and his speculations thereon, kept himawake till near morning: he was, however, up in good time, and havingassisted at the morning prayers, and afterward eaten a mostsubstantial breakfast, he took his leave of the intendant and the twogirls, and set off on his return to the cottage, having renewed hispromise of coming on the following Monday to take up his abode withthem. Billy was fresh, and cantered gayly along, so that Edward wasback early in the afternoon, and once more welcomed by his household. He stated to Humphrey all that had occurred, and Humphrey was muchpleased at Edward having accepted the offer of the intendant. Aliceand Edith did not quite so much approve of it, and a few tears wereshed at the idea of Edward leaving the cottage. The next day, Edwardand Humphrey set off for Lymington, with Billy in the cart. 

"Do you know, Edward, " said Humphrey, "what I am going to try andpurchase? I will tell you: as many kids as I can, or goats and kids, Idon't care which. "

"Why, have you not stock enough already? You will this year have fourcows in milk, and you have two cow calves bringing up. "

"That is very true; but I do not intend to have goats for their milk, but simply for eating in lieu of mutton. Sheep I can not manage, butgoats, with a little hay in winter, will do well, and will findthemselves in the forest all the year round. I won't kill any of thefemales for the first year or two, and after that I expect we shallhave a flock sufficient to meet any demand upon it. "

"It is not a bad idea, Humphrey; they will always come home if youhave hay for them during the winter. "

"Yes, and a large shed for them to lie in when the snow is on theground. "

"Now I recollect, when we used to go to Lymington, I saw a great manygoats, and I have no doubt that they are to be purchased. I will soonascertain that for you, from the landlord of the hostelry, " repliedEdward. "We will drive there first, as I must ask him to recommend meto a tailor. "

On their arrival at Lymington, they went straight to the hostelry, andfound the landlord at home. He recommended a tailor to Edward, whosent for him to the inn, and was measured by him for a plain suit ofdark cloth. Edward and Humphrey then went out, as Edward had toprocure boots, and many other articles of dress, to correspond withthe one which he was about to assume. 

"I am most puzzled about a hat, Humphrey, " said Edward: "I hate thosesteeple-crowned hats worn by the Roundheads; yet the hat and featheris not proper for a secretary. "

"I would advise you to submit to wear the steeple-crowned hats, nevertheless, " said Humphrey. "Your dress, as I consider, is a sort ofdisgrace to a Cavalier born, and the heir of Arnwood; why not, therefore, take its hat as well? As secretary to the intendant, youshould dress like him; if not, you may occasion remarks, especiallywhen you travel on his concerns. "

"You are right, Humphrey, I must not do things by halves; and unless Iwear the hat, I might be suspected. "

"I doubt if the intendant wears it for any other reason, " saidHumphrey. 

"At all events, I will not go to the height of the fashion, " repliedEdward, laughing. "Some of the hats are not quite so tall as theothers. "

"Here is the shop for the hat and for the sword-belt. "

Edward chose a hat and a plain sword-belt, paid for them, and desiredthe man to carry them to the hostelry. 

While all these purchases on the part of Edward, and many others byHumphrey, such as nails, saws, tools, and various articles which Alicerequired for the household, were gathered together, the landlord hadsent out to inquire for the goats, and found out at what price theywere to be procured. Humphrey left Edward to put away these in thecart, while he went out a second time to see the goats; he made anagreement with the man who had them for sale, for a male and threefemales with two kids each at their sides, and ten more female kidswhich had just been weaned. The man engaged to drive them fromLymington as far as the road went into the forest, on the followingday, when Humphrey would meet them, pay him his money, and drive themto the cottage, which would be only three miles from the place agreedupon. Having settled that satisfactorily, he returned to Edward, whowas all ready, and they went back home. 

"We have dipped somewhat into the bag to-day, Edward, " said Humphrey, "but the money is well spent. "

"I think so, Humphrey; but I have no doubt that I shall be able toreplace the money very soon, as the intendant will pay me for myservices. The tailor has promised the clothes on Saturday withoutfail, so that you or I must go for them. "

"I will go, Edward; my sisters will wish you to stay with them now, asyou are so soon to leave them; and I will take Pablo with me, that hemay know his way to the town; and I will show him where to buy things, in case he goes there by himself. "

"It appears to me to have been a most fortunate thing, your havingcaught Pablo as you did, Humphrey, for I do not well know how I couldhave left you, if you had not. "

"At all events, I can do much better without you than I should havedone, " replied Humphrey; "although I think now that I could get on bymyself; but still, Edward, you know we can not tell what a day maybring forth, and I might fall sick, or something happen which mightprevent my attending to any thing; and then, without you or Pablo, every thing might have gone to rack and ruin. Certainly, when we thinkhow we were left, by the death of old Jacob, to our own resources, wehave much to thank God for, in having got on so well. "

"I agree with you, and also that it has pleased Heaven to grant us allsuch good health. However, I shall be close at hand if you want me, and Oswald will always call and see how you get on. "

"I hope you will manage that he calls once a-week. "

"I will if I can, Humphrey, for I shall be just as anxious as you areto know if all goes on well. Indeed, I shall insist upon coming overto you once a-fortnight; and I hardly think the intendant will refuseme--indeed, I am sure that he will not. "

"So am I, " replied Humphrey. "I am certain that he wishes us all well, and has, in a measure, taken us under his protection; but, Edward, recollect, I shall never kill any venison after this, and so you maytell the intendant. "

"I will, and that will be an excuse for him to send some over, if hepleases. Indeed, as I know I shall be permitted to go out with Oswald, it will be hard if a stray buck does not find its way to the cottage. "

Thus did they continue talking over matters till they arrived at thecottage. Alice came out to them, saying to Humphrey, "Well, Humphrey, have you brought my geese and ducks?"

Humphrey had forgotten them, but he replied, "You must wait till I goto Lymington again on Saturday, Alice, and then I hope to bring themwith me. As it is, look how poor Billy is loaded. Where's Pablo?"

"In the garden. He has been working there all day, and Edith is withhim. "

"Well, then, we will unload the cart, while you get us something toeat, Alice, for we are not a little hungry. I can tell you. "

"I have some rabbit-stew on the fire, Humphrey, all ready for you, andyou will find it very good. "

"Nothing I like better, my dear girl. Pablo won't thank me forbringing this home, " continued Humphrey, taking the long saw out ofthe cart; "he will have to go to the bottom of the pit again, as soonas the pit is made. "

The cart was soon unloaded, Billy taken out and turned out to feed, and then they went in to the supper. 

Humphrey was off the next morning, with Pablo, at an early hour, tomeet the farmer of whom he had purchased the goats and kids. He foundthem punctual to the time, at the place agreed upon; and beingsatisfied with the lot, paid the farmer his money, and drove them homethrough the forest. 

"Goat very good, kid better; always eat kid in Spain, " said Pablo. 

"Were you born in Spain, Pablo?"

"Not sure, but I think so. First recollect myself in that country. "

"Do you recollect your father?"

"No; never see him. "

"Did your mother never talk about him?"

"Call her mother, but think no mother at all. Custom with Gitanas. "

"Why did you call her mother?"

"'Cause she feed me when little, beat me when I get big. "

"All mothers do that. What made you come to England?"

"I don't know, but I hear people say, plenty of money in England--plenty to eat--plenty to drink; bring plenty money back to Spain. "

"How long have you been in England?"

"One, two, three year; yes, three year and a bit. "

"Which did you like best--England or Spain?"

"When with my people, like Spain best; warm sun--warm night. England, little sun, cold night, much rain, snow, and air always cold; but nowI live with you, have warm bed, plenty victuals, like England best. "

"But when you were with the gipsies, they stole every thing, did theynot?"

"Not steal every thing, " replied Pablo, laughing; "sometimes take andno pay when nobody there; farmer look very sharp--have big dog. "

"Did you ever go out to steal?"

"Make me go out. Not bring back something, beat me very hard; supposefarmer catch me, beat hard too; nothing but beat, beat, beat. "

"Then they obliged you to steal?"

"Suppose bring nothing home, first beat, and then not have to eat forone, two, three days. How you like that, Master Humphrey? I think yousteal, after no victuals for three days!"

"I should hope not, " replied Humphrey, "although I have never been soseverely punished: and I hope, Pablo, you will never steal any more. "

"Why steal any more?" replied Pablo. "I not like to steal, but becausehungry I steal. Now, I never hungry, always have plenty to eat; no onebeat me now; sleep warm all night. Why I steal, then? No, MasterHumphrey, I never steal more, 'cause I have no reason why, and 'causeMissy Alice and Edith tell me how the good God up there say must notsteal. "

"I am glad to hear you give that as a reason, Pablo, " repliedHumphrey, "as it proves that my sisters have not been teaching you invain. "

"Like to hear Missy Alice talk; she talk grave. Missy Edith talk too, but she laugh very much; very fond Missy Edith, very happy littlegirl; jump about just like one of these kids we drive home; alwaysmerry. Hah! see cottage now; soon get home, Massa Humphrey. MissyEdith like see kids very much. Where we put them?"

CHAPTER XIX. 

"We will put them into the yard for the present. I mean that Holdfastshall take charge of them by-and-by. I will soon teach him. "

"Yes, he take charge of coat, or any thing I tell him; why not takecharge of goats. Clever dog, Holdfast. Massa Humphrey, you think MassaEdward take away both his dogs, Smoker and Watch? I say better nottake puppy. Take Smoker, and leave puppy. "

"I agree with you, Pablo. We ought to have two dogs here. I will speakto my brother. Now run forward and open the gate of the yard, andthrow them some hay, Pablo, while I go and call my sisters. "

The flock of goats were much admired, and the next morning were drivenout into the forest to feed, attended by Pablo and Holdfast. When itwas dinner time, Pablo drove the flock near to the cottage, tellingthe dog to mind them. The sensible animal remained at once with thegoats until Pablo's return from dinner; and it may be as well toobserve here, that in a few days the dog took charge of themaltogether, driving them home to the yard every evening; and as soonas the goats were put into the yard, the dog had his supper; and thedog took care, therefore, not to be too late. To return to ournarrative. 

On Saturday, Humphrey and Pablo went to Lymington, to bring homeEdward's clothes, and Humphrey made Pablo acquainted with all that hewanted to know, in case it might be necessary to send Pablo therealone. 

Edward remained with his sisters, as he was to leave them on theMonday. 

Sunday was passed as usual; they read the service at old Armitage'sgrave, and afterward they walked in the forest; for Sunday was theonly day on which Alice could find time to leave her duties in thecottage. They were not more grave than usual at the idea of Edward'sleaving them; but they kept up their spirits, as they were aware thatit was for the advantage of all. 

On Monday morning, Edward, to please his sisters, put on his newclothes, and put his forester's dress in the bundle with his linen. Alice and Edith thought he looked very well in them, and said that itreminded them of the days of Arnwood. The fact was, that Edwardappeared as he was--a gentleman born; that could not well be concealedunder a forester's dress, and in his present attire it was undeniable. After breakfast, Billy was harnessed and brought to the cottage-door. Edward's linen was put in the cart, and as he had agreed withHumphrey, he took only Smoker with him, leaving the puppy at thecottage. Pablo went with him, to bring back the cart. Edward kissedhis sisters, who wept at the idea of his leaving them, and, shakinghands with Humphrey, he set off to cross the forest. 

"Who would ever have believed this?" thought Edward, as he droveacross the forest, "that I should put myself under the roof and underthe protection of a Roundhead--one in outward appearance, and in theopinion of the world at least, if he is not so altogether in opinions. There is surely some spell upon me, and I almost feel as if I were atraitor to my principles. Why I know not, I feel a regard for thatman, and a confidence in him. And why should I not? He knows myprinciples, my feelings against his party, and he respects them. Surely he can not wish to gain me over to his party; that were indeedridiculous--a young forester--a youth unknown. No, he would gainnothing by that, for I am nobody. It must be from goodwill, and noother feeling. I have obliged him in the service I rendered hisdaughter, and he is grateful. " Perhaps, had Edward put the question tohimself, "Should I have been on such friendly terms with theintendant--should I have accepted his offer, if there had been noPatience Heatherstone?" he might then have discovered what was the"spell upon him" which had rendered him so tractable; but of that hehad no idea. He only felt that his situation would be rendered morecomfortable by the society of an amiable and handsome girl, and heinquired no further. 

His revery was broken by Pablo, who appeared tired of holding histongue, and said, Massa Edward, you not like leave home--you thinkvery much. Why you go there?"

"I certainly do not like to leave home, Pablo, for I am very fond ofmy brother and sisters; but we can not always do as we wish in thisworld, and it is for their sakes, more than from my own inclinations, that I have done so. "

"Can't see what good you do Missy Alice and Missy Edith 'cause you goaway. How it possible do good, and not with them? Suppose badaccident, and you away, how you do good? Suppose bad accident, and youat cottage, then you do good. I think, Massa Edward, you veryfoolish. "

Edward laughed at this blunt observation of Pablo's, and replied, "Itis very true, Pablo, that I can not watch over my sisters, and protectthem in person, when I am away; but there are reasons why I should go, nevertheless, and I may be more useful to them by going than byremaining with them. If I did not think so, I would not leave them. They know nobody, and have no friends in the world. Suppose anythingwas to happen to me--suppose both Humphrey and I were to die--for youknow that we never know how soon that event may take place--who wouldthere be to protect my poor sisters, and what would become of them? Isit not, therefore, wise that I should procure friends for them, incase of accident, who would look after them and protect them? and itis my hope, that by leaving them now, I shall make powerful and kindfriends for them. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, I see now; you think more than me, Massa Edward. I say just now, you foolish; I say now, Pablo great fool. "

"Besides, Pablo, recollect that I never would have left them as longas there was only Humphrey and I to look after them, because anaccident might have happened to one of us; but when you came to livewith us, and I found what a good, clever boy you were, and that youwere fond of us all, I then said, 'Now I can leave my sisters, forPablo shall take my place, and assist Humphrey to do what is required, and to take care of them. ' Am I not right, Pablo?"

"Yes, Massa Edward, " replied Pablo, taking hold of Edward's wrist, "you quite right. Pablo does love Missy Alice, Missy Edith, MassaHumphrey, and you, Massa Edward; he love you all very much indeed; helove you so much that he die for you! Can do no more. "

"That is what I really thought of you, Pablo, and yet I am glad tohear it from your own mouth. If you had not come to live with us, andnot proved so faithful, I could not have left to benefit my sisters;but you have induced me to leave, and they have to thank you if I amable to be of any service to them. "

"Well, Massa Edward, you go; never mind us, we make plenty of work; doevery thing all the same as you. "

"I think you will, Pablo, and that is the reason why I have agreed togo away. But, Pablo, Billy is growing old, and you will want some moreponies. " "Yes, Massa Edward; Massa Humphrey talk to me about ponieslast night, and say plenty in the forest. Ask me if I think us ablecatch them. I say yes, catch one, two, twenty, suppose want them. "

"Ah! how will you do that, Pablo?"

"Massa Edward, you tell Massa Humphrey no possible, so I no tell youhow, " replied Pablo, laughing. "Some day you come and see us, see fiveponies in the stable. Massa Humphrey and I, we talk about, find outhow; you see. "

"Well, then, I shall ask no more questions, Pablo; and when I see theponies in the stable, then I'll believe it, and not before. "

"Suppose you want big horse for ride, catch big horse, Massa Edward, you see. Massa Humphrey very clever, he catch cow. "

"Catch gipsy, " said Edward. 

"Yes, " said Pablo, laughing, "catch cow, catch gipsy, and by-and-bycatch horse. "

When Edward arrived at the intendant's house, he was very kindlyreceived by the intendant and the two girls. Having deposited hiswardrobe in his bedroom, he went out to Oswald and put Smoker in thekennel, and on his return found Pablo sitting on the carpet in thesitting-room, talking to Patience and Clara, and they all threeappeared much amused. When Pablo and Billy had both had something toeat, the cart was filled with pots of flowers, and several, otherlittle things as presents from Patience Heatherstone, and Pablo setoff on his return. 

"Well, Edward, you do look like a--" said Clara, stopping. 

"Like a secretary, I hope, " added Edward. 

"Well, you don't look like a forester; does he, Patience?" continuedClara. 

"You must not judge of people by their clothes, Clara. "

"Nor do I, " replied Clara. "Those clothes would not look well uponOswald, or the other men, for they would not suit them; but they dosuit you: don't they, Patience?"

Patience Heatherstone, however, did not make any answer to this secondappeal made by Clara. 

"Why don't you answer me, Patience?", said Clara. 

"My dear Clara, it's not the custom for young maidens to make remarksupon people's attire. Little girls like you may do so. "

"Why, did you not tell Pablo that he looked well in his new clothes?"

"Yes, but Pablo is not Mr. Armitage, Clara. That is very different. "

"Well, it may be, but still you might answer a question, if put toyou, Patience: and I ask again, does not Edward look much better inthe dress he has on than in the one that he has generally worn?"

"I think it a becoming dress, Clara, since you will have an answer. "

"Fine feathers make fine birds, Clara, " said Edward, laughing; "and sothat is all we can say about it. "

Edward then changed the conversation. Soon afterward dinner wasannounced, and Clara again observed to Edward, "Why do you always call Patience Mistress Heatherstone? Ought he notto call her Patience, sir?" said Clara, appealing to the intendant. 

"That must depend upon his own feelings, my dear Clara, " replied Mr. Heatherstone. "It is my intention to wave ceremony as much aspossible. Edward Armitage has come to live with us as one of thefamily, and he will find himself treated by me as one of us. I shall, therefore, in future address him as Edward; and he has my fullpermission, and I may say it is my wish, that he should be on the samefamiliar terms with us all. When Edward feels inclined to address mydaughter as he does you, by her name of baptism, he will, I dare say, now that he has heard my opinion, do so; and reserve 'MistressHeatherstone, ' for the time when they have a quarrel. "

"Then I hope he will never again address me that way, " observedPatience, "for I am under too great obligations to him to bear eventhe idea of being on bad terms with him. "

"Do you hear that, Edward?" said Clara. 

"Yes, I do, Clara, and after such a remark you may be sure that Ishall never address her in that way again. "

In a few days, Edward became quite at home. In the forenoon, Mr. Heatherstone dictated one or two letters to him, which he wrote; andafter that his time was at his own disposal, and was chiefly passed inthe company of Patience and Clara. With the first he had now become onthe most intimate and brotherly footing; and when they addressed eachother, Patience and Edward were the only appellations made use of. Once Mr. Heatherstone asked Edward whether he would not like to go outwith Oswald to kill a deer, which he did; but the venison was hardlyyet in season. There was a fine horse in the stable at Edward's order, and he often rode out with Patience and Clara; indeed his time passedso agreeably that he could hardly think it possible that a fortnighthad passed away, when he asked permission to go over to the cottageand see his sisters. With the intendant's permission, Patience andClara accompanied him; and the joy of Alice and Edith was great whenthey made their appearance. Oswald had, by Edward's request, gone overa day or two before, to tell them that they were coming, that theymight be prepared; and the consequence was, that it was a holyday atthe cottage. Alice had cooked her best dinner, and Humphrey and Pablowere at home to receive them. 

"How pleasant it will be, if we are to see you and Clara whenever wesee Edward!" said Alice to Patience. "So far from being sorry thatEdward is with you, I shall be quite glad of it. "

"I water the flowers every day, " said Edith, "and they make the gardenlook so gay. "

"I will bring you plenty more in the autumn, Edith; but this is notthe right time for transplanting flowers yet, " replied Patience. "Andnow, Alice, you must take me to see your farm, for when I was herelast I had no time; let us come now, and show me every thing. "

"But my dinner, Patience; I can not leave it, or it will be spoiled, and that will never do. You must either go with Edith now, or waittill after dinner, when I can get away. "

"Well, then, we will stay till after dinner, Alice, and we will helpyou to serve it up. "

"Thank you; Pablo generally does that, for Edith can not reach downthe things. I don't know where he is. "

"He went away with Edward and Humphrey I think, " said Edith. "I'llscold him when he comes back, for being out of the way. "

"Never mind, Edith, I can reach the dishes, " said Patience, "and youand Clara can then take them, and the platters, and put them on thetable for Alice. "

And Patience did as she proposed, and the dinner was soon afterward onthe table. There was a ham, and two boiled fowls, and a piece ofsalted beef, and some roasted kid, besides potatoes and green peas;and when it is considered that such a dinner was bet on the table bysuch young people left entirely to their own exertions and. Industry, it must be admitted that it did then and their farm great credit. 

In the mean time, Edward and Humphrey, after the first greetings wereover, had walked out to converse, while Pablo had taken the horsesinto the stable. 

"Well, Humphrey how do you get on?"

"Very well, " replied Humphrey. "I have just finished a very tough job. I have dug out the saw-pit, and have sawed the slabs for the sides ofthe pit, and made it quite secure. The large fir-tree that was blowndown is now at the pit, ready for sawing up into planks, and Pablo andI are to commence to-morrow. At first we made but a bad hand of sawingoff the slabs, but before we had cut them all, we got on pretty wellPablo don't much like it, and indeed no more do I much, it is suchmechanical work, and so tiring; but he does not complain--I do notintend that he shall saw more than two days in a week; that will besufficient: we shall get on fast enough. 

"You are right, Humphrey; it is an old saying, that you must not worka willing horse to death. Pablo is very willing, but hard work he isnot accustomed to. 

"Well, now you must come and look at my flock of goats, Edward, theyare not far off. I have taught Holdfast to take care of them, and henever leaves them now, and brings them home at night. Watch alwaysremains with me, and is an excellent dog, and very intelligent. "

"You have indeed a fine flock, Humphrey!" said Edward. 

