The Children of the New Forest

by Frederick Marryat

  CHAPTER XII.

  "A narrow escape, Humphrey!" said Edward as he held his brother's hand.

  "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 that therewas no external wound; but on Edward pressing his side, the animal gavea 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 of hisribs broken. Humphrey, see if you can get him a little water, that willrecover him more than any thing else; the bull has knocked the breathout of his body. I think he will soon be well again, poor fellow."

  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 to Lymingtonat 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 on hislegs again. As soon as they had finished and quartered the beasts, thecart was loaded and they returned home; they had to return a secondtime, and both the pony and they were very tired before they sat downto supper They found the gipsy boy very much recovered and in goodspirits. Alice said that he had been amusing Edith and her by tossingup three potatoes at a time, and playing them like balls; and that hehas spun a platter upon an iron skewer and balanced it on his chin.They gave him some supper, which he ate in the chimney corner, lookingup and staring every now and then at Edith, to whom he appeared verymuch 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 all theshops 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 the dayafter that the three skins were carried to the town and disposed of.

  "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; "and now,Humphrey, I think it is time that I keep my promise to Oswald, and goover to the intendant's house, and pay my visit to the young lady, as Ipresume she is--and certainly she has every appearance of being one. Iwant 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, if Ihave; and therefore I shall not commence till after I have seen her."

  "When will you set off?"

  "To-morrow morning; and I shall take my gun, although Oswald desired menot; but after the fight we had with the wild cattle the other day, Idon't think it prudent to be unarmed; indeed, I do not feel comfortablewithout 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. He appearswell enough, and he has played quite long enough, so I shall take himwith me to the garden to-morrow, and set him to work. What a quantityof fruit there is a promise of in the orchard this year! And Edward, ifthis boy turns out of any use, and is a help to me, I think that Ishall take all the orchard into garden, and then inclose another pieceof ground, and see if we can not grow some corn for ourselves. It isthe greatest expense that we have at present, and I should like to takemy 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, beforethe people from the other side of the forest come and find us out, orthey 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 trusted ornot."

  "Better not let him know it under any circumstances," replied Humphrey;"he may continue honest, if not tempted by the knowledge that there isany thing worth stealing."

  "You are right, Humphrey. Well, I will be off to-morrow morning and getthis visit over. I hope to be able to get all the news from her, nowthat 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 out boardsand build any thing we want. The first time I go to Lymington I willbuy a saw--I can afford it now; and I'll make a carpenter's bench forthe first thing, and then, with some more tools, I shall get on; andthen, 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 have torise early. I know you have so many projects in your mind that it wouldtake 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 a hundred;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 they wereso employed, Pablo came out and listened to what was said. When prayerswere over, Humphrey asked Pablo if he knew what they had been doing.

  "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 the sty,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 a houseand 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 he hadtaught to keep to heel. He felt happy, as people do who have no cares,from the fine weather--the deep green of the verdure checkered by theflowers in bloom, and the majestic scenery which met his eye on everyside. His heart was as buoyant as his steps, as he walked along, thelight summer breeze fanning his face. His thoughts, however, which hadbeen more of the chase than any thing else, suddenly changed, and hebecame 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 army againsthis oppressors; he fancied himself at the head of a troop of cavalry,charging the Parliamentary horse. Victory was on his side. The king wasagain on his throne, and he was again in possession of the familyestate. He was rebuilding the hall, and somehow or another it appearedto him that Patience was standing by his side, as he gave directions tothe artificers, when his revery was suddenly disturbed by Holdfastbarking 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, walkingup to him and cocking the gun which he held in hand as he advanced.

  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 not anylonger permitted to range this forest."

  "I am no deer-stealer," replied Edward. "It will be quite sufficient togive me that title when you find me with venison in my possession; andas for going with you, that I certainly shall not. Sheer off, or youmay 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 twice beforeyou act once. Let me proceed in peace, or you may lose your place, ifyou do not, by your own rashness, lose your life."

  There was something so cool and so determined in Edward's quiet manner,that the verderer hesitated. He perceived that any attempt to takeEdward 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 inself-defense; but admitting that he 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 found thatbullying would not succeed, he thought it advisable to change his tone,and therefore said, "You tell me that you are going to the intendant'shouse; you have business there, I presume? If I took you prisoner, itis there I should have conducted you, so, young man, you may now walkon 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, and theverderer 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, she isat 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," repliedEdward; "but as it is no concern of yours, I shall leave you to find itout."

  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, asI told you. Do you choose to enter it with me, or will you go to OswaldPartridge and tell him that you have met with Edward Armitage in theforest, and that I should be glad to see him? I believe you are underhis 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't knowhow unhappy I have been at not being able to give you my poor thanksfor 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 can nottreat as an inferior one to whom I owe such a debt of gratitude."

  Edward smiled as he took his seat.

  "My father is as gr
ateful 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 I mightfind out. Oh, sir, do, pray, let me know how we can show our gratitudeby 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 as abrother--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 should nothave hesitated to have used. Do you imagine that I am ashamed of mycalling?"

  "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 every chanceof sinking down to the lower grade of a deer-stealer and poacher;indeed, had it not been that I had my gun with me, I should have beenseized as such this very day as I came over."

  "But you were not shooting the deer, were you, sir?" inquired Patience.

  "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 of muchhigher employment than any that could be offered here, and only wishedto know what you would accept. He has interest--greatinterest--although just now at variance with the rulers of thiscountry, on account 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, and Ihonor 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 the room.

  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 was required.When the meal was over, Phoebe removed the tray, and then Edward roseto take his leave.

  "Nay, do not go yet--I have much to say first; let me again ask you howwe can serve you."

  "I never can take any office under the present rulers of the nation, sothat question is at rest."

  "I was afraid that you would answer so," replied Patience, gravely: "donot think I blame you; for many are there already who would gladlyretrace their steps if it were possible. They little thought, when theyopposed the king, that affairs would have ended as they have done.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 to feeluneasy 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, although helooks so stern and melancholy; but he has seldom smiled since my poormother's death."

  "As to your father, Mistress Patience, I will think as well as I can ofone who is joined to a party which I hold in detestation; I can say nomore."

  "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, because theywished him out of the way; and he accepted it because he was opposed towhat was going on, and wished himself to be away. At least I infer somuch from what I have learned. It is not an office of power or trustwhich 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 for yourkindness 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
.