The Children of the New Forest - Frederick Marryat (book recommendations based on other books TXT) 📗

“Majesty becomes naught, I suppose,” replied Oswald; “but still it is as I say. Two days after you left, the intendant hastened up to London, and, from what I have understood, he was strongly opposed to the 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 the cottage for an hour, as his daughter was left alone; and as I promised, I could not come to you; but, nevertheless, Patience received 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 so astounded me that I can listen to nothing else till I have had a little while to commune with myself and subdue my feelings.”

Edward was indeed in a state of mind which required calming down. He quitted 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 arm raised. How much gallant blood has been shed in vain! Spirit of my fathers, didst thou leave none of thy mettle and thy honour behind thee; or has all England become craven? Well, the time will come, and if I can no longer hope to fight for my king, at all events I can fight against those who have murdered him.”

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

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

“Yes, or I should not have been here,” replied Oswald. “He came back yesterday, looking most disconsolate and grave, and I hear that he returns to London in a few days. Indeed, he told me so himself, for I requested permission to come over to see your grandfather. He said that I might go, but must return soon, as he must go back to London. I believe, 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 of government, never had an idea that things should have turned out as they have done. I have a message from him to you, which is, that he begs you will come to see him, that he may thank you for the preservation of his child.”

“I will take his thanks from you, Oswald: that will do as well as if he gave them me in person.”

“Yes, perhaps so; but I have another message from another party, which is—the young lady herself. She desires me to tell you that she will never be happy till she has seen you, and thanked you for your courage and kindness; and that you have no right to put her under such an obligation, and not give her an opportunity of expressing what she feels. Now, Mr. Edward, I am certain that she is earnest in what she says, and she made me promise that I would persuade you to come. I could not refuse her, for she is a dear little creature; as her father will go to London in a few days, you may ride over and see her without any 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 will not be there, I perhaps may come. But now I must talk to you about other matters.”

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

Oswald answered all his questions, and Edward took down notes and directions 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’s cottage as soon as he could. “Should the intendant come back before he is expected I will come over and let you know; but I think, from what I 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, and Oswald set out on his journey.

“Humphrey,” said Edward, as soon as Oswald was gone, “I have made up my mind to go to Lymington tomorrow We must have some flour, and many other 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 things and many people, and I had rather go by myself; besides, I can not allow my sisters to be left alone. I do not consider there is any danger, I admit; but should any thing happen to them, I should never forgive myself. Still, it is necessary that you should go to Lymington with me some time or another, that you may know where to purchase and sell, if required. What I propose is, that I will ask Oswald to come and stay here a couple of days. We will then leave him in charge of our 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 is of no consequence whether I return now or tomorrow. It is now early, and as you intend going to Lymington, it occurred to me that I had better go with you. I can then show you all you want, which will be much 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 to Alice.”

Humphrey went immediately to put the pony in the cart, when Edward said,

“Oswald, you must not call me Mr. Edward, even when we are alone: if you 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 be better, for a slip of the tongue before other people might create suspicion.”

The pony and cart were soon at the door, and Edward having received further instructions from Alice, set off for Lymington, accompanied by Oswald.

CHAPTER XI.

“Would you have found your way to Lymington?” said Oswald, as the pony trotted along.

“Yes; I think so,” replied Edward; “but I must have first gone to Arnwood. Indeed, had I been alone I should have done so; but we have made a much shorter cut.”

“I did not think that you would have liked to have seen the ruins of Arnwood,” replied Oswald.

“Not a day passes without my thinking of them,” replied Edward. “I should like to see them. I should like to see if any one has taken possession 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 it for 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 thee to know me?”

“Well, my introduction of you will save some surmises, probably; and I shall 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 an hour’s drive.”

As soon as they arrived at Lymington, Oswald directed the way to a small hostelry to which the keepers and verderers usually resorted. In fact, the landlord was the party who took all the venison off their hands, and disposed of it. They drove into the yard, and, giving the pony and cart in charge of the hostler, went into the inn, where they found 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, and putting out his stomach, as he peered at Oswald. “Why, Oswald Partridge, 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 and changes.”

“Yes, you have a sort of Parliamentary keeper, I’m told; and who is this with you?”

“The grandson of an old friend of yours, now dead, poor old Jacob Armitage.”

“Jacob dead, poor fellow! As true as flint was Jacob Armitage, as I’m a 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 for forest 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 Parliamentary foresters, then, I presume?” continued the landlord, turning to Edward.

“No,” replied Edward, “I kill no venison for Roundheads.”

“Right, my sapling; right and well said. The Armitages were all good men and true, and followed the fortunes of the Beverleys; but there are no Beverleys to follow now. Cut off—root and branch—more’s the pity. That was a sad business. But come in; we must not talk here, for walls have ears, they say, and one never knows who one dares to speak before now.”

Oswald and Edward then entered with the landlord, and arrangements were made between Master Andrew and the latter for a regular supply of venison during the season, at a certain price; but as it would now be dangerous to bring it into the town, it was agreed that when there was any ready, Edward should come to Lymington and give notice, and the landlord would send out people to bring it in during the night. This bargain concluded, they took a glass with the landlord, and then went into the town to make the necessary purchases. Oswald took Edward to all the shops where the articles he required were to be purchased; some they carried away with them; others, which were too heavy, they left, to be called for with the cart as they went away. Among other articles, Edward required powder and lead, and they went to a gunsmith’s where it was to be procured. While making his purchases, Edward perceived a sword, which he thought he had seen before, hanging up against the wall among other weapons.

“What sword is that?” said he, to the man who was measuring out the powder.

“It’s not my sword, exactly,” replied the man; “and yet I can not return it to its owner or to the family. It was brought me to be cleaned by one of Colonel Beverley’s people, and before it was called for the house was burned, and every