"Yes, and they are improved in appearance already since they have beenhere. Alice has got her geese and ducks, and I have made a place largeenough for them to wash in, until I have time to dig them out a pond. "

"I thought we had gathered more hay than you required; but with thisaddition, I think you will find none to spare before the spring. "

"So far from it, that I have been mowing down a great deal more, Edward, and it is almost ready to carry away. Poor Billy has had hardwork of it, I assure you, since he came back, with one thing andanother. "

"Poor fellow! but it won't last long, Humphrey, " said Edward, smiling;"the other horses will soon take his place. "

"I trust they will, " said Humphrey, "at all events by next spring;before that I do not expect that they will. "

"By-the-by, Humphrey, you recollect what I said to you that the robberI shot told me just before he died. "

"Yes, I do recollect it now, " replied Humphrey; "but I had quiteforgotten all about it till you mentioned it now, although I wrote itdown that we might not forget it. "

"Well, I have been thinking all about it, Humphrey. The robber told methat the money was mine, taking me for another person; therefore I donot consider it was given to me, nor do I consider that it was his togive. I hardly know what to do about it, nor to whom the money can besaid to belong. "

"Well, I think I can answer that question. The property of allmalefactors belongs to the king; and therefore this money belongs tothe king; and we may retain it for the king, or use it for hisservice. "

"Yes, it would have belonged to the king, had the man been condemned, and hung on the gallows as he deserved; but he was not, and thereforeI think that it does not belong to the king. "

"Then it belongs to whoever finds it, and who keeps it till it isclaimed--which will never be. "

"I think I must speak to the intendant about it, " replied Edward; "Ishould feel more comfortable. "

"Then do so, " replied Humphrey; "I think you are right to have noconcealments from him. "

"But, Humphrey, " replied Edward, laughing, "what silly fellows we are!we do not yet know whether we shall find any thing; we must first seeif there is any thing buried there; and when we have done so, then wewill decide how to act. I shall, if it please God, be over again in afortnight, and in the mean time, do you find out the place, andascertain if what the fellow said is true. "

"I will, " replied Humphrey. "I will go to-morrow, with Billy and thecart, and take a spade and pickax with me. It may be a fool's errand, but still they say, and one would credit, for the honor of humannature, that the words of a dying man are those of truth. We hadbetter go back now, for I think dinner must be ready. "

Now that they had become so intimate with Patience Heatherstone--and, I may add, so fond of her--there was no longer any restraint, and theyhad a very merry dinner party; and after dinner, Patience went outwith Alice and Edith, and looked over the garden and farm. She wishedvery much to ascertain if there was any thing that they required, butshe could discover but few things, and those only trifles; but sherecollected them all, and sent them to the cottage a few daysafterward. But the hour of parting arrived, for it was a long rideback, and they could not stay any longer if they wished to get homebefore dark, as Mr. Heatherstone had requested Edward that they shoulddo; so the horses were brought out, and wishing good-by, they set offagain--little Edith crying after them, "Come again soon! Patience, youmust come again soon!"

CHAPTER XX. 

The summer had now advanced, when Oswald one day said to Edward, "Have you beard the news, sir?"

"Nothing very particular, " replied Edward; "I know that GeneralCromwell is over in Ireland, and they say very successful; but I havecared little for particulars. "

"They say a great deal more, sir, " replied Oswald; "they say that theking is in Scotland, and that the Scotch have raised an army for him. "

"Indeed!" replied Edward, "that is news indeed! The intendant hasnever mentioned it to me. "

"I dare say not, sir; for he knows your feelings, and would sorry topart with you. "

"I will certainly speak to him on the subject, " said Edward, at the"risk of his displeasure; and join the army I will, if I find what yousay is true. I should hold myself a craven to remain here while theking is fighting for his own, and not to be at his side. "

"Well, sir, I think it is true, for I heard that the Parliament hadsent over for General Cromwell to leave Ireland, and lead the troopsagainst the Scotch army. "

"You drive me mad, Oswald! I will go to the intendant immediately!"

Edward, much excited by the intelligence, went into the room where heusually sat with the intendant. The latter, who was at his desk, looked up, and saw how flushed Edward was, and said very quietly, "Edward, you are excited, I presume, from hearing the news which hasarrived?"

"Yes, sir, I am very much so; and I regret very much that I should bethe last to whom such important news is made known. "

"It is, as you say, important news, " replied the intendant; "but ifyou will sit down, we will talk a little upon the subject. "

Edward took a chair, and the intendant said, "I have no doubt that your present feeling is to go to Scotland, andjoin the army without delay. "

"Such is my intention, I candidly confess, sir. It is my duty. "

"Perhaps you may be persuaded to the contrary before we part, " repliedthe intendant. "The first duty you owe is to your family in theirpresent position; they depend upon you; and a false step on your partwould be their ruin. How can you leave them, and leave my employ, without it being known for what purpose you are gone? It isimpossible! I must myself make it known, and even then it would bevery injurious to me, the very circumstance of my having one of yourparty in my service. I am suspected by many already, in consequence ofthe part I have taken against the murder of the late king, and also ofthe lords who have since suffered. But, Edward, I did not communicatethis intelligence to you for many reasons. I knew that it would sooncome to your ears, and I thought it better that I should be moreprepared to show you that you may do yourself and me harm, and can dono good to the king. I will now show you that I do put confidence inyou; and if you will read these letters, they will prove to you that Iam correct in what I assert. "

The intendant handed three letters to Edward, by which it was evidentthat all the king's friends in England were of opinion that the timewas not ripe for the attempt, and that it would be only a sacrifice tostir in the matter; that the Scotch army raised was composed of thosewho were the greatest enemies to the king, and that the best thingthat could happen for the king's interest would be that they weredestroyed by Cromwell; that it was impossible for the Englishadherents of Charles to join them, and that the Scotch did not wishthem so to do. 

"You are no politician, Edward, " said the intendant, smiling, asEdward laid the letters down on the table. "You must admit that, inshowing you these letters, I have put the utmost confidence in you. "

"You have, indeed, sir; and, thanking you for having so done, I needhardly add that your confidence will never be betrayed. "

"That I am sure of; and I trust you will now agree with me and myfriends that the best thing is to remain quiet. "

"Certainly, sir, and in future I will be guided by you. "

"That is all I require of you; and, after that promise, you shall hearall the news as soon as it arrives. There are thousands who are justas anxious to see the king on the throne again as you are, Edward--andyou now know that I am one of them; but the hour is not yet come, andwe must bide our time. Depend upon it, General Cromwell will scatterthat army like chaff. He is on his march now. After what has passedbetween us this day, Edward, I shall talk unreserved to you on what isgoing on. "

"I thank you, sir, and I promise you faithfully, as I said before, notonly to be guided by your advice, but to be most secret in all thatyou may trust me with. "

"I have confidence in you, Edward Armitage; and now we will drop thesubject for the present; Patience and Clara want you to walk withthem, so good-by for the present. "

Edward left the intendant, much pleased with the interview. Theintendant kept his word, and concealed nothing from Edward. All turnedout as the intendant had foretold. The Scotch army was cut to piecesby Cromwell, and the king retreated to the Highlands; and Edward nowfelt satisfied that he could do no better than be guided by theintendant in all his future undertakings. 

We must now pass over some time in a few words. Edward continued atthe intendant's, and gave great satisfaction to Mr. Heatherstone. Hepassed his time very agreeably, sometimes going out to shoot deer withOswald, and often supplying venison to his brother and sisters at thecottage. During the autumn, Patience very often went to the cottage, and occasionally Mr. Heatherstone paid them a visit; but after thewinter set in, Edward came over by himself, shooting as he went; andwhen he and Smoker came to the cottage, Billy always had a journey togo for the venison left in the forest. Patience sent Alice many littlethings for the use of her and Edith, and some very good books for themto read; and Humphrey, during the evenings, read with his sisters, that they might learn what he could teach them. Pablo also learned toread and write. Humphrey and Pablo had worked at the saw-pit, and hadsawed out a large quantity of boards and timber for building, but thebuilding was put off till the spring. 

The reader may recollect that Edward had proposed to Humphrey that heshould ascertain whether what the robber had stated before his deathrelative to his having concealed his ill-gotten wealth under the treewhich was struck by lightning was true. About ten days afterwardHumphrey set off on this expedition. He did not take Pablo with him, as, although he had a very good opinion of him, he agreed with Oswaldthat temptation should not be put in his way. Humphrey considered thatit would be the best plan to go at once to Clara's cottage, and fromthat proceed to find the oak-tree mentioned by the robber. When hearrived at the thicket which surrounded the cottage, it occurred tohim that he would just go through it and see if it was in the statewhich they had left it in; for after the intendant had been there, hehad given directions to his men to remain and bury the bodies, andthen to lock up the doors of the cottage, and bring the keys to him, which had been done. Humphrey tied Billy and the cart to a tree, andwalked through the thicket. As he approached the cottage he heardvoices; this induced him to advance very carefully, for he had notbrought his gun with him. He crouched down as he came to the openingbefore the cottage. The doors and windows were open, and there weretwo men sitting outside, cleaning their guns; and in one of themHumphrey recognized the man Corbould, who had been discharged by theintendant as soon as his wound had been cured, and who was supposed tohave gone to London. Humphrey was too far off to hear what they said;he remained there some time, and three more men came out of thecottage. Satisfied with what he had seen, Humphrey cautiouslyretreated, and, gaining the outside of the thicket, led away Billy andthe cart over the turf, that the noise of the wheels might not beheard. 

"This bodes no good, " thought Humphrey as he went along, every now andthen looking back to ascertain if the men had come out and seen him. "That Corbould we know has vowed vengeance against Edward, and all ofus; and has, no doubt, joined those robbers--for robbers they must be--that he may fulfill his vow. It is fortunate that I have made thediscovery and I will send over immediately to the intendant. " As soonas a clump of trees had shut out the thicket, and he had no longer anyfear of being seen by these people, Humphrey went in the directionwhich the robber had mentioned, and soon afterward he perceived theoak scathed with lightning, which stood by itself on a green spot ofabout twenty acres. It had been a noble tree before it had beendestroyed; now it spread its long naked arms, covering a large spaceof ground, but without the least sign of vegetation or life remaining. The trunk was many feet in diameter, and was apparently quite sound, although the tree was dead. Humphrey left Billy to feed on the herbageclose by, and then, from the position of the sun in the heavens, ascertained the point at which he was to dig. First looking around himto see that he was not overlooked, he took his spade and pick-ax outof the cart and begun his task. There was a spot not quite so green asthe rest. Which Humphrey thought likely to be the very place that heshould dig at, as probably it was not green from the soil having beenremoved. He commenced at this spot, and, after a few moments' labor, his pick-ax struck upon something hard, which, on clearing away theearth, he discovered to be a wooden lid of a box. Satisfied that hewas right, Humphrey now worked hard, and in a few minutes he hadcleared away sufficiently to be able to lift out the box and place iton the turf. He was about to examine it, when he perceived, at aboutfive hundred yards' distance, three men coming toward him. "They havediscovered me, " thought Humphrey; "and I must be off as soon as Ican. " He ran to Billy, who was close to him, and bringing the cart towhere the box lay, he lifted it in. As he was getting in himself, withthe reins in his hands, he perceived that the three men were runningtoward him as fast as they could, and that they all had guns in theirhands. They were not more than a hundred and fifty yards from him whenHumphrey set off, putting Billy to a full trot. 

The three men, observing this, called out to Humphrey to stop, or theywould fire; but Humphrey's only reply was giving a lash to Billy, which set him off at a gallop. The men immediately fired, and thebullets whistled past Humphrey without doing any harm. Humphrey lookedround, and finding that he had increased his distance, pulled up thepony, and went at a more moderate pace. "You'll not catch me, " thoughtHumphrey; "and your guns are not loaded, so I'll tantalize you alittle. " He made Billy walk, and turned round to see what the men wereabout; they had arrived at where he had dug out the box, and werestanding round the hole, evidently aware that it was no use followinghim. "Now, " thought Humphrey as he went along at a faster pace, "thosefellows will wonder what I have been digging up. The villains littlethink that I know where to find them, and they have proved what theyare by firing at me. Now, what must I do? They may follow me to thecottage, for I have no doubt that they know where we live, and thatEdward is at the intendant's. They may come and attack us, and I darenot leave the cottage tonight, or send Pablo away, in case theyshould; but I will tomorrow morning. " Humphrey considered, as he wentalong, all the circumstances and probabilities, and decided that hewould act as he at first proposed to himself. In an hour he was at thecottage; and as soon as Alice had given him his dinner--for he waslater than the usual dinner hour--he told her what had taken place. 

"Where is Pablo?"

"He has been working in the garden with Edith all the day, " repliedAlice. 

"Well, dear, I hope they will not come tonight: tomorrow I will havethem all in custody; but if they do come, we must do our best to beatthem off. It is fortunate that Edward left the guns and pistols whichhe found in Clara's cottage, as we shall have no want of firearms; andwe can barricade the doors and windows, so that they can not get in ina hurry; but I must have Pablo to help me, for there is no time to belost. "

"But can not I help you, Humphrey?" said Alice. "Surely I can dosomething?" "We will see, Alice; but I think I can do without you. Wehave still plenty of daylight. I will take the box into your room. "

Humphrey, who had only taken the box out of the cart and carried itwithin the threshold of the door, now took it into his sisters'bedroom, and then went out and called Pablo, who came running to him. 

"Pablo, " said Humphrey, "we must bring to the cottage some of thelarge pieces we sawed out for rafters; for I should not be surprisedif the cottage were attacked this night. " He then told Pablo what hadtaken place. "You see, Pablo, I dare not send to the intendant to-night, in case the robbers should come here. "

"No, not send to-night, " said Pablo; "stay here and fight them; firstmake door fast, then cut hole to fire through. "

"Yes, that was my idea. You don't mind fighting them, Pablo?"

"No; fight hard for Missy Alice and Missy Edith, " said Pablo; "fightfor you too, Massa Humphrey, and fight for myself, " added Pablo, laughing. 

They then went for the pieces of squared timber, brought them from thesaw-pit to the cottage, and very soon fitted them to the doors andwindows, so as to prevent several men, with using all their strength, from forcing them open. 

"That will do, " said Humphrey; "and now get me the small saw, Pablo, and I will cut a hole or two to fire through. "

It was dark before they had finished, and then they made all fast, andwent to Pablo's room for the arms, which they got ready for service, and loaded. 

"Now we are all ready, Alice, so let us have our supper, " saidHumphrey. "We will make a fight for it, and they shall not get in soeasily as they think. "

After they had had their supper, Humphrey said the prayers, and toldhis sisters to go to bed. 

"Yes, Humphrey, we will go to bed, but we will not undress, for ifthey come, I must be up to help you. I can load a gun, you know, andEdith can take them to you as fast as I load them. Won't you, Edith?"

"Yes, I will bring you the guns, Humphrey, and you shall shoot them, "replied Edith. 

Humphrey kissed his sisters, and they went to their room. He then puta light in the chimney, that he might not have to get one in case therobbers came, and then desired Pablo to go and lie down on his bed, ashe intended to do the same. Humphrey remained awake till past threeo'clock in the morning, but no robbers came. Pablo was snoring loud, and at last Humphrey fell asleep himself, and did not wake till broaddaylight. He got up, and found Alice and Edith were already in thesitting-room, lighting the fire. 

"I would not wake you, Humphrey, as you had been sitting up so long. The robbers have not made their appearance, that is clear; shall weunbar the door and window-shutters now?"

"Yes, I think we may. Here, Pablo!"

"Yes, " replied Pablo, coming out half asleep; "what the matter? thiefcome?"

"No, " replied Edith, "thief not come, but sun shine, and lazy Pablonot get up. "

"Up now, Missy Edith. "

"Yes, but not awake yet. "

"Yes, Missy Edith, quite awake. "

"Well, then, help me to undo the door, Pablo. "

They took down the barricades, and Humphrey opened the doorcautiously, and looked out. 

"They won't come now, at all events, I should think, " observedHumphrey; "but there is no saying--they may be prowling about, and maythink it easier to get in during daytime than at night. Go out, Pablo, and look about every where; take a pistol with you, and fire it off ifthere is any danger, and then come back as fast as you can. "

Pablo took the pistol, and then Humphrey went out of the door andlooked well round in front of the cottage, but he would not leave thedoor till he was assured that no one was there. Pablo returned soonafter, saying that he had looked round every where, and into the cow-house and yard, and there was nobody to be seen. This satisfiedHumphrey, and they returned to the cottage. 

"Now, Pablo, get your breakfast, while I write the letter to theintendant, " said Humphrey; "and then you must saddle Billy, and goover to him as fast as you can with the letter. You can tell him all Ihave not said in it. I shall expect you back at night, and some peoplewith you. "

"I see, " said Pablo, who immediately busied himself with some coldmeat which Alice put before him. Pablo had finished his breakfast andbrought Billy to the door, before Humphrey had finished his letter. Assoon as it was written and folded, Pablo set off, as fast as Billycould go, to the other side of the forest. 

Humphrey continued on the look-out during the whole day, with his gunon his arm, and his two dogs by his side; for he knew the dogs wouldgive notice of the approach of any one, long before he might see them;but nothing occurred during the whole day; and when the evening closedin he barricaded the doors and windows, and remained on the watch withthe dogs, waiting for the coming of the robbers, or for the arrival ofthe party which he expected would be sent by the intendant to take therobbers. Just as it was dark, Pablo returned with a note from Edward, saying that he would be over, and at the cottage by ten o'clock, witha large party. 

Humphrey had said in his letter, that it would be better that anyforce sent by the intendant should not arrive till after dark, as therobbers might be near and perceive them, and then they might escape;he did not therefore expect them to come till some time after dark. Humphrey was reading a book--Pablo was dozing in the chimney corner--the two girls had retired into their room and had lain down on the bedin their clothes, when the dogs both gave a low growl. 

"Somebody come, " said Pablo, starting up. 

Again the dogs growled, and Humphrey made a sign to Pablo to hold histongue. A short time of anxious silence succeeded, for it wasimpossible to ascertain whether the parties were friends or enemies. The dogs now sprung up and barked furiously at the door, and as soonas Humphrey had silenced them, a voice was heard outside, begging foradmission to a poor benighted traveler. This was sufficient; it couldnot be the party from the intendant's, but the robbers who wished toinduce them to open the door. Pablo put a gun into Humphrey's hand, and took another for himself; he then removed the light into thechimney, and on the application from outside being repeated, Humphreyanswered, "That he never opened the door at that hour of the night, and that itwas useless their remaining. "

No answer or repetition of the request was made, but, as Humphreyretreated with Pablo into the fireplace, a gun was fired into the lockof the door, which was blown off into the room, and, had it not beenfor the barricades, the doors must have flown open. The robbersappeared surprised at such not being the case, and one of theminserted his arm into the hole made in the door, to ascertain whatmight be the further obstacle to open it, when Pablo slipped pastHumphrey, and gaining the door, discharged his gun under the arm whichhad been thrust into the hole in the door. The party, whoever it mighthave been, gave a loud cry, and fell at the threshold outside. 

"I think that will do, " said Humphrey: "we must not take more lifethan is necessary. I had rather that you had fired through his arm--itwould have disabled him, and that would have sufficed. "

"Kill much better, " said Pablo. "Corbould shot through leg, come againto rob; suppose shot dead, never rob more. "

The dogs now flew to the back of the cottage, evidently pointing outthat the robbers were attempting that side. Humphrey put his gunthrough the hole in the door, and discharged it. 

"Why you do that, Massa Humphrey? nobody there!"

"I know that, Pablo; but if the people are coming from theintendant's, they will see the flash and perhaps hear the report, andit will let them know what is going on. "

"There is another gun loaded, Humphrey, " said Alice, who with Edithhad joined them without Humphrey observing it. 

"Thanks, love; but you and Edith must not remain here; sit down on thehearth, and then you will be sheltered from any bullet which they mayfire into the house. I have no fear of their getting in, and we shallhave help directly, I have no doubt. Pablo, I shall fire through theback door; they must be there, for the dogs have their noses under it, and are so violent. Do you fire another gun, as a signal, through thehole in the front door. "

Humphrey stood within four feet of the back door, and fired just abovewhere the dogs held their noses and barked. Pablo discharged his gunas directed, and then returned to reload the guns. The dogs were nowmore quiet, and it appeared as if the robbers had retreated from theback door. Pablo blew out the light, which had been put more in thecenter of the room when Alice and Edith took possession of thefireplace. 

"No fear, Missy Edith, I know where find every thing, " said Pablo, whonow went and peered through the hole in the front door, to see if therobbers were coming to it again; but he could see and hear nothing forsome time. 

At last the attack was renewed; the dogs flew backward and forward, sometimes to one door and then to another, as if both were to beassailed; and at the same time a crash in Alice's bedchamber told themthat the robbers had burst in the small window in that room, whichHumphrey had not paid any attention to, as it was so small that a mancould hardly introduce his body through it. Humphrey immediatelycalled Holdfast and opened the door of the room, for he thought that aman forcing his way in would be driven back or held by the dog, and heand Pablo dared not leave the two doors. Watch, the other dog, followed Holdfast into the bedroom; and oaths and curses, mingled withthe savage yells of the dogs, told them that a conflict was going on. Both doors were now battered with heavy pieces of timber at the sametime, and Pablo said, "Great many robbers here. "

A moment or more had passed, during which Pablo and Humphrey had bothagain fired their guns through the door, when, of a sudden, othersounds were heard--shots were fired outside, loud cries, and angryoaths and exclamations. 

"The intendant's people are come, " said Humphrey, "I am sure of it. "

Shortly afterward Humphrey heard his name called by Edward, and hereplied, and went to the door and undid the barricades. 

"Get a light, Alice, dear, " said Humphrey, "we are all safe now. Iwill open the door directly, Edward, but in the dark I can not see thefastenings. "

"Are you all safe, Humphrey?"

"Yes, all safe, Edward. Wait till Alice brings a light, "

Alice soon brought one, and then the door was unfastened. Edwardstepped over the body of a man which lay at the threshold, saying--

"You have settled somebody there, at all events, " and then caughtEdith and Alice in his arms. 

He was followed by Oswald and some other men, leading in theprisoners. 

