"Not over me, certainly, and not over my grandfather, for he has
dismissed him."
"Were you brought up at the cottage, young man?"
"No, sir, I was brought up at Arnwood. I was a playmate of the children
of Colonel Beverley."
"Educated with them?"
"Yes, for, as far as my wilfulness would permit, the chaplain was always
ready to give me instruction."
"Where were you when Arnwood was burnt down?"
"I was at the cottage at that time," replied Edward, grinding his teeth
and looking wildly.
"Nay, nay, I can forgive any expression of feeling on your part, my
young man, when that dreadful and disgraceful deed is brought to your
memory. It was a stain that can never be effaced--a deed most
diabolical, and what we thought would call down the vengeance of heaven.
If prayers could avert, or did avert it, they were not wanting on our
side."
Edward remained silent: this admission on the part of the Roundhead
prevented an explosion on his part. He felt that all were not so bad as
he had imagined. After a long pause, he said, "When I came here, sir,
it was to seek Oswald Partridge, and obtain the hounds which he had
promised us; but I presume that my journey is now useless."
"Why so?"
"Because you have the control of the forest, and will not permit dogs
for the chase to be given away to those who are not employed by the
powers 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, I
presume," 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 the same
relative to those who take the deer in the forest by stealth--you
understand me?"
"Yes, sir, I do; and if you will not be offended, I will give you a
candid reply."
"Speak then."
"I consider that the deer in this forest belong to King Charles, who is
my lawful sovereign, and I own no authority but from him. I hold myself
answerable to him alone for any deer I may kill, and I feel sure 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 opinion
of the ruling powers; but if caught, you will be punished, and that by
me, in pursuance of the authority vested in me."
"Well, sir; if so, so be it. You have dismissed the Armitages on
account of their upholding the king, and you cannot, therefore, be
surprised that they uphold him more than ever. Nor can you be surprised
if a dismissed verderer becomes a poacher."
"Nor can you be surprised if a poacher is caught, that he incurs the
penalty," replied the Roundhead. "So now there's an end of our
argument. If you go into the kitchen, you will find wherewithal to
refresh the outward man, and if you wish to remain till Oswald Partridge
comes home, you are welcome."
Edward, who felt indignant at being dismissed to the kitchen, nodded his
head and smiled upon the little girl, and left the room. "Well,"
thought he, as he went along the passage, "I came here for two puppies,
and I have found a Roundhead. I don't know how it is, but I am not so
angry with him as I thought I should be. That little girl had a nice
smile--she was quite handsome when she smiled. Oh, this is the kitchen,
to which," thought he, "the Lord of Arnwood is dismissed by a Covenanter
and Roundhead, probably a tradesman or outlaw, who has served the cause.
Well, be it so; as Humphrey says, `I'll bide my time.' But there is no
one here, so I'll try if there is a stable for White Billy, who is
tired, I presume, of being at the gate."
Edward returned by the way he came, went out of the front door, and
through the garden to where the pony was made fast, and led him away in
search of a stable. He found one behind the house, and filling the rack
with hay, returned to the house, and seated himself at a porch which was
at the door which led to the back premises, for the keeper's house was
large and commodious. Edward was in deep thought, when he was roused by
the little girl, the daughter of the newly-appointed Intendant of the
forest, who said:
"I am afraid, young sir, you have had but sorry welcome in the kitchen,
as there was no one to receive you. I was not aware that Phoebe had
gone out. If you will come with me, I may, perhaps, find you
refreshment."
"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 off
if I can," replied the girl, laughing.
Edward followed her into the kitchen, and she soon produced a cold fowl
and a venison pasty, which she placed on the table; she then went out
and returned with a jug of ale.
"There," said she, putting it on the table, "that is all that I can
find."
"Your father's name is Heatherstone, I believe. It was so on the
warrant."
"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 you that:
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 the
daughter of a Roundhead; and she calls me `sir.' I cannot, therefore,
look like Jacob's grandson, and must be careful." Edward then set to
with a good appetite at the viands which had been placed before him, and
had just finished a hearty meal when Patience Heatherstone again came 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 be useless, and
only hurt him and those who made the attempt." Having said this she
left the room.