The Children of the New Forest by Frederick Marryat (best english novels for beginners txt) 📖

they have every prospect of falling into the hands of a greater tyrant than before; for, depend upon it, Cromwell will assume the sovereign power, and rule this kingdom with a rod of iron.”

“Well, many more are, I have no doubt, or soon will be, of his opinion; and the time will come, be it sooner or later, when the king will have his own again. They have proclaimed him in Scotland already. Why does he not come over and show himself? His presence would, I think, 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 and come when we please. I almost wish you could be persuaded to accept any eligible offer he may make you. Many, no doubt, are in office, and serving the present government, who have the same feelings as the intendant, or even feelings as strong as your own.”

“I can not bear the idea of accepting any thing from them or their instruments, Humphrey; nor, indeed, could I leave my sisters.”

“On that score you may make your mind easy: Pablo and I are quite sufficient for the farm, or any thing else we may want to do. If you can be more useful elsewhere, have no scruple in leaving us. If the king was to come and raise an army, you would leave us, of course; and I see no reason why, if an eligible offer is made you, you should not do it now. You and your talents are thrown away in this forest; and you might serve the king and the king’s cause better by going into the world and watching the times than you ever can by killing his venison.”

“Certainly,” replied Edward, laughing, “I do not much help his cause by 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 my feelings and my honor, I shall not decline it, provided that I may, by accepting 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 which Humphrey had put all the papers he had collected together. Edward opened the iron chest, and found in it a considerable quantity of gold in bags, and many trinkets and jewels which he did not know the value of. The papers he did not open, but resolved that they should be given to the intendant, for Edward felt that he could trust in him. The other boxes and trunks were also opened and examined, and many other articles 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. I am 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 to Lymington she was very nearly taken by a party of gipsies? and by what Pablo can make out, it would appear that it was by the party to which he 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 could trust no other person, so he put her in boys’ clothes that there might be less risk. Still, she must have been very intelligent to have done the 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 to do what they are doing now? It’s an old saying, ‘We never know what we can do till we try.’ By-the-by Humphrey, I met a famous herd of forest ponies the other day, and I said to myself, ‘I wonder whether Humphrey will 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 to help him—and I have the means of maintaining two more ponies if I could 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 to it—well. I won’t be dared to any thing, and I most certainly will try to catch a pony or two; but I must think about it first, and when I have 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. They are as wild as deer and as fleet as the wind, and you can not catch them in a pitfall.”

“I know that, good brother; but all I can say is, that I will try what I can do, and I can do no more—but not at present, for I am too busy.”

Three days after this conversation, Oswald Partridge made his appearance, having been sent by the intendant to tell Edward that he should 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 always rode one when I lived in Dorsetshire.”

“This won’t jump about, my little lady,” said Oswald, “for he is thirty years old, I believe, and as steady as an old gentleman ought to be.”

“I have had some conversation with Master Heatherstone,” continued Oswald to Edward. “He is much pleased with you, I can tell you. He said that in times like these he required young men like you about him; and that, as you would not take the berth of verderer, he must find one better suited for you; for he said you were too good for such an office.”

“Many thanks to him for his good opinion,” replied Edward; “but I do not think that he has any office in his gift which I can accept.”

“So I thought, but I said nothing. He again asked many questions relative to old Jacob Armitage, and he pressed me very hard. He said that Humphrey was as much above his position in appearance as you were, but as he was brought up at Arnwood, he presumed that he had had the same advantages. And then he said—‘But were his two sisters brought up at Arnwood also?’ I replied, that I believed not, although they were often there, and were allowed to play with the children of the house. He looked at me steadfastly, as if he would read my thoughts, and then went on writing. I can not help thinking that he has a suspicion that you are not the grandchildren of old Jacob; but at the same time I do not think that he has an idea who you really are.”

“You must keep our secret, Oswald,” replied Edward. “I have a very good opinion of the intendant, I acknowledge; but I will trust nobody.”

“As I hope for future mercy, sir, I never will divulge it until you bid me,” replied Oswald.

“I trust to you, Oswald, and so there’s an end of the matter. But tell me, Oswald, what do they say about his taking charge of this little girl?”

“Why, they did begin to talk about it; but when he gave out that it was the order of Parliament that the child should remain with him until further directions, of course they said nothing, for they dared not. It seems that the Ratcliffe property is sequestrated, but not yet granted to any one; and the Parliament will most likely, as soon as she is old enough, give her as a wife, with the property, to one of their party; they have done it before now, as it secures the property under all changes.”

“I perceive,” replied Edward. “When did you hear that the little girl was to live with him?”

“Not till yesterday morning; and it was not till the evening that we knew it was the order of Parliament.”

Edward did not think it right to tell Oswald what he knew, as it was a secret confided to him by the intendant, and therefore merely observed—“I presumed that the child would not be permitted to remain on our hands;” and then the conversation dropped.

As Oswald had informed them, the intendant made his appearance in the forenoon 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 out to assist Miss Heatherstone to dismount, and she frankly extended her hand to him as she reached the ground. Edward was a little surprised as well as pleased, at this condescension on her part toward a forester.

“You do me much honor, Mistress Patience,” said he, bowing.

“I can not forget that I owe my life to you, Master Armitage,” replied Patience, “and I can not be too grateful. May I request another favor of 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 hastily reject any overtures which may be made to you by my father; that is all. And now let me go in and see your sisters, for my father has praised them very much, and I wish to know them.”

Edward led the way into the cottage, and Patience followed him, while the intendant was in conversation with Humphrey. Edward, having introduced his sisters and Clara, then went out to pay his respects to the intendant, who, now they were alone, was very candid toward both him and Humphrey.

Edward then told the intendant that there was an iron chest with a good deal of money in it, and jewels also, and many other articles of value 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, such as the bedding, armor, &c. I will only take Clara’s own packages, and the valuables and papers. The remainder may stay here, as they can be of no use, till they are demanded from you. Where is Oswald Partridge?”

“In the stable with the horses, sir,” replied Humphrey.

“Then, when the cart is loaded—and it had better be done by you while the men are in the stable—Oswald shall take charge of it, and take the 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 a little conversation with you. You are aware how much I feel indebted to you for the service you have rendered me, and how anxious I am to show my gratitude. You are born for better things than to remain an obscure forester, and perhaps a deer-stalker. I have now an offer to make to you, which I trust, upon reflection, you will not refuse—and I say reflection, because I do not wish you to give an