"Bind that fellow fast, Oswald, " said Edward. "Get another light, Pablo; let us see who it is that lies outside the door. "

"First see who is in my bedroom, Edward, " said Alice, "for the dogsare still there. "

"In your bedroom, dearest? Well, then, let us go there first. "

Edward went in with Humphrey, and found a man half in the window andhalf out, held by the throat and apparently suffocated by the twodogs. He took the dogs off; and desiring the men to secure the robber, and ascertain whether he was alive or not, he returned to the sitting-room, and then went to examine the body outside the door. 

"Corbould, as I live!" cried Oswald. 

"Yes, " replied Edward, "he has gone to his account. God forgive him!"

On inquiry they found, that of all the robbers, to the number of ten, not one had escaped--eight they had made prisoners, Corbould, and theman whom the dogs had seized, and who was found to be quite dead, madeup the number. The robbers were all bound and guarded; and then, leaving them under the charge of Oswald and five of his men, Edwardand Humphrey set off with seven more to Clara's cottage, to ascertainif there were any more to be found there. They arrived by two o'clockin the morning, and, on knocking several times, the door was openedand they seized another man, the only one who was found in it. Theythen went back to the cottage with their prisoner, and by the timethat they had arrived it was daylight. As soon as the party sent bythe intendant had been supplied with a breakfast, Edward bade farewellto Humphrey and his sisters, that he might return and deliver up hisprisoners. Pablo went with him to bring back the cart which carriedthe two dead bodies. This capture cleared the forest of the robberswhich had so long infested it, for they never had any more attemptsmade from that time. 

Before Edward left, Humphrey and he examined the box which Humphreyhad dug up from under the oak, and which had occasioned such danger tothe inmates of the cottage; for one of the men stated to Edward thatthey suspected that the box which they had seen Humphrey dig outcontained treasure, and that without they had seen him in possessionof it, they never should have attacked the cottage, although Corbouldhad often persuaded them so to do; but as they knew that he was onlyseeking revenge--and they required money to stimulate them--they hadrefused, as they considered that there was nothing to be obtained inthe cottage worth the risk, as they knew that the inmates hadfirearms, and would defend themselves. On examination of its contents, they found in the box a sum of 40 pounds in gold, a bag of silver, andsome other valuables in silver spoons, candlesticks, and ornaments forwomen. Edward took a list of the contents, and when he returned hestated to the intendant all that had occurred, and requested to knowwhat should be done with the money and other articles which Humphreyhad found. 

"I wish you had said nothing to me about it, " said the intendant, "although I am pleased with your open and fair dealing. I can not sayany thing, except that you had better let Humphrey keep it till it isclaimed--which, of course, it never will be. But, Edward, Humphreymust come over here and make his deposition, as I must report thecapture of these robbers, and send them to trial. You had better gowith the clerk and take the depositions of Pablo and your sisters, while Humphrey comes here. You can stay till his return. Theirdepositions are not of so much consequence as Humphrey's, as they canonly speak as to the attack, but Humphrey's I must take down myself. "

When Patience and Clara heard that Edward was going over, theyobtained leave to go with him to see Alice and Edith, and were to beescorted back by Humphrey. This the intendant consented to, and theyhad a very merry party. Humphrey remained two days at the intendant'shouse, and then returned to the cottage, where Edward had taken hisplace during his absence. 

CHAPTER XXI. 

The winter set in very severe, and the falls of snow were very heavyand frequent. It was fortunate that Humphrey had been so provident inmaking so large a quantity of hay, or the stock would have beenstarved. The flock of goats, in a great part, subsisted themselves onthe bark of trees and moss; at night they had some hay given to them, and they did very well. It was hardly possible for Edward to come overto see his brother and sisters, for the snow was so deep as to rendersuch a long journey too fatiguing for a horse. Twice or thrice afterthe snow fell, he contrived to get over; but after that they knew itwas impossible, and they did not expect him. Humphrey and Pablo hadlittle to do except attending to the stock, and cutting firewood tokeep up their supply, for they now burned it very fast. The snow layseveral feet high round the cottage, being driven against it by thewind. They had kept a passage clear to the yard, and had kept the yardas clear of snow as possible: they could do no more. A sharp frost andclear weather succeeded to the snow-storms, and there appeared nochance of the snow melting away. The nights were dark and long, andtheir oil for their lamp was getting low. Humphrey was anxious to goto Lymington, as they required many things but it was impossible to goany where except on foot, and walking was, from the depth of the snow, a most fatiguing exercise. There was one thing, however, that Humphreyhad not forgotten, which was, that he had told Edward that he wouldtry and capture some of the forest ponies; and during the whole of thetime since the heavy fall of snow had taken place he had been makinghis arrangements. The depth of the snow prevented the animals fromobtaining any grass, and they were almost starved, as they could findnothing to subsist upon except the twigs and branches of trees whichthey could reach. Humphrey went out with Pablo, and found the herd, which was about five miles from the cottage, and near to Clara'scottage. He and Pablo brought with them as much hay as they couldcarry, and strewed it about, so as to draw the ponies nearer to them, and then Humphrey looked for a place which would answer his purpose. About three miles from the cottage, he found what he thought wouldsuit him; there was a sort of avenue between the two thickets, about ahundred yards wide; and the wind blowing through this avenue, duringthe snow-storm, had drifted the snow at one end of it, and rightacross it raised a large mound several feet high. By strewing smallbundles of hay, he drew the herd of ponies into this avenue; and inthe avenue he left them a good quantity to feed upon every night forseveral nights, till at last the herd of ponies went there everymorning. 

"Now, Pablo, we must make a trial, " said Humphrey. "You must get yourlassoes ready, in case they should be required. We must go to theavenue before daylight, with the two dogs, tie one upon one side ofthe avenue and the other on the other, that they may bark and preventthe ponies from attempting to escape through the thicket. Then we mustget the ponies between us and the drift of snow which lies across theavenue, and try if we can not draw them into the drift. If so, theywill plunge in so deep that some of them will not be able to get outbefore we have thrown the ropes round their necks. "

"I see, " said Pablo; "very good--soon catch them. "

Before daylight they went with the dogs and a large bundle of hay, which they strewed nearer to the mound of drift-snow. They then tiedthe dogs up on each side, ordering them to lie down and be quiet. Theythen walked through the thicket so as not to be perceived, until theyconsidered that they were far enough from the drift-snow. Aboutdaylight, the herd came to pick up the hay as usual, and after theyhad passed them Humphrey and Pablo followed in the thicket, notwishing to show themselves till the last moment. While the ponies werebusy with the hay, they suddenly ran out into the avenue andseparated, so as to prevent the ponies from attempting to gallop pastthem. Shouting as loud they could, as they ran up to the ponies, andcalling to the dogs, who immediately set up barking on each side, theponies, alarmed at the noise and the appearance of Humphrey and Pablo, naturally set off in the only direction which appeared to them to beclear, and galloped away over the mound of drift-snow, with theirtails streaming, snorting and plunging in the snow as they hurriedalong; but as soon as they arrived at the mound of drift-snow, theyplunged first up to their bellies, and afterward, as they attempted toforce their way where the snow was deeper, many of them stuck fastaltogether, and attempted to clear themselves in vain. Humphrey andPablo, who had followed them as fast as they could run, now came upwith them and threw the lasso over the neck of one, and ropes withslip-nooses over two more, which were floundering in the snow theretogether. The remainder of the herd, after great exertions, got clearof the snow by turning round and galloping back through the avenue. The three ponies captured made a furious struggle, but by drawing theropes tight round their necks they were choked, and soon unable tomove. They then tied their fore-legs, and loosed the ropes round theirnecks, that they might recover their breath. 

"Got them now, Massa Humphrey, " said Pablo. 

"Yes; but our work is not yet over, Pablo; we must get them home; howshall we manage that?"

"Suppose they no eat to-day and to-morrow, get very tame. " "I believethat will be the best way; they can not get loose again, do all theycan. "

"No, sir; but get one home to-day. This very fine pony; suppose we tryhim. "

Pablo then put the halter on, and tied the end short to the fore-legof the pony, so that it could not walk without keeping its head closeto the ground--if it raised its head, it was obliged to lift up itsleg. Then he put the lasso round its neck, to choke it if it was toounruly, and having done that, he cast loose the ropes which had tiedits fore-legs together. 

"Now, Massa Humphrey, we get him home somehow. First I go loose thedogs; he 'fraid of the dogs, and run t'other way. "

The pony, which was an iron-gray and very handsome, plunged furiouslyand kicked behind, but it could not do so without falling down, whichit did several times before Pablo returned with the dogs. Humphreyheld one part of the lasso on one side, and Pablo on the other, keeping the pony between them; and with the dogs barking at it behind, they contrived, with a great deal of exertion and trouble, to get thepony to the cottage. The poor animal, driven in this way on threelegs, and every now and then choked with the lasso, was covered withfoam before they arrived. Billy was turned out of his stable to makeroom for the new-comer, who was fastened securely to the manger andthen left without food, that he might become tame. It was too latethen, and they were too tired themselves to go for the other twoponies; so they were left lying on the snow all night, and the nextmorning they found they were much tamer than the first; and during theday, following the same plan, they were both brought to the stable andsecured alongside of the other. One was a bay pony with black legs, and the other a brown one. The bay pony was a mare, and the other twohorses. Alice and Edith were delighted with the new ponies, andHumphrey was not a little pleased that he had succeeded in capturingthem, after what had passed between Edward and him. After two days'fasting, the poor animals were so tame that they ate out of Pablo'shand, and submitted to be stroked and caressed; and before they were afortnight in the stable, Alice and Edith could go up to them withoutdanger. They were soon broken in; for the yard being full of muck, Pablo took them into it and mounted them. They plunged and kicked atfirst, and tried all they could to get rid of him, but they sunk sodeep into the muck that they were soon tired out; and after a month, they were all three tolerably quiet to ride. 

The snow was so deep all over the country that there was littlecommunication with the metropolis. The intendant's letters spoke ofKing Charles raising another army in Holland, and that his adherentsin England were preparing to join him as soon at he marched southward. 

"I think, Edward, " said the intendant, "that the king's affairs do nowwear a more promising aspect; but there is plenty of time yet. I knowyour anxiety to serve your king, and I can not blame it. I shall notprevent your going, although, of course, I must not appear to becognizant of your having so done. When the winter breaks up I shallsend you to London. You will then be better able to judge of what isgoing on, and your absence will not create any suspicion; but you mustbe guided by me. "

"I certainly will, sir, " replied Edward. "I should, indeed, like tostrike one blow for the king, come what will. "

"All depends upon whether they manage affairs well in Scotland; butthere is so much jealousy and pride, and, I fear, treachery also, thatit is hard to say how matters may end. "

It was soon after this conversation that a messenger arrived fromLondon with letters, announcing that King Charles had been crowned inScotland, with great solemnity and magnificence. 

"The plot thickens, " said the intendant; "and by this letter from mycorrespondent, Ashley Cooper, I find that the king's army is wellappointed, and that David Lesley is lieutenant-general; Middletoncommands the horse, and Wemyss the artillery. That Wemyss is certainlya good officer, but was not true to the late king: may he behavebetter to the present! Now, Edward, I shall send you to London, and Iwill give you letters to those who will advise you how to proceed. Youmay take the black horse; he will bear you well. You will of coursewrite to me, for Sampson will go with you, and you can send him backwhen you consider that you do not require or wish for his presence:there is no time to be lost, for, depend upon it, Cromwell, who isstill at Edinburgh, will take the field as soon as he can. Are youready to start to-morrow morning?"

"Yes, sir, quite ready. "

"I fear that you can not go over to the cottage to bid farewell toyour sisters; but, perhaps, it is better that you should not. "

"I think so too, sir, " replied Edward; "now that the snow has nearlydisappeared, I did think of going over, having been so long absent, but I must send Oswald over instead. "

"Well, then, leave me to write my letters, and do you prepare yoursaddle-bags. Patience and Clara will assist you. Tell Sampson to cometo me. "

Edward went to Patience and Clara, and told them that he was to setoff for London on the following morning, and was about to make hispreparations. 

"How long do you remain, Edward?" inquired Patience. 

"I can not tell; Sampson goes with me, and I must, of course, beguided by your father. Do you know where the saddle-bags are, Patience?"

"Yes; Phoebe shall bring them to your room. "

"And you and Clara must come and give me your assistance. "

"Certainly we will, if you require it; but I did not know that yourwardrobe was so extensive. "

"You know that it is any thing but extensive, Patience; but that isthe reason why your assistance is more required. A small wardrobeought at least to be in good order; and what I would require is, thatyou would look over the linen, and where it requires a little repair, you will bestow upon it your charity. "

"That we will do, Clara;" replied Patience; "so get your needles andthread, and let us send him to London with whole linen. We will comewhen we are ready, sir. "

"I don't like his going to London at all, " said Clara, "we shall be solonely when he is gone. "

Edward had left the room, and having obtained the saddlebags fromPhoebe had gone up to his chamber. The first thing that he laid holdof was his father's sword; he took it down, and having wiped itcarefully, he kissed it, saying, "God grant that I may do credit toit, and prove as worthy to wield it as was my brave father!" He haduttered these words aloud; and again taking the sword, and laying itdown on the bed, turned round, and perceived that Patience had, unknown to him, entered the room, and was standing close to him. Edward was not conscious that he had spoken aloud, and thereforemerely said, "I was not aware of your presence, Patience. Your foot isso light. "

"Whose sword is that, Edward"?

"It is mine; I bought it at Lymington. "

"But what makes you have such an affection for that sword?"

"Affection for it?"

"Yes; as I came into the room you kissed it as fervently as--"

"As a lover would his mistress, I presume you would say, " repliedEdward. 

"Nay, I meant not to use such vain words. I was about to say, as adevout Catholic would a relic. I ask you again, Why so? A sword is buta sword. You are about to leave this on a mission of my father's. Youare not a soldier, about to engage in strife and war; if you were, whykiss your sword?"

"I will tell you. I do love this sword. I purchased it, as I told you, at Lymington, and they told me that it belonged to Colonel Beverley. It is for his sake that I love it. You know what obligations ourfamily were under to him. "

"This sword was then wielded by Colonel Beverley, the celebratedCavalier, was it?" said Patience, taking it off the bed, and examiningit. 

"Yes, it was; and here, you see, are his initials upon the hilt. "

"And why do you take it to London with you? Surely it is not theweapon which should be worn by a secretary, Edward; it is too largeand cumbrous, and out of character. "

"Recollect, that till these last few months I have been a forester, Patience, and not a secretary. Indeed, I feel that I am more fit foractive life than the situation which your father's kindness hasbestowed upon me. I was brought up, as you have heard, to follow tothe wars, had my patron lived. "

Patience made no reply. Clara now joined them, and they commenced thetask of examining the linen; and Edward left the room, as he wished tospeak with Oswald. They did not meet again till dinner time. Edward'ssudden departure had spread a gloom over them all--even the intendantwas silent and thoughtful. In the evening he gave Edward the letterswhich he had written, and a considerable sum of money, telling himwhere he was to apply if he required more for his expenses. Theintendant cautioned him on his behavior in many points, and alsorelative to his dress and carriage during his stay in the metropolis. 

"If you should leave London, there will be no occasion--nay, it wouldbe dangerous to write to me. I shall take it for granted that you willretain Sampson till your departure, and when he returns here I shallpresume that you have gone north. I will not detain you longer, Edward: may Heaven bless and protect you!"

So saying, the intendant went away to his own room. 

"Kind and generous man!" thought Edward; "how much did I mistake youwhen we first met!"

Taking up the letters and bag of money, which still remained on thetable, Edward went to his room, and having placed the letters andmoney in the saddle-bag, he commended himself to the Divine Protector, and retired to rest. 

Before daylight, the sound of Sampson's heavy traveling-boots belowroused up Edward, and he was soon dressed. Taking his saddle-bags onhis arm, he walked softly down stairs, that he might not disturb anyof the family; but when he was passing the sitting-room, he perceivedthat there was a light in it, and, on looking in, that Patience was upand dressed. Edward looked surprised, and was about to speak, whenPatience said--

"I rose early, Edward, because, when I took leave of you last night, Iforgot a little parcel that I wanted to give you before you went. Itwill not take much room, and may beguile a weary hour. It is a littlebook of meditations. Will you accept it, and promise me to read itwhen you have time?"

"I certainly will, my dear Patience--if I may venture on theexpression--read it, and think of you. "

"Nay, you must read it, and think of what it contains, " repliedPatience. 

"I will, then. I shall not need the book to remind me of PatienceHeatherstone, I assure you. "

"And now, Edward, I do not pretend to surmise the reason of yourdeparture, nor would it be becoming in me to attempt to discover whatmy father thinks proper to be silent upon; but I must beg you topromise one thing. "

"Name it, dear Patience, " replied Edward; "my heart is so full at thethought of leaving you, that I feel I can refuse you nothing. "

"It is this: I have a presentiment, I know not why, that you are aboutto encounter danger. If so, be prudent--be prudent for the sake ofyour dear sisters--be prudent for the sake of all your friends, whowould regret you--promise me that. "

"I do promise you, most faithfully, Patience, that I will ever have mysisters and you in my thoughts, and will not be rash under anycircumstances. "

"Thank you, Edward; may God bless you and preserve you!"

Edward first kissed Patience's hand, that was held in his own; but, perceiving the tears starting in her eyes, he kissed them off, withoutany remonstrance on her part, and then left the room. In a few momentsmore he was mounted on a fine, powerful black horse, and, followed bySampson, on his road to London. 

We will pass over the journey, which was accomplished without anyevent worthy of remark. Edward had, from the commencement, calledSampson to his side, that he might answer the questions he had to makeupon all that he saw, and which, the reader must be aware, was quitenew to one whose peregrinations had been confined to the New Forestand the town adjacent. Sampson was a very powerful man, of a cool andsilent character, by no means deficient in intelligence, andtrustworthy withal. He had long been a follower of the intendant, andhad served in the army. He was very devout, and generally, when notaddressed, was singing hymns in a low voice. 

On the evening of the second day, they were close to the metropolis, and Sampson pointed out to Edward St. Paul's Cathedral and WestminsterAbbey, and other objects worthy of note. 

"And where are we to lodge, Sampson?" inquired Edward. 

"The best hotel that I know of for man and beast is the 'Swan withThree Necks, ' in Holborn. It is not over-frequented by roisterers, andyou will there be quiet, and, if your affairs demand it, unobserved. "

"That will suit me, Sampson: I wish to observe and not be observed, during my stay in London. "

Before dark they had arrived at the hotel, and the horses were in thestable. Edward had procured an apartment to his satisfaction, and, feeling fatigued with his two days' traveling, had gone to bed. 

The following morning he examined the letters which had been given tohim by the intendant, and inquired of Sampson if he could direct himon his way. Sampson knew London well; and Edward set out to SpringGardens, to deliver a letter, which the intendant informed him wasconfidential, to a person of the name of Langton. Edward knocked andwas ushered in, Sampson taking a seat in the hall, while Edward wasshown into a handsomely-furnished library, where he found himself inthe presence of a tall, spare man, dressed after the fashion of theRoundheads of the time. He presented the letter. Mr. Langton bowed, and requested Edward to sit down; and, after Edward had taken a chair, he then seated himself and opened the letter. 

"You are right welcome, Master Armitage, " said Mr. Langton; "I findthat, young as you appear to be, you are in the whole confidence ofour mutual friend, Master Heatherstone. He hints at your beingprobably obliged to take a journey to the north, and that you will beglad to take charge of any letters which I may have to send in thatdirection. I will have them ready for you; and, in case of need, theywill be such as will give a coloring to your proceeding, provided youmay not choose to reveal your true object. How wears our good friendHeatherstone and his daughter?"

"Quite well, sir. "

"And he told me in one of his former letters that he had the daughterof our poor friend Ratcliffe with him. Is it not so?"

"It is, Master Langton; and a gentle, pretty child as you would wishto see. "

"When did you arrive in London?"

"Yesterday evening, sir. "

"And do you purpose any stay?"

"That I can not answer, sir; I must be guided by your advice. I havenaught to do here, unless it be to deliver some three or four letters, given me by Mr. Heatherstone. "

"It is my opinion, Master Armitage, that the less you are seen in thiscity the better; there are hundreds employed to find out new-comers, and to discover, from their people, or by other means, for whatpurpose they may have come; for you must be aware, Master Armitage, that the times are dangerous, and people's minds are various. Inattempting to free ourselves from what we considered despotism, wehave created for ourselves a worse despotism, and one that is lessendurable. It is to be hoped that what has passed will make not onlykings but subjects wiser than they have been. Now, what do youpropose--to leave this instantly?"

"Certainly, if you think it advisable. "

"My advice, then, is to leave London immediately. I will give youletters to some friends of mine in Lancashire and Yorkshire; in eithercounty you can remain unnoticed, and make what preparations you thinknecessary. But do nothing in haste--consult well, and be guided bythem, who will, if it is considered advisable and prudent, join withyou in your project. I need say no more. Call upon me to-morrowmorning, an hour before noon, and I will have letters ready for you. "

Edward rose to depart, and thanked Mr. Langton for his kindness. 

"Farewell, Master Armitage, " said Langton; "to-morrow, at the eleventhhour!"

Edward then quitted the house, and delivered the other letters ofcredence; the only one of importance at the moment was the one ofcredit; the others were to various members of the Parliament, desiringthem to know Master Armitage as a confidential friend of theintendant, and, in case of need, to exert their good offices in hisbehalf. The letter of credit was upon a Hamburgh merchant, who askedEdward if he required money. Edward replied that he did not atpresent, but that he had business to do for his employer in the north, and might require some when there, if it was possible to obtain it sofar from London. 

"When do you set out, and to what town do you go?"

"That I can not well tell until to-morrow. "

"Call before you leave this, and I will find some means of providingfor you as you wish. "

Edward then returned to the hotel. Before he went to bed, he toldSampson that he found that he had to leave London on Mr. Heatherstone's affairs, and might be absent some time; he concluded byobserving that he did not consider it necessary to take him with him, as he could dispense with his services, and Mr. Heatherstone would beglad to have him back. 

"As you wish, sir, " replied Sampson. "When am I to go back?"

