Our readers may think that Humphrey was very unkind; but it was to avoid
being questioned by Clara, who was evidently sent for the purpose, that
he was so harsh. At the same time it must be admitted that Mr
Heatherstone having obtained possession of Arnwood, rankled no doubt in
the minds of both the brothers, and every act now, on the part of him or
his family, was viewed in a false medium. But our feelings are not
always at our control, and Edward was naturally impetuous, and Humphrey
so much attached, and so much alarmed at his brother's danger, that he
was even more excited. The blow fell doubly heavy, as it appeared that
at the very same time Patience had rejected his brother and taken
possession of their property, which had been held by the family for
centuries. What made the case more annoying was, that explanation, if
there was any to offer on either side, was, under present circumstances,
almost impossible.
Soon after Clara left him Humphrey returned to his brother's room. He
found him awake, and talking to Oswald. Ardently pressing his brother's
hand, Edward said--
"My dear Humphrey, I shall soon be well now, and able, I trust, to quit
this house. What I fear is, that some explanation will be asked for by
the Intendant, not only relative to my sisters having left us, but also
upon other points. This is what I wish to avoid, without giving
offence. I do not think that the Intendant is so much to blame in
having obtained my property, as he does not know that a Beverley
existed, but I cannot bear to have any further intimacy with him,
especially after what has taken place between me and his daughter. What
I have to request is, that you will never quit this room while I am
still here, unless you are relieved by Oswald; so that the Intendant or
anybody else may have no opportunity of having any private communication
with me, or forcing me to listen to what they may have to say. I made
this known to Oswald before you came in."
"Depend upon it, it shall be so, Edward; for I am of your opinion.
Clara came to me just now, and I had much trouble, and was compelled to
be harsh, to get rid of her importunity."
When the surgeon called, he pronounced Edward out of danger, and that
his attendance would be no longer necessary. Edward felt the truth of
this. All that he required was strength; and that he trusted in a few
days to obtain.
Oswald was sent over to the cottage to ascertain how Pablo was going on
by himself. He found that everything was correct, and that Pablo,
although he felt proud of his responsibility, was very anxious for
Humphrey's return, as he found himself very lonely. During Oswald's
absence on this day, Humphrey never quitted the room and although the
Intendant came up several times he never could find an opportunity of
speaking to Edward, which he evidently wished to do.
To inquiries made as to how he was, Edward always complained of great
weakness, for a reason which will soon be understood. Several days
elapsed, and Edward had often been out of bed during the night, when not
likely to be intruded upon, and he now felt himself strong enough to be
removed; and his object was to leave the Intendant's house without his
knowledge, so as to avoid any explanation.
One evening Pablo came over with the horses after it was dark. Oswald
put them into the stable; and the morning proving fine and clear, a
little before break of day Edward came softly downstairs with Humphrey,
and, mounting the horses, set off for the cottage, without any one in
the Intendant's house being aware of their departure.
It must not be supposed, however, that Edward took this step without
some degree of consideration as to the feelings of the Intendant. On
the contrary, he left a letter with Oswald, to be delivered after his
departure, in which he thanked the Intendant sincerely for all the
kindness and compassion he had shown towards him assured him of his
gratitude and kind feelings towards him and his daughter, but said that
circumstances had occurred of which no explanation could be given
without great pain to all parties, which rendered it advisable that he
should take such an apparently unkind step as to leave without bidding
them farewell in person; that he was about to embark immediately for the
continent, to seek his fortune in the wars; and that he wished all
prosperity to the family, which would ever have his kindest wishes and
remembrances.
"Humphrey," said Edward, after they had ridden about two miles across
the forest, and the sun had risen in an unclouded sky, "I feel like an
emancipated slave. Thank God! My sickness has cured me of all my
complaints, and all I want now is active employment. And now, Humphrey,
Chaloner and Grenville are not a little tired of being inured up in
their cottage, and I am as anxious as they are to be off. What will you
do? Will you join us, or will you remain at the cottage?"
"I have reflected upon it, Edward, and I have come to the determination
of remaining at the cottage. You will find it expensive enough to
support one where you are going, and you must appear as a Beverley
should do. We have plenty of money saved to equip you, and maintain you
well for a year or so; but after that you may require more. Leave me
here. I can make money, now that the farm is well stocked; and I have
no doubt that I shall be able to send over a trifle every year to
support the honour of the family. Besides, I do not wish to leave this
for another reason. I want to know what is going on, and watch the
motions of the Intendant and the heiress of Arnwood. I also do not wish
to leave the country until I know how my sisters get on with the Ladies
Conynghame: it is my duty to watch over them. I have made up my mind,
so do not attempt to dissuade me."
