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

“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 extended his hand, “as I have just seen the intendant, and he has been asking many questions about you. I am certain he thinks that you are not the grandson 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 to it, as he wished to speak to you, and said that he felt great interest about you.”

“And what did you say?”

“I said that your cottage was a good day’s journey from here, and I was not certain that I knew the exact way, as I had been there but seldom, but that I knew where to find it after I saw the forests of Arnwood; I told him about Corbould and his attempt upon you, and he was very wroth. I never saw him moved before; and young Mistress Patience, she was indeed angry and perplexed, and begged her father to send the assailant away as soon as he could be moved. Master Heatherstone replied, ‘Leave it to me, my dear;’ and then asked me what account Corbould gave of himself, and his falling into the pit. I told him that Corbould stated that he was following a deer, which he had severely wounded about noonday, and having no dog with him he could not overtake it, although he knew by its bleeding track that it could 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 a deer 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 have known that he had fallen into the pit, and he would have remained there till now. I quite forgot to say, that when the intendant said that he wished to call at your cottage, the young mistress said that she wished to go with him, as you had told her that you had two sisters living with you, and she wished very much to see them and make their 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 his charge. We must see to it. I only should like, if possible, to have notice 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 finds us in a pickle, it is of no consequence.”

“Rather the better, sir,” replied Oswald. “Let your sisters be at the wash-tub, and you and your brother carting manure; he will then be more likely to have no suspicion of your being otherwise than what you assume to be.”

“Have you heard any news from London, Oswald?”

“Not as yet. I was away yesterday evening, when Master Heatherstone came back, and I have not seen his man this morning. While you eat your 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 the intendant.”

“Mum’s the word, sir; but you must stay in the cottage, or others will see 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 Partridge had left the cottage, as agreed.

“What do you say, Pablo? do you think you can walk back tonight?”

“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, eat heartily, and then we shall not be so tired. I want to get home, that I may send Humphrey after the calf.”

“One bed here; you stay,” replied Pablo. “I go home, and tell Master Humphrey.”

“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. Now drink some beer. I think, Pablo, you shall go home, and tell Humphrey that I and Smoker will be where the heifer lies dead, and have it skinned by nine o’clock tomorrow morning; so, if he comes, he will find 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 before supper. As I go along, look at calf and dead cow—see if calf stay with 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 he had killed the heifer, and wanted to obtain the calf.

“I’ve an idea that you will find that boy very useful, if he is properly managed.”

“I think so too,” replied Edward; “and I am glad to perceive that he is 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 Duke Hamilton, 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 have murdered their king. Is that all?”

“No. King Charles the Second has been proclaimed in Scotland, and invited 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 his master’s journey to London was to oppose the execution of the three lords; 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 news has put me in a fever,” continued Edward, taking up the biggin and drinking a large draught of beer.

“I thought it would,” replied Oswald; “but until the time comes, the more quiet you keep the better.”

“Yes, Oswald; but I can’t talk any more; I must be left alone to think. I will go to bed, as I shall be off early in the morning. Is that fellow, Corbould, getting well?”

“Yes, sir; he is out of bed, and walks a little with a stick; but he is still very lame, and will be for some time.”

“Good-night, Oswald; if I have any thing to say, I will write and send the 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 to the right, as he will not be friendly with the other dogs.”

Edward retired to bed, but not to sleep. The Scots had proclaimed the king, and invited him over. “He will surely come,” thought Edward, “and he will have an army round him as soon as he lands.” Edward made up his resolution to join the army, as soon as he should hear that the king had landed; and what with considering how he should be able so to do, and afterward building castles as to what he would do, it was long before he fell asleep; and when he did he dreamed of battles and victory—he was charging at the head of his troops—he was surrounded by the dying and the dead. He was wounded, and he was somehow or other well again, as if by magic; and then the scene was changed, and he was rescuing Patience Heatherstone from his own lawless men, and preserving the life of her father, which was about to be sacrificed; and at last he awoke, and found that the daylight peeped through the windows, and that he had slept longer than he intended to do. He arose and dressed himself quickly, and, not waiting for breakfast, went to the kennel, released Smoker from his durance, and set off on his return.

Before nine o’clock, he had arrived at the spot where the heifer lay dead. He found the calf still by its side, bleating and walking round uneasily. As he approached with the dog, it went to a farther distance, and there remained. Edward took out his knife and commenced skinning the heifer, and then took out the inside. The animal was quite fresh and good, but not very fat, as may be supposed. While thus occupied, Smoker growled and then sprung forward, bounding away in the direction of the cottage, and Edward thought Humphrey was at hand. In a few minutes, the pony and cart appeared between the trees, with Humphrey and Pablo in it, and Smoker leaping up at his friend Billy.

“Good-morning, Humphrey,” said Edward: “I am almost ready for you; but the question is, how are we to take the calf? It is as wild as a deer.”

“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 Humphrey had brought with them, and made a noose at one end; he coiled the rope in his hand, and then threw it out to its full length, by way of trial. “This way I take him, suppose I get near enough. This way take bulls in Spain; call him Lasso. Now come with me.” Pablo had his rope again coiled in his hand, and then went round to the other side of the calf, 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 not perceive Pablo, came sufficiently near to him, Pablo threw his rope, and caught the loop round the animal’s neck. The calf set off galloping toward Humphrey, and dragging Pablo after him, for the latter was not strong enough to hold it.

Humphrey went to his assistance, and then Edward; and the calf was thrown down by Smoker, who seized it by the neck, and it was tied and put on the cart in a few minutes.

“Well done, Pablo! you are a clever fellow,” said Edward, “and this calf shall be yours.”

“It is a cow calf,” said Humphrey, “which I am glad of. Pablo, you did that 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 which Alice had asked for the dogs, and they set off on