"You may leave to-morrow as soon as you please. I have no letter tosend. You may tell them that I am well, and will write as soon as Ihave any thing positive to communicate. "

Edward then made Sampson a present, and wished him a pleasant journey. 

At the hour appointed on the following day, Edward repaired to Mr. Langton, who received him very cordially. 

"I am all ready for you, Master Armitage; there is a letter to twoCatholic ladies in Lancashire, who will take great care of you; andhere is one to a friend of mine in Yorkshire. The ladies live aboutfour miles from the town of Bolton, and my Yorkshire friend in thecity of York. You may trust to any of them. And now, farewell; and, ifpossible, leave London before nightfall--the sooner the better. Whereis your servant?"

"He has returned to Master Heatherstone this morning. "

"You have done right. Lose no time to leave London; and don't be in ahurry in your future plans. You understand me. If any one accosts youon the road, put no trust in any professions. You, of course, aregoing down to your relations in the north. Have you pistols?"

"Yes, sir; I have a pair which did belong to the unfortunate Mr. Ratcliffe. "

"Then they are good ones, I'll answer for it; no man was moreparticular about his weapons, or knew how to use them better. Farewell, Master Armitage, and may success attend you!"

Mr. Langton held out his hand to Edward, who respectfully took hisleave. 

CHAPTER XXII. 

Edward was certain that Mr. Langton would not have advised him toleave London if he had not considered that it was dangerous to remain. He therefore first called upon the Hamburgh merchant, who, upon hisexplanation, gave him a letter of credit to a friend who resided inthe city of York; and then returned to the hotel, packed up hissaddle-bags, paid his reckoning, and, mounting his horse, set off onthe northern road. As it was late in the afternoon before he was clearof the metropolis, he did not proceed farther than Barnet, where hepulled up at the inn. As soon as he had seen his horse attended to, Edward, with his saddle-bags on his arm, went into the room in the innwhere all the travelers congregated. Having procured a bed, and givenhis saddle-bags into the charge of the hostess, he sat down by thefire, which, although it was warm weather, was nevertheless keptalight. 

Edward had made no alteration in the dress which he had worn since hehad been received in the house of Mr. Heatherstone. It was plain, although of good materials. He wore a high-crowned hat, and, altogether, would, from his attire, have been taken for one of theRoundhead party. His sword and shoulder-belt were indeed of more gayappearance than those usually worn by the Roundheads; but this was theonly difference. 

When Edward first entered the room, there were three persons in it, whose appearance was not very prepossessing. They were dressed in whathad once been gay attire, but which now exhibited tarnished lace, stains of wine, arid dust from traveling. They eyed him as he enteredwith his saddle-bags, and one of them said--

"That's a fine horse you were riding, sir. Has he much speed?"

"He has, " replied Edward, as he turned away and went into the bar tospeak with the hostess, and give his property into her care. 

"Going north, sir?" inquired the same person when Edward returned. 

"Not exactly, " replied Edward, walking to the window to avoid furtherconversation. 

"The Roundhead is on the stilts, " observed another of the party. 

"Yes, " replied the first; "it is easy to see that he has not beenaccustomed to be addressed by gentlemen; for half a pin I would slithis ears!"

Edward did not choose to reply; he folded his arms and looked at theman with contempt. 

The hostess, who had overheard the conversation, now called for herhusband, and desired him to go into the room and prevent any furtherinsults to the young gentleman who had just come in. The host, whoknew the parties, entered the room, and said--

"Now you'll clear out of this as fast as you can; be off with you, andgo to the stables, or I'll send for somebody whom you will not like. "

The three men rose and swaggered, but obeyed the host's orders, andleft the room. 

"I am sorry, young master, that these roisterers should have affrontedyou, as my wife tells me that they have. I did not know that they werein the house. We can not well refuse to take in their horses; but weknow well who they are, and, if you are traveling far, you had betterride in company. "

"Thank you for your caution, my good host, " replied Edward; "I thoughtthat they were highwaymen, or something of that sort. "

"You have made a good guess, sir; but nothing has yet been provedagainst them, or they would not be here. In these times we havestrange customers, and hardly know who we take in. You have a goodsword there, sir, I have no doubt; but I trust that you have otherarms. "

"I have, " replied Ed ward, opening his doublet, and showing hispistols. 

"That's right, sir. Will you take any thing before you go to bed?"

"Indeed I will, for I am hungry; any thing will do, with a pint ofwine. "

As soon as he had supped, Edward asked the hostess for his saddle-bags, and went up to his bed. 

Early the next morning he rose and went to the stable to see his horsefed. The three men were in the stables, but they did not say any thingto him. Edward returned to the inn, called for breakfast, and as soonas he had finished, took out his pistols to renew the priming. Whileso occupied, he happened to look up, and perceived one of the men withhis face against the window, watching him. "Well, now you see what youhave to expect, if you try your trade with me, " thought Edward. "I amvery glad that you have been spying. " Having replaced his pistols, Edward paid his reckoning, and went to the stable, desiring thehostler to saddle his horse and fix on his saddle-bags. As soon asthis was done, he mounted and rode off. Before he was well clear ofthe town, the highwaymen cantered past him on three well-bred activehorses. "I presume we shall meet again, " thought Edward, who for sometime cantered at a gentle pace, and then, as his horse was very fresh, he put him to a faster pace, intending to do a long day's work. He hadridden about fifteen miles, when he came to a heath, and, as hecontinued at a fast trot, he perceived the three highwaymen about aquarter of a mile in advance of him; they were descending a hill whichwas between them, and he soon lost sight of them again. Edward nowpulled up his horse to let him recover his wind, and walked him gentlyup the hill. He had nearly gained the summit when he heard the reportof firearms, and soon afterward a man on horseback, in full speed, galloped over the hill toward him. He had a pistol in his hand, andhis head turned back. The reason for this was soon evident, asimmediately after him appeared the three highwaymen in pursuit. Onefired his pistol at the man who fled, and missed him. The man thenfired in return, and with true aim, as one of the highwaymen fell. Allthis was so sudden, that Edward had hardly time to draw his pistol andput spurs to his horse, before the parties were upon him, and werepassing him. Edward leveled at the second highwayman as he passed him, and the man fell. The third highwayman, perceiving this, turned hishorse to the side of the road, cleared a ditch, and galloped awayacross the heath. The man who had been attacked had pulled up hishorse when Edward came to his assistance, and now rode up to him, saying, "I have to thank you, sir, for your timely aid; for these rascals weretoo many for me. "

"You are not hurt, I trust, sir?" replied Edward. "No, not the least;the fellow singed my curls though, as you may perceive. They attackedme about half a mile from here. I was proceeding north when I heardthe clatter of hoofs behind me; I looked round and saw at once whatthey were, and I sprung my horse out of the road to a thicket close toit, that they might not surround me. One of the three rode forward tostop my passage, and the other two rode round to the back of thethicket to get behind me. I then saw that I had separated them, andcould gain a start upon them by riding back again, which I did, asfast as I could, and they immediately gave chase. The result you saw. Between us we have broken up the gang; for both these fellows seemdead, or nearly so. "

"What shall we do with them?"

"Leave them where they are, " replied the stranger. "I am in a hurry toget on. I have important business at the city of York, and can notwaste my time in depositions, and such nonsense. It is only twoscoundrels less in the world, and there's an end of the matter. "

As Edward was equally anxious to proceed, he agreed with the stranger, that it was best to do as he proposed. 

"I am also going north, " replied Edward, "and am anxious to get thereas soon as I can. "

"With your permission we will ride together, " said the stranger. "Ishall be the gainer, as I shall feel that I have one with me who is tobe trusted to in case of any further attacks during our journey. "

There was such a gentlemanlike, frank, and courteous air about thestranger, that Edward immediately assented to his proposal, of theirriding in company for mutual protection. He was a powerful, well-mademan, of apparently about one or two-and-twenty, remarkably handsome inperson, dressed richly, but not gaudily, in the Cavalier fashion, andwore a hat with a feather. As they proceeded, they entered intoconversation on indifferent matters for some time, neither partyattempting by any question to discover who his companion might be. Edward had more than once, when the conversation flagged for a minute, considered what reply he should give in case his companion should askhim the cause of his journey, and at last had made up his mind what tosay. 

A little before noon they pulled up to bait their horses at a smallvillage; the stranger observing that he avoided St. Alban's, and allother large towns, as he did not wish to satisfy the curiosity ofpeople, or to have his motions watched; and therefore, if Edward hadno objection, he knew the country so well, that he could save time byallowing him to direct their path. Edward was, as may be supposed, very agreeable to this, and, during their whole journey, they neverentered a town, except they rode through it after dark; and put up athumble inns on the roadside, where, if not quite so well attended to, at all events they were free from observation. 

It was, however, impossible that this reserve could continue long, asthey became more and more intimate every day. At last the strangersaid, "Master Armitage, we have traveled together for some time, interchanging thoughts and feelings, but with due reserve as respectsourselves and our own plans. Is this to continue? If so, of course youhave but to say so; but if you feel inclined to trust me, I have thesame feeling toward you. By your dress I should imagine that youbelonged to a party to which I am opposed; but your language andmanners do not agree with your attire; and I think a hat and featherswould grace that head better than the steeple-crowned affair which nowcovers it. It may be that the dress is only assumed as a disguise: youknow best. However, as I say, I feel confidence in you, to whateverparty you may belong, and I give you credit for your prudence andreserve in these troubled times. I am a little older than you, and mayadvise you; and I am indebted to you, and can not therefore betrayyou--at least I trust you believe so. "

"I do believe it, " replied Edward; "and I will so far answer you, Master Chaloner, that this attire of mine is not the one which I wouldwear, if I had my choice. "

"I believe that, " replied Chaloner; "and I can not help thinking youare bound north on the same business as myself, which is, I confess toyou honestly, to strike a blow for the king. If you are on the sameerrand, I have two old relations in Lancashire, who are stanch to thecause; and I am going to their house to remain until I can join thearmy. If you wish it, you shall come with me, and I will promise youkind treatment and safety while under their roof. "

"And the names of these relatives of yours, Master Chaloner?" saidEdward. 

"Nay, you shall have them; for when I trust, I trust wholly. Theirname is Conynghame. "

Edward took his letters from out of his side-pocket, and handed one ofthem to his fellow-traveler. The address was, "To the worthy MistressConynghame, of Portlake, near Bolton, county of Lancashire. "

"It is to that address that I am going myself, " said Edward, smiling. "Whether it is the party you refer to, you best know. "

Chaloner burst out with a loud laugh. 

"This is excellent! Two people meet, both bound on the same business, both going to the same rendezvous, and for three days do not ventureto trust each other. "

"The times require caution, " replied Edward, as he replaced hisletter. 

"You are right, " answered Chaloner, "and you are of my opinion. I knownow that you have both prudence and courage. The first quality hasbeen scarcer with us Cavaliers than the last; however, now, allreserve is over, at least on my part. "

"And on mine also, " replied Edward. Chaloner then talked about thechances of the war. He stated that King Charles's army was in a goodstate of discipline, and well found in everything; that there werehundreds in England who would join it, as soon as it had advanced farenough into England; and that every thing wore a promising appearance. 

"My father fell at the battle of Naseby, at the head of hisretainers, " said Chaloner, after a pause; "and they have contrived tofine the property, so that it has dwindled from thousands down tohundreds. Indeed, were it not for my good old aunts, who will leave metheir estates, and who now supply me liberally, I should be but a poorgentleman. "

"Your father fell at Naseby?" said Edward. "Were you there?"

"I was, " replied Chaloner. 

"My father also fell at Naseby, " said Edward. 

"Your father did?" replied Chaloner; "I do not recollect the name--Armitage--he was not in command there, was he?" continued Chaloner. 

"Yes, he was, " replied Edward. 

"There was none of that name among the officers that I can recollect, young sir, " replied Chaloner, with an air of distrust. "Surely youhave been misinformed. "

"I have spoken the truth, " replied Edward; "and have now said so muchthat I must, to remove your suspicion say more than perhaps I shouldhave done. My name is not Armitage, although I have been so called forsome time. You have set me the example of confidence, and I willfollow it. My father was Colonel Beverley, of Prince Rupert's troop. "

Chaloner started with astonishment. 

"I'm sure that what you say is true, " at last said he; "for I wasthinking who it was that you reminded me of. You are the very pictureof your father. Although a boy at the time, I knew him well, MasterBeverley; a more gallant Cavalier never drew sword. Come, we must besworn friends in life and death, Beverley, " continued Chaloner, extending his hand, which was eagerly grasped by Edward, who thenconfided to Chaloner the history of his life. When he had concluded, Chaloner said, "We all heard of the firing of Arnwood, and it is at this momentbelieved that all the children perished. It is one of the tales of woethat our nurses repeat to the children, and many a child has wept atyour supposed deaths. But tell me, now, had you not fallen in with me, was it your intention to have joined the army under your assumed nameof Armitage?"

"I hardly know what I intended to do. I wanted a friend to advise me. "

"And you have found one, Beverley. I owe my life to you, and I willrepay the debt as far as is in my power. You must not conceal yourname to your sovereign; the very name of Beverley is a passport, butthe son of Colonel Beverley will be indeed welcomed. Why, the veryname will be considered as a harbinger of good fortune. Your fatherwas the best and truest soldier that ever drew sword; and his memorystands unrivaled for loyalty and devotion. We are near to the end ofour journey; yonder is the steeple of Bolton church. The old ladieswill be out of their wits when they find that they have a Beverleyunder their roof. "

Edward was much delighted at this tribute paid to his father's memory;and the tears more than once started into his eyes as Chaloner renewedhis praise. 

Late in the evening they arrived at Portlake, a grand old mansionsituated in a park crowded with fine old timber. Chaloner wasrecognized, as they rode up the avenue, by one of the keepers, whohastened forward to announce his arrival; and the domestics had openedthe door for them before they arrived at it. In the hall they were metby the old ladies, who expressed their delight at seeing their nephew, as they had had great fear that something had happened to him. 

"And something did very nearly happen to me, " replied Chaloner, "hadit not been for the timely assistance of my friend here, who, notwithstanding his Puritan attire, I hardly need tell you, is aCavalier devoted to the good cause, when I state that he is the son ofColonel Beverley, who fell at Naseby with my good father. "

"No one can be more welcome, then, " replied the old ladies, whoextended their hands to Edward. They then went into a sitting-room, and supper was ordered to be sent up immediately. 

"Our horses will be well attended to, Edward, " said Chaloner; "we neednot any longer look after them ourselves. And now, good aunts, haveyou no letters for me?"

"Yes, there are several; but you had better eat first. "

"Not so; let me have the letters; we can read them before supper, andtalk them over when at table. "

One of the ladies produced the letters, which Chaloner, as he readthem, handed over to Edward for his perusal. They were from GeneralMiddleton, and some other friends of Chaloner's who were with thearmy, giving him information as to what was going on, and what theirprospects were supposed to be. 

"You see that they have marched already, " said Chaloner, "and I thinkthe plan is a good one, and it has put General Cromwell in an awkwardposition. Our army is now between his and London, with three days'march in advance. And we shall now be able to pick up our Englishadherents, who can join us without risk, as we go along. It has been abold step, but a good one; and if they only continue as well as theyhave begun, we shall succeed. The Parliamentary army is not equal toours in numbers, as it is; and we shall add to ours dayly. The kinghas sent to the Isle of Man for the Earl of Derby, who is expected tojoin to-morrow. "

"And where is the army at this moment?" inquired Edward. 

"They will be but a few miles from us to-night, their march is sorapid; to-morrow we will join, if it pleases. "

"Most willingly, " replied Edward. 

After an hour's more conversation, they were shown into their rooms, and retired for the night. 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

The next morning, before they had quitted their beds, a messengerarrived with letters from General Middleton, and from him they foundthat the king's army had encamped on the evening before not six milesfrom Portlake. As they hastily dressed themselves, Chaloner proposedto Edward that a little alteration in his dress would be necessary;and taking him to a wardrobe in which had been put aside some suits ofhis own, worn when he was a younger and slighter-made man than he nowwas, he requested Edward to make use of them. Edward, who was awarethat Chaloner was right in his proposal, selected two suits of colorswhich pleased him most; and dressing in one, and changing his hat forone more befitting his new attire, was transformed into a handsomeCavalier. As soon as they had broken their fast they took leave of theold ladies, and mounting their horses set off for the camp. An hour'sride brought them to the outposts; and communicating with the officeron duty, they were conducted by an orderly to the tent of GeneralMiddleton, who received Chaloner with great warmth as an old friend, and was very courteous to Edward as soon as he heard that he was theson of Colonel Beverley. 

"I have wanted you, Chaloner, " said Middleton; "we are raising a troopof horse; the Duke of Buckingham commands it, but Massey will be thereal leader of it; you have influence in this county, and will, I haveno doubt, bring us many good hands. "

"Where is the Earl of Derby?"

"Joined us this morning; we have marched so quick that we have not hadtime to pick our adherents up. "

"And General Leslie?"

"Is by no means in good spirits: why, I know not. We have too manyministers with the army, that is certain, and they do harm; but we cannot help ourselves. His majesty must be visible by this time; if youare ready, I will introduce you; and, when that is done, we will talkmatters over. "

General Middleton then walked with them to the house in which the kinghad taken up his quarters for the night; and after a few minutes'waiting in the anteroom, they were admitted into his presence. 

"Allow me, your majesty, " said General Middleton, after the firstsalutations, "to present to you Major Chaloner, whose father's name isnot unknown to you. "

"On the contrary, well known to us, " replied the king, "as a loyal andfaithful subject whose loss we must deplore. I have no doubt that hisson inherits his courage and his fidelity. "

The king held out his hand, and Chaloner bent his knee and kissed it. 

"And now, your majesty will be surprised that I should present to youone of a house supposed to be extinct--the eldest son of ColonelBeverley. "

"Indeed!" replied his majesty; "I heard that all his family perishedat the ruthless burning of Arnwood. I hold myself fortunate, as aking, that even one son of so loyal and brave a gentleman as ColonelBeverley has escaped. You are welcome, young sir--most welcome to us;you must be near us; the very name of Beverley will be pleasing to ourears by night or day. "

Edward knelt down and kissed his majesty's hand, and the king said--

"What can we do for a Beverley? let us know, that we may show ourfeelings toward his father's memory. "

"All I request is, that your majesty will allow me to be near you inthe hour of danger, " replied Edward. 

"A right Beverley reply, " said the king; "and so we shall see to it, Middleton. "

After a few more courteous words from his majesty, they withdrew, butGeneral Middleton was recalled by the king for a minute or two toreceive his commands. When he rejoined Edward and Chaloner, he said toEdward--

"I have orders to send in for his majesty's signature your commissionas captain of horse, and attached to the king's personal staff; it isa high compliment to the memory of your father, sir, and, I may add, your own personal appearance. Chaloner will see to your uniforms andaccouterments; you are well mounted, I believe; you have no time tolose, as we march to-morrow for Warrington, in Cheshire. "

"Has any thing been heard of the Parliamentary army?"

"Yes; they are on the march toward London by the Yorkshire road, intending to cut us off if they can. And now, gentlemen, farewell; forI have no idle time, I assure you. "

Edward was soon equipped, and now attended upon the king. When theyarrived at Warrington, they found a body of horse drawn up to opposetheir passage onward. These were charged, and fled with a triflingloss; and as they were known to be commanded by Lambert, one ofCromwell's best generals, there was great exultation in the king'sarmy; but the fact was, that Lambert had acted upon Cromwell's orders, which were to harass and delay the march of the king as much aspossible, but not to risk with his small force any thing like anengagement. After this skirmish it was considered advisable to sendback the Earl of Derby and many other officers of importance intoLancashire, that they might collect the king's adherents in thatquarter and in Cheshire. Accordingly the earl, with about two hundredofficers and gentlemen, left the army with that intention. It was thenconsidered that it would be advisable to march the army direct toLondon; but the men were so fatigued with the rapidity of the march upto the present time, and the weather was so warm, that it was decidedin the negative; and as Worcester was a town well affected to theking, and the country abounded with provisions, it was resolved thatthe army should march there, and wait for English re-enforcements. This was done; the city opened the gates with every mark ofsatisfaction, and supplied the army with all that it required. Thefirst bad news which reached them was the dispersion and defeat of thewhole of the Earl of Derby's party, by a regiment of militia which hadsurprised them at Wigan during the night, when they were all asleep, and had no idea that any enemy was near to them. Although attacked atsuch disadvantage, they defended themselves till a large portion ofthem was killed, and the remainder were taken prisoners, and most ofthem brutally put to death. The Earl of Derby was made a prisoner, butnot put to death with the others. 

"This is bad news, Chaloner, " said Edward. 

"Yes; it is more than bad, " replied the latter; "we have lost our bestofficers, who never should have left the army; and now theconsequences of the defeat will be, that we shall not have any peoplecome forward to join us. The winning side is the right side in thisworld; and there is more evil than that; the Duke of Buckingham hasclaimed the command of the army, which the king has refused, so thatwe are beginning to fight among ourselves. General Leslie is evidentlydispirited, and thinks bad of the cause. Middleton is the only man whodoes his duty. Depend upon it, we shall have Cromwell upon us beforewe are aware of it; and we are in a state of sad confusion: officersquarreling, men disobedient, much talking, and little doing. Here wehave been five days, and the works which have been proposed to bethrown up as defenses, not yet begun. "

"I can not but admire the patience of the king, with so much to harassand annoy him. "

"He must be patient, perforce, " replied Chaloner; "he plays for acrown, and it is a high stake; but he can not command the minds ofmen, although he may the persons. I am no croaker, Beverley, but if wesucceed with this army, as at present disorganized, we shall perform amiracle. "

"We must hope for the best, " replied Edward; "common danger may cementthose who would otherwise be asunder; and when they have the army ofCromwell before them, they may be induced to forget their privatequarrels and jealousies, and unite in the good cause. "

"I wish I could be of your opinion, Beverley, " replied Chaloner; "butI have mixed with the world longer than you have, and I thinkotherwise. "

Several more days passed, during which no defenses were thrown up, andthe confusion and quarreling in the army continued to increase, untilat last news arrived that Cromwell was within half a day's march ofthem, and that he had collected all the militia on his route, and wasnow in numbers nearly double to those in the king's army. All wasamazement and confusion--nothing had been done--no arrangements hadbeen made--Chaloner told Edward that all was lost if immediate stepswere not taken. 

On the 3d of October, the army of Cromwell appeared in sight. Edwardhad been on horseback, attending the king, for the best part of thenight; the disposition of the troops had been made as well as itcould; and it was concluded, as Cromwell's army remained quiet, thatno attempt would be made on that day. About noon the king returned tohis lodging, to take some refreshment after his fatigue. Edward waswith him; but before an hour had passed, the alarm came that thearmies were engaged. The king mounted his horse, which was readysaddled at the door; but before he could ride out of the city, he wasmet and nearly beaten back by the whole body almost of his owncavalry, who came running on with such force that he could not stopthem. His majesty called to several of the officers by name, but theypaid no attention; and so great was the panic, that both the king andhis staff, who attended him, were nearly overthrown, and trampledunder foot. 

Cromwell had passed a large portion of his troops over the riverwithout the knowledge of the opponents, and when tho attack was madein so unexpected a quarter, a panic ensued. Where General Middletonand the Duke Hamilton commanded, a very brave resistance was made; butMiddleton being wounded, Duke Hamilton having his leg taken off by around-shot, and many gentlemen having fallen, the troops, deserted bythe remainder of the army, at last gave way, and the rout was general, the foot throwing away their muskets before they were discharged. 

His majesty rode back into the town, and found a body of horse, whohad been persuaded by Chaloner to make a stand. "Follow me, " said hismajesty; "we will see what the enemy are about. I do not think theypursue, and if so, we may yet rally from this foolish panic. "

His majesty, followed by Edward, Chaloner, and several of his personalstaff, then galloped out to reconnoiter; but to his mortification hefound that the troops had not followed him, but gone out of the townby the other gate, and that the enemy's cavalry in pursuit wereactually in the town. Under such circumstances, by the advice ofChaloner and Edward, his majesty withdrew, and, turning his horse'shead, he made all haste to leave Worcester. After several hours'riding, the king found himself in company of about 4000 of the cavalrywho had so disgracefully fled; but they were still so panic-struckthat he could put no confidence in them, and having advised with thoseabout him, he resolved to quit them. This he did without mentioninghis intention to any of his staff, not even Chaloner or Edward--leaving at night with two of his servants, whom he dismissed as soonas it was daylight, considering that his chance of escape would begreater if he were quite alone. 

It was not till the next morning that they discovered that the kinghad left them, and then they determined to separate, and, as the majorportion were from Scotland, to make what haste they could back to thatcountry. And now Chaloner and Edward consulted as to their plans. 

"It appears to me, " said Edward, laughing, "that the danger of thiscampaign of ours will consist in getting back again to our own homes, for I can most safely assert that I have not as yet struck a blow forthe king. "

"That is true enough, Beverly. When do you purpose going back to theNew Forest? I think, if you will permit me, I will accompany you, "said Chaloner. "All the pursuit will be to the northward, to interceptand overtake the retreat into Scotland. I can not therefore go toLancashire; and, indeed, as they know that I am out, they will belooking for me every where. "

"Then come with me, " said Edward, "I will find you protection till youcan decide what to do. Let us ride on away from this, and we will talkover the matter as we go; but depend upon it. The further south we getthe safer we shall be, but still not safe, unless we can change ourcostume. There will be a strict search for the king to the south, asthey will presume that he will try to get safe to France. Hark! whatis that? I heard the report of arms. Let us ride up this hill and seewhat is going on. "

They did so, and perceived that there was a skirmish between a partyof Cavaliers and some of the Parliamentary cavalry, at about a quarterof a mile distant. 

"Come, Chaloner, let us at all events have one blow, " said Edward. 

"Agreed, " replied Chaloner, spurring his horse; and down they went atfull speed, and in a minute were in the melee, coming on the rear ofthe Parliamentary troops. 

This sudden attack from behind decided the affair. The Parliamentarytroopers, thinking that there were more than two coming upon them, made off after another minute's combat, leaving five or six of theirmen on the ground. 

"Thanks, Chaloner! thanks, Beverley!" said a voice which theyimmediately recognized. It was that of Grenville, one of the king'spages. "These fellows with me were just about to run, if you had notcome to our aid. I will remain with them no longer, but join you ifyou will permit me. At all events, remain here till they go away--Iwill send them off. "

Grenville then said to the men, "My lads, you must all separate, orthere will be no chance of escape. No more than two should ridetogether. Depend upon it, we shall have more of the troops heredirectly. "

The men, about fifteen in number, who had been in company withGrenville, considered that Chaloner's advice was good, and withoutceremony set off, with their horses' heads to the northward, leavingChaloner, Edward, and Grenville together on the field of the affray. About a dozen men were lying on the ground, either dead or severelywounded: seven of them were of the king's party, and the other five ofthe Parliamentary troops. 

"Now, what I propose, " said Edward, "is this: let us do what we canfor those who are wounded, and then strip off the dresses andaccouterments of those Parliamentary dragoons who are dead, and dressourselves in them, accouterments and all. We can then pass through thecountry in safety, as we shall be supposed to be one of the partieslooking for the king. "

"That is a good idea, " replied Chaloner, "and the sooner it is donethe better. "

"Well, " said Edward, wiping his sword, which he still held drawn, andthen sheathing it, "I will take the spoils of this fellow nearest tome: he fell by my hand, and I am entitled to them by the laws of warand chivalry; but first, let us dismount and look to the wounded. "

They tied their horses to a tree, and having given what assistancethey could to the wounded men, they proceeded to strip three of theParliamentary troopers; and then laying aside their own habiliments, they dressed themselves in the uniform of the enemy, and, mountingtheir horses, made all haste from the place. Having gained abouttwelve miles, they pulled up their horses, and rode at a moreleisurely pace. It was now eight o'clock in the evening, but still notvery dark; they therefore rode on another five miles, till they cameto a small village, where they dismounted at an ale-house, and puttheir horses into the stable. 

"We must be insolent and brutal in our manners, or we shall besuspected. "

"Very true, " said Grenville, giving the hostler a kick, and tellinghim to bestir himself, if he did not want his ears cropped. 

They entered the ale-house, and soon found out they were held in greatterror. They ordered every thing of the best to be produced, andthreatened to set fire to the house if it was not; they turned the manand his wife out of their bed, and all three went to sleep in it; and, in short, they behaved in such an arbitrary manner, that nobodydoubted that they were Cromwell's horse. In the morning they set offagain by Chaloner's advice, paying for nothing that they had ordered, although they had all of them plenty of money. They now rode fast, inquiring at the places which they passed through, whether anyfugitives had been seen, and, if they came to a town, inquiring, before they entered, whether there were any Parliamentary troops. Sowell did they manage, that after four days they had gained the skirtsof the New Forest, and concealed themselves in a thicket till night-time, when Edward proposed that he should conduct his fellow-travelersto the cottage, where he would leave them till his plans wereadjusted. 

Edward had already arranged his plans. His great object was to wardoff any suspicion of where he had been, and, of course, any idea thatthe intendant had been a party to his acts; and the fortunate changeof his dress enabled him now to do so with success. He had decided toconduct his two friends to the cottage that night, and the nextmorning to ride over in his Parliamentary costume to the intendant'shouse, and bring the first news of the success of Cromwell and thedefeat at Worcester; by which stratagem it would appear as if he hadbeen with the Parliamentary, and not with the Jacobite, army. 

As they had traveled along, they found that the news of Cromwell'ssuccess had not yet arrived: in those times there was not the rapidityof communication that we now have, and Edward thought it very probablethat he would be the first to communicate the intelligence to theintendant and those who resided near him. 

As soon as it was dusk the three travelers left their retreat, and, guided by Edward, soon arrived at the cottage. Their appearance atfirst created no little consternation, for Humphrey and Pablo happenedto be in the yard, when they heard the clattering of the swords andaccouterments, and through the gloom observed, as they advanced, thatthe party were troopers. At first, Humphrey was for running on andbarring the door; but, on a second reflection, he felt that he couldnot do a more imprudent thing if there was danger; and he thereforecontented himself with hastily imparting the intelligence to hissisters, and then remaining at the threshold to meet the coming of theparties. The voice of Edward calling him by name dissipated all alarm, and in another minute he was in the arms of his brother and sisters. 

"First, let us take our horses to the stables, Humphrey, " said Edward, after the first greeting was over, "and then we will come and partakeof any thing that Alice can prepare for us, for we have not fared overwell for the last three days. "

Accompanied by Humphrey and Pablo, they all went to the stables, andturned out the ponies to make room for the horses; and as soon as theywere all fed and littered down, they returned to the cottage, andChaloner and Grenville were introduced. Supper was soon on the table, and they were too hungry to talk while they were eating, so that butlittle information was gleaned from them that night. However, Humphreyascertained that all was lost, and that they had escaped from thefield previous to Alice and Edith leaving the room to prepare beds forthe new-comers. When the beds were ready, Chaloner and Grenvilleretired, and then Edward remained half an hour with Humphrey, tocommunicate to him what had passed. Of course he could not enter intodetail; but told him that he would get information from their newguests after he had left, which he must do early in the morning. 

"And now, Humphrey, my advice is this. My two friends can not remainin this cottage, for many reasons; but we have the key of Clara'scottage, and they can take up their lodging there, and we can supplythem with all they want, until they find means of going abroad, whichis their intention. I must be off to the intendant's to-morrow, andthe day after I will come over to you. In the mean time, our guestscan remain here, while you and Pablo prepare the cottage for them; andwhen I return every thing shall be settled, and we will conduct themto it. I do not think there is much danger of their being discoveredwhile they remain there, certainly not so much as if they were here;for we must expect parties of troops in every direction now, as theywere when the king's father made his escape from Hampton Court. Andnow to bed, my good brother; and call me early, for I much fear that Ishall not wake up if you do not. "

The brothers then parted for the night. 

The next morning, long before their guests were awake, Edward had beencalled by Humphrey, and found Pablo at the door with his horse. Edward, who had put on his Parliamentary accouterments, bade a hastyfarewell to them, and set off across the forest to the house of theintendant, where he arrived before they had left their bedrooms. Thefirst person he encountered was, very fortunately, Oswald, who was athis cottage door. Edward beckoned to him, being then about one hundredyards off; but Oswald did not recognize him at first, and advancedtoward him in a very leisurely manner, to ascertain what the troopermight wish to inquire. But Edward called him Oswald, and that wassufficient. In a few words Edward told him how all was lost, and howhe had escaped by changing clothes with one of the enemy. 

"I am now come to bring the news to the intendant, Oswald. Youunderstand me, of course?"

"Of course I do, Master Edward, and will take care that it is wellknown that you have been fighting by the side of Cromwell all thistime. I should recommend you to show yourself in this dress for theremainder of the day, and then every one will be satisfied. Shall I goto the intendant's before you?"

"No, no, Oswald; the intendant does not require me to be introduced tohim, of course. I must now gallop up to his house and announce myself. Farewell for the present--I shall see you during the day. "

Edward put spurs to his horse, and arrived at the intendant's at fullspeed, making no small clattering in the yard below as he went in, much to the surprise of Sampson, who came out to ascertain what wasthe cause, and who was not a little surprised at perceiving Edward, who threw himself off the horse, and desiring Sampson to take it tothe stable, entered the kitchen, and disturbed Phoebe, who waspreparing breakfast. Without speaking to her, Edward passed on to theintendant's room, and knocked. 

"Who is there?" said the intendant. 

"Edward Armitage, " was the reply; and the door was opened. Theintendant started back at the sight of Edward in the trooper'scostume. 

"My dear Edward, I am glad to see you in any dress, but this requiresexplanation. Sit down and tell me all. "

"All is soon told, sir, " replied Edward, taking off his iron skull-cap, and allowing his hair to fall down on his shoulders. 

He then, in a few words, stated what had happened, and by what meanshe had escaped, and the reason why he had kept on the trooper'saccouterments, and made his appearance in them. 

"You have done very prudently, " replied the intendant, "and you haveprobably saved me; at all events, you have warded off all suspicion, and those who are spies upon me will now have nothing to report, except to my favor. Your absence has been commented upon, and madeknown at high quarters, and suspicion has arisen in consequence. Yourreturn as one of the Parliamentary forces will now put an end to allill-natured remarks. My dear Edward, you have done me a service. As mysecretary, and having been known to have been a follower of theBeverleys, your absence was considered strange, and it was intimatedat high quarters that you had gone to join the king's forces, and thatwith my knowledge and consent. This I have from Langton; and it has inconsequence injured me not a little: but now your appearance will makeall right again. Now we will first to prayers, and then to breakfast;and after that we will have a more detailed account of what has takenplace since your departure. Patience and Clara will not be sorry torecover their companion; but how they will like you in that dress Ican not pretend to say. However, I thank God that you have returnedsafe to us; and I shall be most happy to see you once more attend inthe more peaceful garb of a secretary. "

"I will, with your permission, sir, not quit this costume for one day, as it may be as well that I should be seen in it. "

"You are right, Edward: for this day retain it; to-morrow you willresume your usual costume. Go down to the parlor; you will findPatience and Clara anxiously waiting for you, I have no doubt. I willjoin you there in ten minutes. "

Edward left the room, and went down stairs. It hardly need be said howjoyfully he was received by Patience and Clara. The former, however, expressed her joy in tears--the latter, in wild mirth. 

We will pass over the explanations and the narrative of what hadoccurred, which was given by Edward to Mr. Heatherstone in his ownroom. The intendant said, as he concluded. 

"Edward, you must now perceive that, for the present, nothing more canbe done; if it pleases the Lord, the time will come when the monarchwill be reseated on his throne; at present, we must bow to the powersthat be; and I tell you frankly, it is my opinion that Cromwell aimsat sovereignty and will obtain it. Perhaps it may be better that weshould suffer the infliction for a time, as for a time only can it beupheld, and it may be the cause of the king being more schooled andmore fitted to reign than, by what you have told me in the course ofyour narrative, he at present appears to be. "

"Perhaps so, sir, " replied Edward. "I must say that the short campaignI have gone through has very much opened my eyes. I have seen butlittle true chivalric feeling, and much of interested motives, inthose who have joined the king's forces. The army collected wascomposed of most discordant elements, and were so discontented, sofull of jealousy and ill-will, that I am not surprised at the result. One thing is certain, that there must be a much better feelingexisting between all parties before such a man as Cromwell can ever bemoved from his position; and, for the present, the cause may beconsidered as lost. "

"You are right, Edward, " replied the intendant; "I would they werebetter, but as they are, let us make the best of them. You have nowseen enough to have subdued that fiery zeal for the cause whichpreviously occupied your whole thoughts; now let us be prudent, andtry if we can not be happy. "

CHAPTER XXIV. 

It was only to Oswald that Edward made known what had occurred; heknew that he was to be trusted. The next day, Edward resumed hisforester's dress, while another one was preparing for him, and wentover to the cottage, where, with the consent of the intendant, heproposed remaining for a few days. Of course, Edward had not failed toacquaint the intendant with his proposed plans relative to Chalonerand Grenville, and received his consent; at the same time advisingthat they should gain the other side of the Channel as soon as theypossibly could. Edward found them all very anxious for his arrival. Humphrey and Pablo had been to the cottage, which they had foundundisturbed since the capture of the robbers, and made every thingready for the reception of the two Cavaliers, as, on their firstjourney, they took with them a cart-load of what they knew would benecessary. Chaloner and Grenville appeared to be quite at homealready, and not very willing to shift their quarters. They, ofcourse, still retained their troopers' clothes, as they had no otherto wear until they could be procured from Lymington; but, as we havebefore mentioned, they were in no want of money. They had been amusingthe girls and Humphrey with a description of what had occurred duringthe campaign, and Edward found that he had but little to tell them, asChaloner had commenced his narrative with an account of his firstmeeting with Edward when he had been attacked by the highwaymen. Assoon as he could get away, Edward went out with Humphrey to have someconversation with him. 

"Now, Humphrey, as you have pretty well heard all my adventures sinceour separation, let me hear what you have been doing. "

"I have no such tales of stirring interest to narrate as Chaloner hasbeen doing as your deputy, Edward, " replied Humphrey. "All I can sayis, that we have had no visitors--that we have longed for your return--and that we have not been idle since you quitted us. "

"What horses were those in the stable, " said Ed ward, "that you turnedout to make room for ours when we arrived?"

Humphrey laughed, and then informed Edward of the manner in which theyhad succeeded in capturing them. 

"Well, you really deserve credit, Humphrey, and certainly were notborn to be secluded in this forest. "

"I rather think that I have found that I was born for it, " repliedHumphrey, "although, I must confess, that since you have quitted us, Ihave not felt so contented here as I did before. You have returned, and you have no idea what an alteration I see in you since you havemixed with the world, and have been a party in such stirring scenes. "

"Perhaps so, Humphrey, " replied Edward; "and yet do you know, that, although I so ardently wished to mix with the world, and to follow thewars, I am any thing but satisfied with what I have seen of it; and sofar from feeling any inclination to return to it, I rather feel moreinclined to remain here, and remain in quiet and in peace. I have beendisappointed, that is the truth. There is a great difference betweenthe world such as we fancy it when we are pining for it, and the worldwhen we actually are placed within the vortex, and perceive the secretsprings of men's actions. I have gained a lesson, but not asatisfactory one, Humphrey; it may be told in a very few words. It isa most deceitful and hollow world! and that is all said in a fewwords. "

"What very agreeable, pleasant young men are Master Chaloner andGrenville, " observed Humphrey. 

"Chaloner I know well, " replied Edward; "he is to be trusted, and heis the only one in whom I have been able to place confidence, andtherefore I was most fortunate in falling in with him as I did on myfirst starting. Grenville, I know little about; we met often, it istrue, but it was in the presence of the king, being both of us on hisstaff; at the same time, I must acknowledge that I know nothingagainst him; and this I do know, which is, that he is brave. "

Edward then narrated what had passed between the intendant and himsince his return; and how well satisfied the intendant had been withhis ruse in returning to him in the dress of a trooper. 

"Talking about that, Edward, do you not think it likely that we shallhave the troopers down here in search of the king?"

"I wonder you have not had them already, " replied Edward. 

"And what shall we do if they arrive?"

"That is all prepared for, " replied Edward; "although, till youmentioned it, I had quite forgotten it. The intendant was talking withme on the subject last night, and here is an appointment for you asverderer, signed by him, which you are to use as you may findnecessary; and here is another missive, ordering you to receive intoyour house two of the troopers who may be sent down here, and findthem quarters and victuals, but not to be compelled to receive more. Until the search is over, Chaloner and Grenville must retain theiraccouterments and remain with us. And, Humphrey, if you have not madeany use of the clothes which I left here--I mean the first dress I hadmade when I was appointed secretary, and which I thought rather toofaded to wear any longer--I will put it on now, as should any militarycome here as scouters to the intendant, I shall have some authorityover them. "

"It is in your chest, where you left it, Edward. The girls did proposeto make two josephs out of it for winter wear, but they never havethought of it since, or have not had time. By-the-by, you have nottold me what you think of Alice and Edith after your long absence. "

"I think they are both very much grown and very much improved, "replied Edward; "but I must confess to you that I think it is hightime that they were, if possible, removed from their present homelyoccupations, and instructed as young ladies should be. "

"But how, Edward, is that to be?"

"That I can not yet tell, and it grieves me that I can not; but stillI see the necessity of it, if ever we are to return to our position insociety. "

"And are we ever to return?"

"I don't know. I thought little of it before I went away and mixed insociety; but since I have been in the world, I have been compelled tofeel that my dear sisters are not in their sphere, and I have resolvedupon trying if I can not find a more suitable position for them. Hadwe been successful I should have had no difficulty, but now I hardlyknow what to do. "

"I have not inquired about Mistress Patience, brother; how is she?"

"She is as good and as handsome as ever, and very much grown; indeed, she is becoming quite womanly. "

"And Clara?"

"Oh, I do not perceive any difference in her: I think she is grown, but I hardly observed her. Here comes Chaloner; we will tell him ofour arrangements in case we are disturbed by the military parties. "

"It is a most excellent arrangement, " said Chaloner, when Edward hadmade the communication; "and it was a lucky day when I first fell inwith you, Beverley. "

"Not Beverley, I pray you; that name is to be forgotten; it was onlyrevived for the occasion. "

"Very true; then, Master Secretary Armitage, I think the arrangementexcellent: the only point will be to find out what troops are sentdown in this direction, as we must of course belong to some otherregiment, and have been pursued from the field of battle. I shouldthink that Lambert's squadrons will not be this way. "

"We will soon ascertain that; let your horses be saddled andaccoutered, so that should any of them make their appearance, thehorses may be at the door. It is my opinion that they will be heresome time to-day. "

"I fear that it will be almost impossible for the king to escape, "observed Chaloner. "I hardly know what to think of his leaving us inthat way. "

"I have reflected upon it, " replied Edward, "and I think it wasperhaps prudent: some were to be trusted and some not; it wasimpossible to know who were and who were not--he therefore trustednobody. Besides, his chance of escape, if quite alone, is greater thanif in company. "

"And yet I feel a little mortified that he did not trust me, "continued Edward; "my life was at his service. "

"He could no more read your heart, than he could mine or others, "observed Chaloner; "and any selection would have been invidious: onthe whole, I think he acted wisely, and I trust that it will prove so. One thing is certain, which is, that all is over now, and that for along while we may let our swords rest in their scabbards. Indeed, I amsickened with it, after what I have seen, and would gladly live herewith you, and help to till the land, away from the world and all itsvexations. What say you, Edward; will you and your brother take me asa laborer till all is quiet again?"

"You would soon tire of it, Chaloner; you were made for activeexertion and bustling in the world. "

"Nevertheless, I think, under two such amiable and pretty mistresses, I could stay well contented here; it is almost Arcadian. But still itis selfish for me to talk in this way; indeed, my feelings arecontrary to my words. "

"How do you mean, Chaloner?"

"To be candid with you, Edward, I was thinking what a pity it is thattwo such sweet girls as your sisters should be employed here indomestic drudgery, and remain in such an uncultivated state--if I maybe pardoned for speaking so freely--but I do so because I am convincedthat, if in proper hands, they would grace a court; and you must feelthat I am right. "

"Do you not think that the same feelings have passed in my mind, Chaloner? Indeed, Humphrey will tell you that we were speaking on thesame subject but an hour ago. You must, however, be aware of thedifficulty I am in: were I in possession of Arnwood and its domain, then indeed--but that is all over now, and I presume I shall shortlysee my own property, whose woods are now in sight of me, made over tosome Roundhead, for good services against the Cavaliers at Worcester. "

"Edward, " replied Chaloner, "I have this to say to you. And I can sayit because you know that I am indebted to you for my life, and that isa debt that nothing can cancel: if at any time you determine uponremoving your sisters from this, recollect my maiden aunts atPortlake. They can not be in better hands, and they can not be in thehands of any person who will more religiously do their duty towardthem, and be pleased with the trust confided to them. They are rich, in spite of exactions; but in these times, women are not fined andplundered as men are; and they have been well able to afford all thathas been taken from them, and all that they have voluntarily given tothe assistance of our party. They are alone, and I really believe thatnothing would make them more happy than to have the care of the twosisters of Edward Beverley--be sure of that. But I will be more sureof it if you will find means of sending to them a letter which I shallwrite to them. I tell you that you will do them a favor, and that ifyou do not accept the offer, you will sacrifice your sisters' welfareto your own pride--which I do not think you would do. "

"Most certainly I will not do that, " replied Edward; "and I am fullysensible of your kind offer; but I can say no more until I hear whatyour good aunts may reply to your letter. You mistake me much, Chaloner, if you think that any sense of obligation would prevent mefrom seeing my sisters removed from a position so unworthy of them, but which circumstances have driven them to. That we are paupers, isundeniable, but I never shall forgot that my sisters are the daughtersof Colonel Beverley. "

"I am delighted with your reply, Edward, and I fear not that of mygood aunts. It will be a great happiness to me when I am wanderingabroad to know that your sisters are under their roof, and are beingeducated as they ought to be. "

"What's the matter, Pablo?" said Humphrey to the former, who camerunning, out of breath. 

"Soldiers, " said Pablo, "plenty of them, gallop this way--gallop everyway. "

"Now, Chaloner, we must get ourselves out of this scrape, and I trustthat afterward all be well, " said Edward. "Bring the horses out to thedoor; and, Chaloner, you and Grenville must wait within; bring myhorse out also, as it will appear as if I had just ridden over. I mustin to change my dress. Humphrey, keep a look-out and let us know whenthey come. "

Chaloner and Edward went in, and Edward put on his dress of secretary. Shortly afterward, a party of Roundhead cavalry were seen gallopingtoward the cottage. They soon arrived there, and pulled up theirhorses. An officer who headed them addressed Humphrey in a haughtytone, and asked him who he was. 

"I am one of the verderers of the forest, sir, " replied Humphrey, respectfully. 

"And whose cottage is that? and who have you there?"

"The cottage is mine, sir; two of the horses at the door belong to twotroopers who have come in quest of those who fled from Worcester, theother horse belongs to the secretary of the intendant of the forest, Master Heatherstone, who has come over with directions from theintendant as to the capture of the rebels. "

At this moment, Edward came out and saluted the officer. 

"This is the secretary, sir, Master Armitage, " said Humphrey, fallingback. 

Edward again saluted the officer, and said--

"Master Heatherstone, the intendant, has sent me over here to makearrangements for the capture of the rebels. This man is ordered tolodge two troopers as long as they are considered necessary to remain;and I have directions to tell any officer whom I may meet, that MasterHeatherstone and his verderers will take good care that none of therebels are harbored in this direction; arid that it will be betterthat the troops scour the southern edge of the forest, as it iscertain that the fugitives will try all that they can to embark forFrance. "

"What regiment do the troopers belong to that you have here?"

"I believe to Lambert's troop, sir; but they shall come out and answerfor themselves. Tell those men to come out, " said Edward to Humphrey. 

"Yes, sir, but they are hard to wake, for they have ridden fromWorcester; but I will rouse them. "

"Nay, I can not wait, " replied the officer. "I know none of Lambert'stroops, and they have no information to give. "

"Could you not take them with you, sir, and leave two of your meninstead of them; for they are troublesome people to a poor man, anddevour every thing?" said Humphrey, submissively. 

"No, no, " replied the officer, laughing, "we all know Lambert'speople--a friend or enemy is much the same to them. I have no powerover them, and you must make the best of it. Forward! men, " continuedthe officer, saluting Edward as he passed on; and in a minute or twothey were far away. 

"That's well over, " observed Edward. "Chaloner and Grenville are tooyoung-looking and too good-looking for Lambert's villains; and a sightof them might have occasioned suspicion. We must, however, expect morevisits. Keep a good look-out, Pablo. "

Edward and Humphrey then went in and joined the party inside thecottage, who were in a state of no little suspense during the colloquyoutside. 

"Why, Alice, dearest! you look quite pale!" said Edward, as he camein. 

"I feared for our guests, Edward. I'm sure that if they had come intothe cottage, Master Chaloner and Master Grenville would never havebeen believed to be troopers. "

"We thank you for the compliment, Mistress Alice, " said Chaloner; "butI think, if necessary, I could ruffle and swear with the best, orrather the worst of them. We passed for troopers very well on the roadhere. "

"Yes, but you did not meet any other troopers. "

"That's very true, and shows your penetration. I must acknowledgethat, with troopers, there would have been more difficulty; but still, among so many thousands, there must be many varieties, and it would bean awkward thing for an officer of one troop to arrest upon suspicionthe men belonging to another. I think when we are visited again Ishall sham intoxication--that will not be very suspicious. "

"No, not on either side, " replied Edward. "Come, Alice, we will eatwhat dinner you may have ready for us. "

For three or four days the Parliamentary forces continued to scour theforest, and another visit or two was paid to the cottage, but withoutsuspicion being created, in consequence of the presence of Edward andhis explanations. The parties were invariably sent in anotherdirection. Edward wrote to the intendant, informing him what hadoccurred, and requesting permission to remain a few days longer at thecottage; and Pablo, who took the letter, returned with one from theintendant, acquainting him that the king had not yet been taken; aridrequesting the utmost vigilance on his part to insure his capture, with directions to search various places, in company with the trooperswho had been stationed at the cottage; or, if he did not like to leavethe cottage, to shew the letter to any officer commanding parties insearch, that they might act upon the suggestions contained in it. Thisletter Edward had an opportunity of showing to one or two officers, commanding parties, who approached the cottage, and to whom Edwardwent out to communicate with, thereby preventing their stopping there. 

At last, in about a fortnight, there was not a party in the forest;all of them having gone down to the seaside, to look out for thefugitives, several of whom were taken. 

Humphrey took the cart to Lymington, to procure clothes for Chalonerand Grenville, and it was decided that they should assume those ofverderers of the forest, which would enable them to carry a gun. Assoon as Humphrey had obtained what was requisite, Chaloner andGrenville were conducted to Clara's cottage, and took possession, ofcourse never showing themselves outside the wood which surrounded it. Humphrey lent them Holdfast as a watch, and they took leave of Aliceand Edith with much regret. Humphrey and Edward accompanied them totheir new abode. It was arranged that the horses should remain underthe care of Humphrey, as they had no stable at Clara's cottage. 

On parting, Chaloner gave Edward the letter for his aunts; and thenEdward once more bent his steps toward the intendant's house, andfound himself in the company of Patience and Clara. 

Edward narrated to the intendant all that had occurred, and theintendant approved of what he had done, strongly advising thatChaloner and Grenville should not attempt to go to the Continent tillall pursuit was over. 

"Here's a letter I have received from the government, Edward, highlycommending my vigilance and activity in pursuit of the fugitives. Itappears that the officers you fell in with have written up to statewhat admirable dispositions we had made. It is a pity, is it not, Edward, that we are compelled to be thus deceitful in this world?Nothing but the times, and the wish to do good, could warrant it. Wemeet the wicked, and fight them with their own weapons; but althoughit is treating them as they deserve, our conscience must tell us thatit is not right. "

"Surely, sir, to save the lives of people who have committed no otherfault except loyalty to their king, will warrant our so doing--atleast, I hope so. "

"According to the Scriptures, I fear it will not, but it is adifficult, question for us to decide. Let us be guided by our ownconsciences; if they do not reproach us, we can not be far fromright. "

Edward then produced the letter he had received from Chaloner, requesting that the intendant would have the kindness to forward it. 

"I see, " replied the intendant; "I can forward these through Langton. I presume it is to obtain credit for money. It shall go on Thursday. "

The conference was then broken up, and Edward went to see Oswald. 

CHAPTER XXV. 

For several days Edward remained at home, anxiously awaiting everynews which arrived; expecting every time that the capture of the kingwould be announced, and, with great joy, finding that hitherto allefforts had been unsuccessful. But there was a question which nowarose in Edward's mind, and which was the cause of deep reflection. Since the proposal of sending his sisters away had been started, hefelt the great inconvenience of his still representing himself to theintendant as the grandson of Armitage. His sisters, if sent to theladies at Portlake, must be sent without the knowledge of theintendant; and if so, the discovery of their absence would soon takeplace, as Patience Heatherstone would be constantly going over to thecottage; and he now asked himself the question, whether, after all thekindness and confidence which the intendant had shown him, he wasright in any longer concealing from him his birth and parentage. Hefelt that he was doing the intendant an injustice, in not showing tohim that confidence which ho deserved. 

That he was justified in so doing at first, he felt; but since thejoining the king's army, and the events which had followed, heconsidered that he was treating the intendant ill, and he now resolvedto take the first opportunity of making the confession. But to do itformally, and without some opportunity which might offer, he feltawkward. At last he thought that he would at once make the confessionto Patience, under the promise of secrecy. That he might do at once;and, after he had done so, the intendant could not tax him with wantof confidence altogether. He had now analyzed his feelings towardPatience; and he felt how dear she had become to him. During the timehe was with the army, she had seldom been out of his thoughts; andalthough he was often in the society of well bred women, he saw notone that, in his opinion, could compare with Patience Heatherstone;but still, what chance had he of supporting a wife? at present, at theage of nineteen, it was preposterous. Thoughts like these ran in hismind, chasing each other, and followed by others as vague andunsatisfactory; and, in the end, Edward came to the conclusion, thathe was without a penny, and that being known as the heir of Beverleywould be to his disadvantage; that he was in love with PatienceHeatherstone, and had no chance at present of obtaining her; and thathe done well up to the present time in concealing who he was from theintendant, who could safely attest that he knew not that he wasprotecting the son of so noted a Cavalier; and that he would confessto Patience who he was, and give as a reason for not telling herfather, that he did not wish to commit him by letting him know who itwas that was under his protection. How far the reader may be satisfiedwith the arguments which Edward was satisfied with, we can not pretendto say; but Edward was young, and hardly knew how to extricate himselffrom the cloak which necessity had first compelled him to put on. Edward was already satisfied that he was not quite looked upon withindifference by Patience Heatherstone; and he was not yet certainwhether it was not a grateful feeling that she had toward him morethan any other; that she believed him to be beneath her in birth, hefelt convinced, and therefore she could have no idea that he wasEdward Beverley. It was not till several days after he had made up hismind that he had an opportunity of being with her alone, as ClaraRatcliffe was their constant companion. However, one evening Clarawent out, and staid out so long, carelessly wrapped up, that shecaught cold; and the following evening she remained at home, leavingEdward and Patience to take their usual walk unaccompanied by her. They had walked for some minutes in silence, when Patience observed, "You are very grave, Edward, and have been very grave ever since yourreturn; have you any thing to vex you beyond the failure of theattempt. "

"Yes, I have, Patience. I have much on my conscience, and do not knowhow to act. I want an adviser and a friend, and know not where to findone. "

"Surely, Edward, my father is your sincere friend, and not a badadviser. "

"I grant it; but the question is between your father and me, and I cannot advise with him for that reason. "

"Then advise with me, Edward, if it is not a secret of such momentthat it is not to be trusted to a woman; at all events it will be theadvice of a sincere friend; you will give me credit for that. "

"Yes, and for much more; for I think I shall have good advice, andwill therefore accept your offer. I feel, Patience, that although Iwas justified, on my first acquaintance with your father, in notmaking known to him a secret of some importance, yet now that he hasput such implicit confidence, in me, I am doing him and myself aninjustice in not making the communication--that is, as far asconfidence in him is concerned. I consider that he has a right to knowall, and yet I feel that it would be prudent on my part that he shouldnot know all, as the knowledge might implicate him with those withwhom he is at present allied. A secret sometimes is dangerous; and ifyour father could not say that on his honor he knew not of the secret, it might harm him if the secret became afterward known. Do youunderstand me?"

"I can not say that I exactly do; you have a secret that you wish tomake known to my father, and you think the knowledge of it may harmhim. I can not imagine what kind of secret that may be. "

"Well, I can give you a case in point. Suppose now that I knew thatKing Charles was hidden in your stable-loft: such might be the case, and your father be ignorant of it, and his assertion of his ignorancewould be believed; but if I were to tell your father that the king wasthere, and it was afterward discovered, do you not see that, byconfiding such a secret to him, I should do harm, and perhaps bringhim into trouble?"

"I perceive now, Edward; do you mean to say that you know where theking is concealed? for, if you do, I must beg of you not let my fatherknow any thing about it. As you say, it would put him in a difficultposition, and must eventually harm him much. There is a greatdifference between wishing well to a cause and supporting it inperson. My father wishes the king well, I believe, but, at the sametime, he will not take an active part, as you have already seen; atthe same time, I am convinced that he would never betray the king ifhe knew where he was. I say, therefore, if that is your secret, keepit from him, for his sake and for mine, Edward, if you regard me. "

"You know not how much I regard you, Patience. I saw many highbornwomen when I was away, but none could I see equal to PatienceHeatherstone, in my opinion; and Patience was ever in my thoughtsduring my long absence. "

"I thank you for your kind feelings toward me, " replied Patience;"but, Master Armitage, we were talking about your secret. "

"Master Armitage!" rejoined Edward; "how well you know how to remindme, by that expression, of my obscure birth and parentage, whenever Iam apt to forget the distance which I ought to observe!"

"You are wrong!" replied Patience; "but you flattered me so grossly, that I called you Master Armitage to show that I disliked flattery, that was all. I dislike flattery from those who are above me in rank, as well as those who are below me; and I should have done the same toany other person, whatever his condition might be. But forget what Isaid, I did not mean to vex you, only to punish you for thinking me sosilly as to believe such nonsense. "

"Your humility may construe that into flattery which was said by me inperfect sincerity and truth-that I can not help, " replied Edward. "Imight have added much more, and yet have been sincere; if you had notreminded me of my not being of gentle birth, I might have had thepresumption to have told you much more; but I have been rebuked. "

Edward finished speaking, and Patience made no reply; they walked onfor several moments without exchanging another syllable. At lastPatience said, "I will not say who is wrong, Edward; but this I do know, that the onewho first offers the olive branch after a misunderstanding, can notbut be right. I offer it now, and ask you whether we are to quarrelabout one little word. Let me ask you, and give me a candid answer:Have I ever been so base as to treat as an inferior one to whom I havebeen so much obliged?"

"It is I who am in fault, Patience, " replied Edward. "I have beendreaming for a long while, pleased with my dreams, and forgetting thatthey were dreams, and not likely to be realized. I must now speakplainly. I love you, Patience; love you so much, that to part from youwould be misery-to know that my love was rejected, as bitter as death. That is the truth, and I can conceal it no longer. Now I admit youhave a right to be angry. "

"I see no cause for anger, Edward, " replied Patience. "I have notthought of you but as a friend and benefactor; it would have beenwrong to have done otherwise. I am but a young person, and must beguided by my father. I would not offend him by disobedience. I thankyou for your good opinion of me, and yet I wish you had not said whatyou have. "

"Am I to understand from your reply, that, if your father raised noobjection, my lowly birth would be none in your opinion?"

"Your birth has never come into my head, except when reminded of it byyourself. "

"Then, Patience, let me return for the present to what I had toconfide to you. I was--"

"Here comes my father, Edward, " said Patience. "Surely I have donewrong, for I feel afraid to meet him. "

Mr. Heatherstone now joined them, and said to Edward--

"I have been looking for you: I have news from London which hasrejoiced me much. I have at last obtained what I have some time beentrying for; and, indeed, I may say, that your prudence and boldness inreturning home as a trooper, added to your conduct in the forest, hasgreatly advanced, and ultimately obtained for me, my suit. There wassome suspense before that, but your conduct has removed it; and now weshall have plenty to do. "

They walked to the house, and the intendant, as soon as he had gainedhis own room, said to Edward--

"There is a grant to me of a property which I have long solicited formy services--read it. "

Edward took up the letter in which the Parliament informed Mr. Heatherstone that his application to the property of Arnwood had beenacceded to, and signed by the commissioners; and that he might takeimmediate possession. Edward turned pale as he laid the document downon the table. 

"We will ride to-morrow, Edward, and look it over. I intend to rebuildthe house. "

Edward made no reply. 

"Are you not well?" said the intendant, with surprise. 

"Yes, sir, " replied Edward, "I am well, I believe; but I confess toyou that I am disappointed. I did not think that you would haveaccepted a property from such a source, and so unjustly sequestrated. "

"I am sorry, Edward, " replied the intendant, "that I should havefallen in your good opinion; but allow me to observe that you are sofar right that I never would have accepted a property to which therewere living claimants; but this is a different case. For instance, theRatcliffe property belongs to little Clara, and is sequestrated. Doyou think I would accept it? Never! But here is property without anheir; the whole family perished in the flames of Arnwood! There is noliving claimant! It must be given to somebody, or remain with thegovernment. This property, therefore, and this property only, out ofall sequestrated, I selected, as I felt that, in obtaining it, I didharm to no one. I have been offered others, but have refused them. Iwould accept of this, and this only; and that is the reason why myapplications have hitherto been attended with no success. I trust youbelieve me, Edward, in what I assert?"

"First answer me one question, Mr. Heatherstone. Suppose it wereproved that the whole of the family did not, as it is supposed, perishat the conflagration of Arnwood? Suppose a rightful heir to it shouldat any time appear, would you then resign the property to him?"

"As I hope for Heaven, Edward, I would!" replied the intendant, solemnly raising his eyes upward as he spoke. "I then should thinkthat I had been an instrument to keep the property out of other handsless scrupulous, and should surrender it as a trust which had beenconfided to me for the time only. "

"With such feelings, Mr. Heatherstone, I can now congratulate you uponyour having obtained possession of the property, " replied Edward. 

"And yet I do not deserve so much credit, as there is little chance ofmy sincerity being put to the test, Edward. There is no doubt that thefamily all perished; and Arnwood will become the dower of PatienceHeatherstone. "

Edward's heart beat quick. A moment's thought told him his situation. He had been prevented, by the interruption of Mr. Heatherstone, frommaking his confession to Patience; and now he could not make it to anybody without a rupture with the intendant, or a compromise, by askingwhat he so earnestly desired--the hand of Patience. Mr. Heatherstoneobserving to Edward that he did not look well, said supper was ready, and that they had better go into the next room. Edward mechanicallyfollowed. At supper he was tormented by the incessant inquiries ofClara, as to what was the matter with him. He did not venture to lookat Patience, and made a hasty retreat to bed, complaining, as he mightwell do, of a severe headache. 

Edward threw himself on his bed, but to sleep was impossible. Hethought of the events of the day over and over again. Had he anyreason to believe that Patience returned his affection? No; her replywas too calm, too composed to make him suppose that; and now that shewould be an heiress, there would be no want of pretenders to her hand;and he would lose her and his property at the same time. It was truethat the intendant had declared that he would renounce the property ifthe true heir appeared, but that was easy to say upon the convictionthat no heir would appear; and even if he did renounce it, theParliament would receive it again rather than it should fall into thehands of a Beverley. "Oh that I had never left the cottage!" thoughtEdward. "I might then, at least, have become resigned and contentedwith my lot. Now I am miserable, and, whichever way I turn, I see noprospect of being otherwise. One thing only I can decide upon, whichis, that I will not remain any longer than I can help under this roof. I will go over and consult with Humphrey; and if I can only place mysisters as I want, Humphrey and I will seek our fortunes. "

Edward rose at daylight, and, dressing himself, went down and saddledhis horse. Desiring Sampson to tell the intendant that he had goneover to the cottage and would return by the evening, he rode acrossthe forest, and arrived just as they were sitting down to breakfast. His attempts to be cheerful before his sisters did not succeed, andthey were all grieved to see him look so pale and haggard. As soon asbreakfast was over, Edward made a sign, and he and Humphrey went out. 

"What is the matter, my dear brother?" said Humphrey. 

"I will tell you all. Listen to me, " replied Edward, who then gave himthe detail of all that had passed from the time he had walked out withPatience Heatherstone till he went to bed. "Now, Humphrey, you knowall; and what shall I do? remain there I can not!"

"If Patience Heatherstone had professed regard for you, " repliedHumphrey, "the affair had been simple enough. Her father could have noobjections to the match; and he would at the same time have acquittedhis conscience as to the retaining of the property: but you say sheshowed none. "

"She told me very calmly that she was sorry that I had said what Idid. "

"But do women always mean what they say, brother?" said Humphrey. 

"She does, at all events, " replied Edward; "she is truth itself. No, Ican not deceive myself. She feels a deep debt of gratitude for theservice I rendered her; and that prevented her from being more harshin her reply than what she was. "

"But if she knew that you were Edward Beverley, do you not think itwould make a difference in her?"

"And if it did, it would be too humiliating to think that I was onlymarried for my rank and station. "

"But, considering you of mean birth, may she not have checked thosefeelings which she considered under the circumstances improper toindulge?"

"Where there is such a sense of propriety there can be littleaffection. "

"I know nothing about these things, Edward, " replied Humphrey; "but Ihave been told that a woman's heart is not easily read; or if I havenot been told it, I have read it or dreamed it. "

"What do you propose to do?"

"What I fear you will not approve of, Humphrey; it is to break up ourestablishment altogether. If the answer is favorable from the MissesConynghame my sisters shall go to them; but that we had agreed uponalready. Then for myself--I intend to go abroad, resume my name, andobtain employment in some foreign service. I will trust to the kingfor assisting me to that. "

"That is the worst part of it, Edward; but if your peace of minddepends upon it, I will not oppose it. "

"You, Humphrey, may come with me and share my fortunes, or do what youthink more preferable. "

"I think then, Edward, that I shall not decide rashly. I must haveremained here with Pablo if my sisters had gone to the LadiesConynghame and you had remained with the intendant; I shall, therefore, till I hear from you, remain where I am, and shall be ableto observe what is going on here, and let you know. "

"Be it so, " replied Edward; "let me only see my sisters well placed, and I shall be off the next day. It is misery to remain there now. "

After some more conversation, Edward mounted his horse and returned tothe intendant's. He did not arrive till late, for supper was on thetable. The intendant gave him a letter for Mr. Chaloner, which wasinclosed in one from Mr. Langton; and further informed Edward thatnews had arrived of the king having made his escape to France. 

"Thank God for that!" exclaimed Edward. "With your leave, sir, I willto-morrow deliver this letter to the party to whom it is addressed, asI know it to be of consequence. "

The intendant having given his consent, Edward retired without havingexchanged a word with Patience or Clara beyond the usual civilities ofthe table. 

The following morning, Edward, who had not slept an hour during thenight, set off for Clara's cottage, and found Chaloner and Grenvillestill in bed. At the sound of his voice the door was opened, and hegave Chaloner the letter; the latter read it and then handed it toEdward. The Misses Conynghame were delighted at the idea of receivingthe two daughters of Colonel Beverley, and would treat them as theirown; they requested that they might be sent to London immediately, where the coach would meet them to convey them down to Lancashire. They begged to be kindly remembered to Captain Beverley, and to assurehim that his sisters should be well cared for. 

"I am much indebted to you, Chaloner, " said Edward; "I will send mybrother off with my sisters as soon as possible. You will soon thinkof returning to France; and if you will permit me, I will accompanyyou. "

"You, Edward! that will be delightful; but you had no idea of the kindwhen last we met. What has induced you to alter your mind?"

"I will tell you by-and-by; I do not think I shall be here again forsome days. I must be a great deal at the cottage when Humphrey isaway, for Pablo will have a great charge upon him--what with thedairy, and horses, and breed of goats, and other things--more than hecan attend to; but as soon as Humphrey returns, I will come to you andmake preparations for our departure. Till then, farewell, both of you. We must see to provision you for three weeks or a month, beforeHumphrey starts. "

Edward bade them a hearty farewell, and then rode to the cottage. 

Although Alice and Edith had been somewhat prepared for leaving thecottage, yet the time was so very uncertain, that the blow fell heavyupon them. They were to leave their brothers whom they loved sodearly, to go to strangers; and when they understood that they were toleave in two days, and that they should not see Edward again, theirgrief was very great; but Edward reasoned with Alice and consoled her, although with Edith it was a more difficult task. She not onlylamented her brothers, but her cow, her pony, and her kids; all thedumb animals were friends and favorites of Edith; and even the idea ofparting with Pablo, was the cause of a fresh burst of tears. Havingmade every arrangement with Humphrey, Edward once more took his leave, promising to come over and assist Pablo as soon as he could. 

The next day Humphrey was busied in his preparations. They suppliedthe provisions to Clara's cottage; and when Pablo took them over inthe cart, Humphrey rode to Lymington and provided a conveyance toLondon for the following day. We may as well observe, that they setoff at the hour appointed, and arrived safely at London in three days. There, at an address given in a letter, they found the coach waiting;and having given his sisters into the charge of an elderly waiting-woman, who had come up in the coach to take charge of them, theyquitted him with many tears, and Humphrey hastened back to the NewForest. 

On his return, he found to his surprise that Edward had not called atthe cottage as he had promised; and with a mind foreboding evil, hemounted a horse and set off across the forest to ascertain the cause. As he was close to the intendant's house he was met by Oswald, whoinformed him that Edward had been seized with a violent fever, and wasin a very dangerous state, having been delirious for three or fourdays. 

Humphrey hastened to dismount, and knocked at the door of the house;it was opened by Sampson, and Humphrey requested to be shown up to hisbrother's room. He found Edward in the state described by Oswald, andwholly unconscious of his presence; the maid, Phoebe, was by hisbedside. 

"You may leave, " said Humphrey, rather abruptly; "I am his brother. "

Phoebe retired, and Humphrey was alone with his brother. 

"It was, indeed, an unhappy day when you came to this house, "exclaimed Humphrey, as the tears rolled down his cheeks; "my poor, poor Edward!"

Edward now began to talk incoherently, and attempted to rise from thebed, but his efforts were unavailing--he was too weak; but he raved ofPatience Heatherstone, and he called himself Edward Beverley more thanonce, and he talked of his father and of Arnwood. 

"If he has raved in this manner, " thought Humphrey, "he has not manysecrets left to disclose. I will not leave him, and will keep othersaway if I can. "

Humphrey had been sitting an hour with his brother, when the surgeoncame to see his patient. He felt his pulse, and asked Humphrey if hewas nursing him. 

"I am his brother, sir, " replied Humphrey. 

"Then, my good sir, if you perceive any signs of perspiration--and Ithink now that there is a little--keep the clothes on him and let himperspire freely. If so, his life will be saved. "

The surgeon withdrew, saying that he would return again late in theevening. 

Humphrey remained for another two hours at the bedside, and thenfeeling that there was a sign of perspiration, he obeyed theinjunctions of the surgeon, and held on the clothes against allEdward's endeavors to throw them off. For a short time theperspiration was profuse, and the restlessness of Edward subsided intoa deep slumber. 

"Thank Heaven! there are then hopes. "

"Did you say there were hopes?" repeated a voice behind him. 

Humphrey turned round and perceived Patience and Clara behind him, whohad come in without his observing it. 

"Yes, " replied Humphrey, looking reproachfully at Patience, "there arehopes, by what the surgeon said to me--hopes that he may yet be ableto quit this house which he was so unfortunate as to enter. "

This was a harsh and rude speech of Humphrey; but he considered thatPatience Heatherstone had been the cause of his brother's dangerousstate, and that she had not behaved well to him. 

Patience made no reply, but falling down on her knees by the bedside, prayed silently; and Humphrey's heart smote him for what he had saidto her. "She can not be so bad, " thought Humphrey, as Patience andClara quitted the room without the least noise. 

Shortly afterward the intendant came up into the room and offered hishand to Humphrey, who pretended not to see it, and did not take it. 

"He has got Arnwood: that is enough for him, " thought Humphrey; "butmy hand in friendship he shall not receive. "

The intendant put his hand within the clothes, and feeling the highperspiration that Edward was in, said--

"I thank thee, O God! for all thy mercies, and that thou hast beenpleased to spare this valuable life. How are your sisters, MasterHumphrey?" said the intendant; "my daughter bade me inquire. I willsend over to them and let them know that your brother is better, ifyou do not leave this for the cottage yourself after the surgeon hascalled again. "

"My sisters are no longer at the cottage, Master Heatherstone, "replied Humphrey; "they have gone to some friends who have takencharge of them. I saw them safe to London myself, or I should haveknown of my brother's illness and have been here before this. "

"You indeed tell me news, Master Humphrey, " replied the intendant. "With whom, may I ask, are your sisters placed, and in what capacityare they gone?"

This reply of the intendant's reminded Humphrey that he had somewhatcommitted himself, as, being supposed to be the daughters of aforester, it was not to be thought that they had gone up to beeducated; and he therefore replied--

"They found it lonely in the forest, Master Heatherstone, and wishedto see London; so we have taken them there, and put them into the careof those who have promised that they shall be well placed. "

The intendant appeared to be much disturbed and surprised, but he saidnothing, and soon afterward quitted the room. He almost immediatelyreturned with the surgeon, who, as soon as he felt Edward's pulse, declared that the crisis was over, and that when he awoke he would bequite sensible. Having given directions as to the drink of hispatient, and some medicine which he was to take, the surgeon thenleft, stating that he should not call until the next evening, unlesshe was sent for, as he considered all danger over. 

Edward continued in a quiet slumber for the major portion of thenight. It was just break of day when he opened his eyes. Humphreyoffered him some drink, which Edward took greedily; and seeingHumphrey, said--

"Oh, Humphrey, I had quite forgotten where I was--I'm so sleepy!" andwith these words his head fell on the pillow, and he was again asleep. 

When it was broad daylight, Oswald came into the room:

"Master Humphrey, they say that all danger is over now, but that youhave remained here all night. I will relieve you now if you will letme. Go and take a walk in the fresh air--it will revive you. "

"I will, Oswald, and many thanks. My brother has woke up once, and, Ithank God, is quite sensible. He will know you when he wakes again, and then do you send for me. "

Humphrey left the room, and was glad, after a night of closeconfinement in a sick-room, to feel the cool morning air fanning hischeeks. He had not been long out of the house before he perceivedClara coming toward him. 

"How d'ye do, Humphrey?" said Clara; "and how is your brother thismorning?"

"He is better, Clara, and I hope now out of danger. "

"But, Humphrey, " continued Clara, "when we came into the room lastnight, what made you say what you did?"

"I do not recollect that I said any thing. "

"Yes, you did; you said that there were now hopes that your brotherwould be able soon to quit this house which he had been so unfortunateas to enter. Do you recollect?"

"I may have said so, Clara, " replied Humphrey; "it was only speakingmy thoughts aloud. "

"But why do you think so, Humphrey? Why has Edward been unfortunate inentering this house? That is what I want to know. Patience cried somuch after she left the room because you said that. Why did you sayso? You did not think so a short time ago. "

"No, my dear Clara, I did not, but I do now, and I can not give you myreasons; so you must say no more about it. "

Clara was silent for a time, and then said--

"Patience tells me that your sisters have gone away from the cottage. You told her father so. "

"It is very true; they have gone. "

"But why have they gone? What have they gone for? Who is to look afterthe cows, and goats, and poultry? Who is to cook your dinner, Humphrey? What can you do without them, and why did you send them awaywithout letting me or Patience know that they were going, so that atleast we might have bid them farewell?"

"My dear Clara, " replied Humphrey--who, feeling no little difficultyin replying to all these questions, resolved to cut the matter short, by appearing to be angry--"you know that you are the daughter of agentleman, and so is Patience Heatherstone. You are both of gentlebirth, but my sisters, you know, are only the daughters of a forester, and my brother Edward and I are no better. It does not become MistressPatience and you to be intimate with such as we are, especially nowthat Mistress Patience is a great heiress; for her father has obtainedthe large property of Arnwood, and it will be hers after his death. Itis not fit that the heiress of Arnwood should mix herself up withforesters' daughters; and as we had friends near Lymington, whooffered to assist us, and take our sisters under their charge, wethought it better that they should go; for what would become of them, if any accident was to happen to Edward or to me? Now they will beprovided for. After they have been taught, they will make very nicetirewomen to some lady of quality, " added Humphrey, with a sneer. "Don't you think they will, my pretty Clara?"

Clara burst into tears. 

"You are very unkind, Humphrey, " sobbed she. "You had no right to sendaway your sisters. I don't believe you--that's more!" and Clara ranaway into the house. 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

Our readers may think that Humphrey was very unkind, but it was toavoid being questioned by Clara, who was evidently sent for thepurpose, that he was so harsh. At the same time it must be admitted, that Mr. Heatherstone having obtained possession of Arnwood, rankled, no doubt, in the minds of both the brothers, and every act now, on thepart of him or his family, was viewed in a false medium. But ourfeelings are not always at our control, and Edward was naturallyimpetuous, and Humphrey so much attached, and so much alarmed at hisbrother's danger, that he was even more excited. The blow fell doublyheavy, as it appeared that at the very same time Patience had rejectedhis brother, and taken possession of their property, which had beenheld by the family for centuries. What made the case more annoyingwas, that explanation, if there was any to offer on either side, was, under present circumstances, almost impossible. 

Soon after Clara left him, Humphrey returned to his brother's room. Hefound him awake and talking to Oswald. Ardently pressing his brother'shand, Edward said--

"My dear Humphrey, I shall soon be well now, and able, I trust, toquit this house. What I fear is, that some explanation will be askedfor by the intendant, not only relative to my sisters having left us, but also upon other points. This is what I wish to avoid withoutgiving offense. I do not think that the intendant is so much to blamein having obtained my property, as he does not know that a Beverleyexisted; but I can not bear to have any further intimacy with him, especially after what has taken place between me and his daughter. What I have to request is, that you will never quit this room while Iam still here unless you are relieved by Oswald; so that the intendantor any body else may have no opportunity of having any privatecommunication with me, or forcing me to listen to what they may haveto say. I made this known to Oswald before you came in. "

"Depend upon it, it shall be so, Edward, for I am of your opinion. Clara came tome just now, and I had much trouble, and was compelled tobe harsh, to get rid of her importunity. "

When the surgeon called, he pronounced Edward out of danger, and thathis attendance would be no longer necessary. Edward felt the truth ofthis. All that he required was strength; and that he trusted in a fewdays to obtain. 

Oswald was sent over to the cottage, to ascertain how Pablo was goingon by himself. He found that every thing was correct, and that Pablo, although he felt proud of his responsibility, was very anxious forHumphrey's return, as he found himself very lonely. During Oswald'sabsence on this day, Humphrey never quitted the room; and although theintendant came up several times, he never could find an opportunity ofspeaking to Edward, which he evidently wished to do. 

To the inquiries made as to how he was, Edward always complained ofgreat weakness, for a reason which will soon be understood. Severaldays elapsed, and Edward had often been out of bed during the night, when not likely to be intruded upon, and he now felt himself strongenough to be removed; and his object was to leave the intendant'shouse without his knowledge, so as to avoid an explanation. 

One evening Pablo came over with the horses after it was dark. Oswaldput them into the stable; and the morning proving fine and clear, alittle before break of day, Edward came softly down stairs withHumphrey, and, mounting the horses, set off for the cottage, withoutany one in the intendant's house being aware of their departure. 

It must not be supposed, however, that Edward took this step withoutsome degree of consideration as to the feelings of the intendant. Onthe contrary, he left a letter with Oswald, to be delivered after hisdeparture, in which he thanked the intendant sincerely for all thekindness and compassion he had shown toward him; assured him of hisgratitude and kind feelings toward him and his daughter, but said thatcircumstances had occurred, of which no explanation could be givenwithout great pain to all parties, which rendered it advisable that heshould take such an apparently unkind step as to leave without biddingthem farewell in person; that he was about to embark immediately forthe Continent, to seek his fortune in the wars; and that he wished allprosperity to the family, which would ever have his kindest wishes andremembrances. 

"Humphrey, " said Edward, after they had ridden about two miles acrossthe forest, and the sun had risen in an unclouded sky, "I feel like anemancipated slave. Thank God! my sickness has cured me of all mycomplaints, and all I want now is active employment. And now, Humphrey, Chaloner and Grenville are not a little tired of being muredup in the cottage, and I am as anxious as they are to be off. Whatwill you do? Will you join us, or will you remain at the cottage?"

"I have reflected upon it, Edward, and I have come to thedetermination of remaining at the cottage. You will find it expensiveenough to support one where you are going, and you must appear as aBeverley should do. We have plenty of money saved to equip you, andmaintain you well for a year or so, but after that you may requiremore. Leave me here. I can make money now that the farm is wellstocked; and I have no doubt that I shall be able to send over atrifle every year, to support the honor of the family. Besides, I donot wish to leave this for another reason. I want to know what isgoing on, and watch the motions of the intendant and the heiress ofArnwood. I also do not wish to leave the country until I know how mysisters get on with the Ladies Conynghame: it is my duty to watch overthem. I have made up my mind, so do not attempt to dissuade me. "

"I shall not, my dear Humphrey, as I think you have decided properly;but I beg you will not think of laying by money for me-a very littlewill suffice for my wants. "

"Not so, good brother; you must and shall, if I can help you, ruffleit with the best. You will be better received if you do; for, thoughpoverty is no sin, as the saying is, it is scouted as sin should be, while sins are winked at. You know that I require no money, and, therefore, you must and shall, if you Jove me, take it all. "

"As you will, my dear Humphrey. Now then, let us put our horses tospeed, for, if possible, we will, to-morrow morning, leave theforest. "

By this time all search for the fugitives from Worcester had long beenover, and there was no difficulty in obtaining the means ofembarkation. Early the next morning every thing was ready, and Edward, Humphrey, Chaloner, Grenville, and Pablo set off for Southampton, oneof the horses carrying the little baggage which they had with them. Edward, as we have before mentioned, with the money he had saved, andthe store at the cottage, which had been greatly increased, was wellsupplied with cash; and that evening they embarked, with their horses, in a small sailing vessel, and, with a favorable, light wind, arrivedat a small port of France on the following day. Humphrey and Pabloreturned to the cottage, we need hardly now say, very much out ofspirits at the separation. 

"Oh, Massa Humphrey, " said Pablo, as they rode along, "Missy Alice andMissy Edith go away-I wish go with them. Massa Edward go away--I wishgo with him. You stay at cottage--I wish stay with you. Pablo can notbe in three places. "

"No, Pablo; all you can do is to stay where you can be most useful. "

"Yes, I know that. You want me at cottage very much. Missy Alice andEdith and Massa Edward no want me, so I stay at cottage. "

"Yes, Pablo, we will stay at the cottage, but we can't do every thingnow. I think we must give up the dairy, now that my sisters are gone. I'll tell you what I have been thinking of, Pablo. We will make alarge inclosed place, to coax the ponies into during the winter, pickout as many as we think are good, and sell them at Lymington. Thatwill be better than churning butter. "

"Yes, I see; plenty of work for Pablo. "

"And plenty for me, too, Pablo; but you know when the inclosure isonce made it will last for a long while; and we will get the wildcattle into it if we can. "

"Yes, I see, " said Pablo. "I like that very much; only not liketrouble to build place. "

"We shan't have much trouble, Pablo; if we fell the trees inside thewood at each side, and let them lie one upon the other, the animalswill never break through them. "

"That very good idea--save trouble, " said Pablo. "And what you do withcows, suppose no make butter?"

"Keep them, and sell their calves; keep them to entice the wild cattleinto the pen. "

"Yes, that good. And turn out old Billy to 'tice ponies into pen, "continued Pablo, laughing. 

"Yes, we will try it. "

We must now return to the intendant's house. Oswald delivered theletter to the intendant, who read it with much astonishment. 

"Gone! is he actually gone?" said Mr. Heatherstone. 

"Yes, sir, before daylight this morning. "

"And why was I not informed of it?" said Mr. Heatherstone; "why haveyou been a party to this proceeding, being my servant?--may I inquirethat?"

"I knew Master Edward before I knew you, sir, " replied Oswald. 

"Then you had better follow him, " rejoined the intendant, in an angrytone. 

"Very well, sir, " replied Oswald, who quitted the room. 

"Good Heaven! how all my plans have been frustrated!" exclaimed theintendant, when he was alone. He then read the letter over morecarefully than he had done at first. "'Circumstances had occurred ofwhich no explanation could be given by him. ' I do not comprehend that--I must see Patience. "

Mr. Heatherstone opened the door, and called to his daughter. 

"Patience, " said Mr. Heatherstone, "Edward has left the house thismorning; here is a letter which he has written to me. Read it, and letme know if you can explain some portion of it, which to me isincomprehensible. Sit down and read it attentively. "

Patience, who was much agitated, gladly took the seat and perusedEdward's letter. When she had done so, she let it drop in her lap andcovered all her face, the tears trickling through her fingers. After atime, the intendant said, "Patience, has any thing passed between you and Edward Armitage?"

Patience made no reply, but sobbed aloud. She might not have shown somuch emotion, but it must be remembered that for the last three weekssince Edward had spoken to her, and during his subsequent illness, shehad been very unhappy. The reserve of Humphrey, the expressions he hadmade use of, his repulse of Clara, and her not having seen anything ofEdward during his illness, added to his sudden and unexpecteddeparture without a word to her, had broken her spirits, and she sankbeneath the load of sorrow. 

The intendant left her to recover herself before he again addressedher. When she had ceased sobbing, her father spoke to her in a verykind voice, begging her that she would not conceal any thing from him, as it was most important to him that the real facts should be known. 

"Now tell me, my child, what passed between Edward and you. "

"He told me, just before you came up to us that evening, that he lovedme. "

"And what was your reply?"

"I hardly know, my dear father, what it was that I said. I did notlike to be unkind to one who saved my life, and I did not choose tosay what I thought because--because--because he was of low birth; andhow could I give encouragement to the son of a forester without yourpermission?"

"Then you rejected him?"

"I suppose I did, or that he considered that I did so. He had a secretof importance that he would have confided to me had you notinterrupted us. "

"And now, Patience, I must request you to answer me one questioncandidly. I do not blame you for your conduct, which was correct underthe circumstances. I also had a secret which I perhaps ought to haveconfided; but I did consider that the confidence and paternal kindnesswith which I treated Edward would have been sufficient to point out toyou that I could not have been very averse to a union; indeed, thefreedom of communication which I allowed between you, must have toldyou so: but your sense of duty and propriety has made you act as youought to have done, I grant, although contrary to my real wishes. "

"Your wishes, my father?" said Patience. 

"Yes--my wishes; there is nothing that I so ardently desired as aunion between you and Edward; but I wished you to love him for his ownmerits. "

"I have done so, father, " replied Patience, sobbing again, "although Idid not tell him so. "

The intendant remained silent for some time, and then said, "There is no cause for further concealment, Patience; I have only toregret that I was not more explicit sooner. I have long suspected, andhave since been satisfied, that Edward Armitage is Edward Beverley, who with his brothers and sisters were supposed to have been burned todeath at Arnwood. "

Patience removed her handkerchief from her face, and looked at herfather with astonishment. 

"I tell you that I had a strong suspicion of it, my dear child, first, from the noble appearance, which no forest garb could disguise; butwhat gave me further conviction was, that when at Lymington I happenedto fall in with one Benjamin, who had been a servant at Arnwood, andinterrogated him closely. He really believed that the children wereburned; it is true that I asked him particularly relative to theappearance of the children--how many were boys, and how many weregirls, their ages, &c. --but the strongest proof was, that the names ofthe four children corresponded with the names of the Children of theForest, as well as their ages, and I went to the church register andextracted them. Now this was almost amounting to proof; for it was notlikely that four children in the forest cottage should have the sameages and names as those of Arnwood. After I had ascertained thispoint, I engaged Edward, as you know, wishing to secure him, for I wasonce acquainted with his father, and at all events well acquaintedwith the colonel's merits. You remained in the house together, and itwas with pleasure that I watched the intimacy between you; and then Iexerted myself to get Arnwood restored to him. I could not ask it forhim, but I prevented it being given to any other by laying claim to itmyself. Had Edward remained with us, all might have succeeded as Iwished; but he would join in the unfortunate insurrection. I knew itwas useless to prevent him, so I let him go. I found that he took thename of Beverley during the time he was with the king's army, and whenI was last in town I was told so by the commissioners, who wonderedwhere he had come from; but the effect was that it was now useless forme to request the estate for him, as I had wished to do--his havingserved in the royal army rendered it impossible. I therefore claimedit for myself, and succeeded. I had made up my mind that he wasattached to you, and you were equally so to him; and as soon as I hadthe grant sent down, which was on the evening he addressed you, I madeknown to him that the property was given to me; and I added, on somedry questions being put to me by him, relative to the possibility ofthere being still existing an heir to the estate, that there was nochance of that, and that you would be the mistress of Arnwood. I threwit out as a hint to him, fancying that, as far as you were concerned, all would go well, and that I would explain to him my knowledge of whohe was, after he had made known his regard for you. "

"Yes, I see it all now, " replied Patience; "in one hour he is rejectedby me, and in the next he is told that I have obtained possession ofhis property. No wonder that he is indignant, and looks upon us withscorn. And now he has left us; we have driven him into danger, and maynever see him again. Oh, father! I am very, very miserable!"

"We must hope for the best, Patience. It is true that he has gone tothe wars, but it does not therefore follow that he is to be killed. You are both very young--much too young to marry--and all may beexplained. I must see Humphrey and be candid with him. ". 

"But Alice and Edith--where are they gone, father?"

"That I can inform you. I have a letter from Langton on the subject, for I begged him to find out. He says that there are two young ladiesof the name of Beverley, who have been placed under the charge of hisfriends, the Ladies Conynghame, who is aunt to Major Chaloner, who hasbeen for some time concealed in the forest. But I have letters towrite, my dear Patience. To-morrow, if I live and do well, I will rideover to the cottage to see Humphrey Beverley. "

The intendant kissed his daughter, and she left the room. 

Poor Patience! she was glad to be left to herself, and think over thisstrange communication. For many days she had felt how fond she hadbeen of Edward, much more so than she had believed herself to be. "Andnow, " she thought, "if he really loves me, and hears my father'sexplanation, he will come back again. " By degrees she recovered herserenity, and employed herself in her quiet domestic duties. 

Mr. Heatherstone rode over to the cottage the next day, where he foundHumphrey busily employed as usual, and, what was very unusual, extremely grave. It was not a pleasant task for Mr. Heatherstone tohave to explain his conduct to so very young a man as Humphrey, but hefelt that he could not be comfortable until the evil impressionagainst him was removed, and he knew that Humphrey had a great deal ofsterling good sense. His reception was cool; but when the explanationwas made, Humphrey was more than satisfied, as it showed that theintendant had been their best friend, and that it was from a delicacyon the part of Patience, rather than from any other cause, that themisunderstanding had occurred. Humphrey inquired if he had permissionto communicate the substance of their conversation to his brother, andMr. Heatherstone stated that such was his wish and intention when heconfided it to Humphrey. It is hardly necessary to say that Humphreytook the earliest opportunity of writing to Edward at the directionwhich Chaloner had left with him. 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

But we must follow Edward for a time. On his arrival at Paris, he waskindly received by King Charles, who promised to assist his views injoining the army. 

"You have to choose between two generals, both great in the art ofwar--Conde and Turenne. I have no doubt that they will be opposed toeach other soon--that will be the better for you, as you will learntactics from such great players. "

"Which would your majesty recommend me to follow?" inquired Edward. 

"Conde is my favorite, and he will soon be opposed to this truculentand dishonest court, who have kept me here as an instrument toaccomplish their own wishes, but who have never intended to keep theirpromises, and place me on the English throne. I will give you lettersto Conde; and, recollect that whatever general you take service under, you will follow him without pretending to calculate how far hismovements may be right or wrong--that is not your affair. Conde isjust now released from Vincennes, but depend upon it he will be inarms very soon. "

As soon as he was furnished with the necessary credentials from theking, Edward presented himself at the levee of the Prince of Conde. 

"You are here highly spoken of, " said the prince, "for so young a man. So you were at the affair of Worcester? We will retain you, for yourservices will be wanted by-and-by. Can you procure any of yourcountrymen?"

"I know but of two. That I can recommend from personal knowledge; butthese two officers I can venture to pledge myself for. "

"Any more?"

"That I can not at present reply to your highness; but I should thinkit very possible. "

"Bring me the officers to-morrow at this hour, Monsieur Beverley--_au revoir_. "

The Prince of Conde then passed on to speak to other officers andgentlemen who were waiting to pay their respects. Edward went toChaloner and Grenville, who were delighted with the intelligence whichhe brought them. The next day they were at the prince's levee, andintroduced by Edward. 

"I am fortunate, gentlemen, " said the prince, "in securing theservices of such fine young men. You will oblige me by enlisting asmany of your countrymen as you may consider likely to do good service, and then follow me to Guienne, to which province I am now about todepart. Be pleased to put yourself into communication with the partiesnamed in this paper, and after my absence you will receive from themevery assistance and necessary supplies which may be required. "

A month after this interview, Conde, who had been joined by a greatnumber of nobles, and had been re-enforced by troops from Spain, setup the standard of revolt. Edward and his friends joined them, withabout three hundred English and Scotchmen, which they had enlisted, and very soon afterward Conde obtained the victory at Blenan, and inApril, 1652, advanced to Paris. Turenne, who had taken the command ofthe French army, followed him, and a severe action was fought in thestreets of the suburb of St. Antoine, in which neither party had theadvantage. But eventually Conde was beaten back by the superior forceof Turenne; and, not receiving the assistance he expected from theSpaniards, he fell back to the frontiers of Champagne. 

Previous to his departure from Paris, Edward had received Humphrey'sletter, explaining away the intendant's conduct; and the contentsremoved a heavy load from Edward's mind; but he now thought of nothingbut war, and although he cherished the idea of Patience Heatherstone, he was resolved to follow the fortunes of the prince as long as hecould. He wrote a letter to the intendant, thanking him for his kindfeelings and intentions toward him, and he trusted that he might oneday have the pleasure of seeing him again. He did not however think itadvisable to mention the name of his daughter, except in inquiringafter her health, and sending his respects. "It may be years before Isee her again, " thought Edward, "and who knows what may happen?"

The Prince of Conde now had the command of the Spanish forces in theNetherlands; and Edward, with his friends, followed his fortunes, andgained his good-will: they were rapidly promoted. 

Time flew on, and in the year 1654 the court of France concluded analliance with Cromwell, and expelled King Charles from the Frenchfrontiers. The war was still carried on in the Netherlands. Turennebore down Conde, who had gained every campaign; and the court ofSpain, wearied with reverses, made overtures of peace, which wasgladly accepted by the French. 

During these wars, Cromwell had been named Protector, and had shortlyafterward died. 

Edward, who but rarely heard from Humphrey, was now anxious to quitthe army and go to the king, who was in Spain; but to leave hiscolors, while things were adverse, was impossible. 

After the peace and the pardon of Conde by the French king, the armieswere disbanded, and the three adventurers were free. They took theirleave of the prince, who thanked them for their long and meritoriousservices; and they then hastened to King Charles, who had left Spainand come to the Low Countries. At the time of their joining the king, Richard, the son of Cromwell, who had been nominated Protector, hadresigned, and every thing was ready for the Restoration. 

On the 15th of May, 1660, the news arrived that Charles had beenproclaimed king on the 8th, and a large body of gentlemen went toinvite him over. The king sailed from Scheveling, was met at Dover byGeneral Monk, and conducted to London, which he entered amid theacclamations of the people, on the 29th of the same month. 

We may leave the reader to suppose that Edward, Chaloner, andGrenville were among the most favored of those in his train. As theprocession moved slowly along the Strand, through a countlessmultitude, the windows of all the houses were filled with well-dressedladies, who waved their white kerchiefs to the king and his attendantsuit. Chaloner, Edward, and Grenville, who rode side by side asgentlemen in waiting, were certainly the most distinguished among theking's retinue. 

"Look, Edward, " said Chaloner, "at those lovely girls at yon window. Do you recognize them?"

"Indeed I do not. Are they any of our Paris beauties?"

"Why, thou insensible and unnatural animal! they are thy sisters, Alice and Edith; and do you not recognize behind them my good auntsConynghame?"

"It is so, I believe, " replied Edward. "Yes, now that Edith smiles, I'm sure it is them. "

"Yes, " replied Grenville, "there can be no doubt of that; but willthey, think you, recognize us?"

"We shall see, " replied Edward, as they now approached within a fewyards of the window; for while they had been speaking the processionhad stopped. 

"Is it possible, " thought Edward, "that these can be the two girls inrusset gowns, that I left at the cottage? And yet it must be. Well, Chaloner, to all appearance, your good aunts have done justice totheir charge. "

"Nature has done more, Edward. I never thought that they would havegrown into such lovely girls as they have, although I always thoughtthat they were handsome. "

As they passed, Edward caught the eye of Edith, and smiled. 

"Alice, that's Edward!" said Edith, so loud, as to be heard by theking, and all near him. 

Alice and Edith rose and waved their handkerchiefs, but they were soonobliged to cease, and put them to their eyes. 

"Are those your sisters, Edward?" said the king. 

"They are, your majesty. "

The king rose in his stirrups, and made a low obeisance to the windowwhere they were standing. 

"We shall have some court beauties, Beverley, " said the king, lookingat him over his shoulder. 

As soon as the ceremonies were over, and they could escape from theirpersonal attentions, Edward and his two friends went to the house inwhich resided the Ladies Conynghame and his sisters. 

We pass over the joy of this meeting after so many years' absence, andthe pleasure which it gave to Edward to find his sisters grown suchaccomplished and elegant young women. That his two friends, who were, as the reader will recollect, old acquaintances of Alice and Edith, were warmly received, we hardly need say. 

"Now, Edward, who do you think was here to-day--the reigning belle, and the toast of all the gentlemen?"

"Indeed! I must be careful of my heart. Dear Edith, who is she?"

"No less than one with whom you were formerly well acquainted, Edward--Patience Heatherstone. "

"Patience Heatherstone, " cried Edward, "the toast of all London!"

"Yes; and deservedly so, I can assure you; but she is as good as sheis handsome, and, moreover, treats all the gay gallants with perfectindifference. She is staying with her uncle, Sir Ashley Cooper; andher father is also in town, for he called here with her to-day. "

"When did you hear from Humphrey, Edith?"

"A few days back. He has left the cottage now, altogether. "

"Indeed? Where does he reside then?"

"At Arnwood. The house has been rebuilt, and I understand is a veryprincely mansion. Humphrey has charge of it until it is ascertained towhom it is to belong. "

"It belongs to Mr. Heatherstone, does it not?" replied Edward. 

"How can you say so, Edward! You received Humphrey's letters a longwhile ago. "

"Yes, I did; but let us not talk about it any more, my dear Edith. Iam in great perplexity. "

"Nay, dear brother, let us talk about it, " said Alice, who had come upand overheard the latter portion of the conversation. "What is yourperplexity?"

"Well, " replied Edward, "since it is to be so, let us sit down andtalk over the matter. I acknowledge the kindness of Mr. Heatherstone, and feel that all he asserted to Humphrey is true: still I do not likethat I should be indebted to him for a property which is mine, andthat he has no right to give. I acknowledge his generosity, but I donot acknowledge his right of possession. Nay, much as I admire, and Imay say, fond as I am (for time has not effaced the feeling) of hisdaughter, it still appears to me that, although not said, it isexpected that she is to be included in the transfer; and I will acceptno wife on such conditions. "

"That is to say, because all you wish for, your property and a womanyou love, are offered you in one lot, you will not accept them; theymust be divided, and handed over to you in two!" said Alice, smiling. 

"You mistake, dearest; I am not so foolish; but I have a certainpride, which you can not blame. Accepting the property from Mr. Heatherstone is receiving a favor were it given as a marriage portionwith his daughter. Now, why should I accept as a favor what I canclaim as a right! It is my intention of appealing to the king anddemanding the restoration of my property. He can not refuse it. "

"Put not your trust in princes, brother, " replied Alice. "I doubt ifthe king, or his council, will consider it advisable to make so manydiscontented as to restore property which has been so long held byothers, and by so doing create a host of enemies. Recollect also thatMr. Heatherstone, and his brother-in-law, Sir Ashley Cooper, have donethe king much more service than you ever have or can do. They havebeen most important agents in his restoration, and the king'sobligations to them are much greater than they are to you. Besides, merely for what may be called a point of honor, for it is no more, inwhat an unpleasant situation will you put his majesty! At all events, Edward, recollect you do not know what are the intentions of Mr. Heatherstone; wait and see what he proffers first. "

"But, my dear sister, it appears to me that his intentions areevident. Why has he rebuilt Arnwood I He is not going to surrender myproperty and make me a present of the house. "

"The reason for rebuilding the mansion was good. You were at the wars;it was possible that you might, or might not return. He said this toHumphrey, who has all along been acting as his factotum in thebusiness; and recollect, at the time that Mr. Heatherstone commencedthe rebuilding of the mansion, what prospect was there of therestoration of the king, or of your ever being in a position to applyfor the restoration of your property! I believe, however, thatHumphrey knows more of Mr. Heatherstone's intentions than he has madeknown to us; and I therefore say again, my dear Edward, make noapplication till you ascertain what Mr. Heatherstone's intentions maybe. "

"Your advice is good, my dear Alice, and I will be guided by it, "replied Edward. 

"And now let me give you some advice for your friends, MastersChaloner and Grenville. That much of their property has been takenaway and put into other hands, I know; and probably they expect itwill be restored upon their application to the king. Those who holdthe property think so too, and so far it is fortunate. Now, from wiserheads than mine, I have been told that these applications will not beacceded to, HM is supposed; but, at the same time, if they were tomeet the parties, and close with them at once, before the king'sintentions are known, they would recover their property at a third ora quarter of the value. Now is their time: even a few days' delay maymake a difference. They can easily obtain a delay for the payment ofthe moneys. Impress that upon them, my dear Edward, and let them, ifpossible, be off to their estates to-morrow and make thearrangements. "

"That is advice which must be followed, " replied Edward. "We must gonow, and I will not fail to communicate it to them this very night. "

We may as well here inform the reader that the advice was immediatelyacted upon, and that Chaloner and Grenville recovered all theirestates at about five years' purchase. 

Edward remained at court several days. He had written to Humphrey, andhad dispatched a messenger with the letter; but the messenger had notyet returned. The court was now one continual scene of fetes andgayety. On the following day a drawing-room was to be held, andEdward's sisters were to be presented. Edward was standing, with manyothers of the suit, behind the chair of the king, amusing himself withthe presentations as they took place, and waiting for the arrival ofhis sisters--Chaloner and Grenville were not with him, they hadobtained leave to go into the country, for the object we have beforereferred to--when his eyes caught, advancing toward the king, Mr. Heatherstone, who led his daughter, Patience. That they had notperceived him was evident; indeed her eyes were not raised once, fromthe natural timidity felt by a young woman in the presence of royalty. Edward half concealed himself behind one of his companions that hemight gaze upon her without reserve. She was indeed a lovely youngperson, but little altered, except having grown taller and morerounded and perfect in her figure; and her court-dress displayedproportions which her humble costume at the New Forest had concealed, or which time had not matured. There was the same pensive, sweetexpression in her face, which had altered little; but the beautifulrounded arms, the symmetrical fall of the shoulders, and theproportion of the whole figure was a surprise to him; and Edward, inhis own mind, agreed that she might well be the reigning toast of theday. 

Mr. Heatherstone advanced and made his obeisance, and then hisdaughter was led forward, and introduced by a lady unknown to Edward. After he had saluted her, the king said, loud enough for Edward tohear, "My obligations to your father are great. I trust that the daughterwill often grace our court. "

Patience made no reply, but passed on; and, soon afterward, Edwardlost sight of her in the crowd. 

If there ever had been any check to Edward's feelings toward Patience--and time and absence have their effect upon the most ardent oflovers--the sight of her so resplendent in beauty acted upon him likemagic; and he was uneasy till the ceremony was over and he was enabledto go to his sisters. 

When he entered the room, he found himself in the arms of Humphrey, who had arrived with the messenger. After the greetings were over, Edward said, "Alice and I have seen Patience, and I fear I must surrender atdiscretion. Mr. Heatherstone may make his own terms; I must wave allpride rather than lose her. I thought that I had more control overmyself; but I have seen her, and feel that my future happiness dependsupon obtaining her as a wife. Let her father but give me her, andArnwood will be but a trifle in addition!"

"With respect to the conditions upon which you are to possessArnwood, " said Humphrey, "I can inform you what they are. They arewholly unshackled, further than that you are to repay by installmentsthe money expended in the building of the house. This I am empoweredto state to you, and I think you will allow that Mr. Heatherstone hasfully acted up to what he stated were his views when he first obtaineda grant of the property. "

"He has, indeed, " replied Edward. 

"As for his daughter, Edward, you have yet to 'win her and wear her, 'as the saying is. Her father will resign the property to you as yoursby right, but you have no property in his daughter, and I suspect thatshe will not be quite so easily handed over to you. "

"But why should you say so, Humphrey? Have we not been attached fromour youth?"

"Yes, it was a youthful passion, I grant; but recollect nothing cameof it, and years have passed away. It is now seven years since youquitted the forest, and in your letters to Mr. Heatherstone you madeno remark upon what had passed between you and Patience. Since that, you have never corresponded or sent any messages; and you can hardlyexpect that a girl, from the age of seventeen to twenty-four, willcherish the image of one, who, to say the least, had treated her withindifference. That is my view of the matter, Edward. It may be wrong. "

"And it may be true, " replied Edward, mournfully. 

"Well, my view is different, " replied Edith. "You know, Humphrey, howmany offers Patience Heatherstone has had, and has every day, I maysay. Why has she refused them all I In my opinion, because she hasbeen constant to a proud brother of mine, who does not deserve her!"

"It may be so, Edith, " replied Humphrey. "Women are riddles--I onlyargued upon the common sense of the thing. "

"Much you know about women, " replied Edith. "To be sure, you do notmeet many in the New Forest, where you have lived all your life. "

"Very true, my dear sister; perhaps that is the reason that the NewForest has had such charms for me. "

"After that speech, sir, the sooner you get back again the better!"retorted Edith. But Edward made a sign to Humphrey, and they beat aretreat. 

"Have you seen the intendant, Humphrey?"

"No; I was about to call upon him, but I wanted to see you first. "

"I will go with you. I have not done him justice, " replied Edward;"and yet I hardly know how to explain to him. "

"Say nothing, but meet him cordially; that will be explanationsufficient. "

"I shall meet him as one whom I shall always revere and feel that Iowe a deep debt of gratitude. What must he think of my not havingcalled upon him!"

"Nothing. You hold a place at court. You may not have known that hewas in London, as you have never met him; your coming with me willmake it appear so. Tell him that I have just made known to you hisnoble and disinterested conduct. "

"You are right--I will. I fear, however, Humphrey, that you are rightand Edith wrong as regards his daughter. "

"Nay, Edward, recollect that I have, as Edith observed, passed my lifein the woods. "

Edward was most kindly received by Mr. Heatherstone. Edward, on Mr. Heatherstone repeating to him his intentions relative to Arnwood, expressed his sense of that gentleman's conduct, simply adding--

"You may think me impetuous, sir, but I trust you will believe megrateful. "

Patience colored up and trembled when Edward first saw her. Edward didnot refer to the past for some time after they had renewed theiracquaintance. He wooed her again, and won her. Then all was explained. 

About a year after the Restoration, there was a fete at Hampton Court, given in honor of three marriages taking place--Edward Beverley toPatience Heatherstone, Chaloner to Alice, and Grenville to Edith; and, as his majesty himself said, as he gave away the brides, "Couldloyalty be better rewarded?"

But our young readers will not be content if they do not hear someparticulars about the other personages who have appeared in our littlehistory. Humphrey must take the first place. His love of farmingcontinued. Edward gave him a large farm, rent free; and in a few yearsHumphrey saved up sufficient to purchase a property for himself. Hethen married Clara Ratcliffe, who has not appeared lately on thescene, owing to her having been, about two years before theRestoration, claimed by an elderly relation, who lived in the country, and whose infirm state of health did not permit him to quit the house. He left his property to Clara, about a year after her marriage toHumphrey. The cottage in the New Forest was held by, and eventuallymade over to, Pablo, who became a very steady character, and in thecourse of time married a young girl from Arnwood, and had a housefulof young gipsies. Oswald, so soon as Edward came down to Arnwood, gaveup his place in the New Forest, and lived entirely with Edward as hissteward; and Phoebe also went to Arnwood, and lived to a good old age, in the capacity of housekeeper, her temper becoming rather worse thanbetter as she advanced in years. 

This is all that we have been able to collect relative to the severalparties; and so now we must say farewell. 

THE END.