"I shall not, my dear Humphrey, as I think you have decided properly;
but I beg you will not think of laying by money for me--a very little
will suffice for my wants."
"Not so, good brother; you must and shall, if I can help you, ruffle it
with the best. You will be better received if you do; for, though
poverty is no sin, as the saying is, it is scouted as sin should be,
while sins are winked at. You know that I require no money, and
therefore you must and shall, if you love me, take it all."
"As you will, my dear Humphrey. Now then, let us put our horses to
speed, for, if possible, we will to-morrow morning leave the forest."
By this time all search for the fugitives from Worcester had long been
over, and there was no difficulty in obtaining the means of embarkation.
Early the next morning everything was ready, and Edward, Humphrey,
Chaloner, Grenville, and Pablo set off for Southampton, one of the
horses carrying the little baggage which they had with them. Edward, as
we have before mentioned, with the money he had saved, and the store at
the cottage, which had been greatly increased, was well supplied with
cash; and that evening they embarked, with their horses, in a small
sailing vessel, and, with a favourable light wind, arrived at a small
port of France on the following day. Humphrey and Pablo returned to the
cottage, we need hardly now say, very much out of spirits at the
separation.
"Oh, Massa Humphrey," said Pablo, as they rode along, "Missy Alice and
Missy Edith go away--I wish go with them. Massa Edward go away--I wish
go with him. You stay at cottage--I wish stay with you. Pablo cannot
be in three places."
"No, Pablo; all you can do is to stay where you can be most useful."
"Yes, I know that. You want me at cottage very much. Missy Alice and
Edith and Massa Edward no want me; so I stay at cottage."
"Yes, Pablo, we will stay at the cottage, but we can't do everything
now. I think we must give up the dairy, now that my sisters are gone.
I'll tell you what I have been thinking of, Pablo. We will make a large
enclosed place, to coax the ponies into during the winter, pick out as
many as we think are good, and sell them at Lymington. That will be
better than churning butter."
"Yes, I see; plenty of work for Pablo."
"And plenty for me, too, Pablo; but you know, when the enclosure is once
made, it will last for a long while; and we will get the wild cattle
into it if we can."
"Yes, I see," said Pablo. "I like that very much; only not like trouble
to build place."
"We shan't have much trouble, Pablo: if we fell the trees inside the
wood at each side, and let them lie one upon the other, the animals will
never break through them."
"That very good idea--save trouble," said Pablo. "And what you do with
cows, suppose no make butter?"
"Keep them, and sell their calves; keep them, to entice the wild cattle
into the pen."
"Yes, that good. And turn out old Billy to 'tice ponies into pen,"
continued Pablo, laughing.
"Yes, we will try it."
We must now return to the Intendant's house. Oswald delivered the
letter to the Intendant, who read it with much astonishment.
"Gone! Is he actually gone?" said Mr Heatherstone.
"Yes, sir, before daylight this morning."
"And why was I not informed of it?" said Mr Heatherstone; "why have you
been a party to this proceeding, being my servant? May I inquire that?"
"I knew Master Edward before I knew you, sir," replied Oswald.
"Then you had better follow him," rejoined the Intendant, in an angry
tone.
"Very well, sir," replied Oswald, who quitted the room. "Good Heaven!
How all my plans have been frustrated!" exclaimed the Intendant, when he
was alone. He then read the letter over more carefully than he had done
at first. "`Circumstances had occurred of which no explanation could be
given by him.' I do not comprehend that--I must see Patience."
Mr Heatherstone opened the door, and called to his daughter.
"Patience," said Mr Heatherstone, "Edward has left the house this
morning; here is a letter which he has written to me. Read it, and let
me know if you can explain some portion of it, which to me is
incomprehensible. Sit down and read it attentively."
Patience, who was much agitated, gladly took the seat and perused
Edward's letter. When she had done so she let it drop in her lap, and
covered all her face, the tears trickling through her fingers. After a
time the Intendant said--
"Patience, has anything passed between you and Edward Armitage?"
Patience made no reply, but sobbed aloud. She might not have shown so
much emotion, but it must be remembered that for the last three weeks
since Edward had spoken to her, and during his subsequent illness, she
had been very unhappy. The reserve of Humphrey, the expressions he had
made use of, his repulse of Clara, and her not having seen anything of
Edward during his illness, added to his sudden and unexpected departure
without a word to her, had broken her spirits, and she sank beneath the
load of sorrow.
The Intendant left her to recover herself before he again addressed her.
When she had ceased sobbing, her father spoke to her in a very kind
voice, begging her that she would not conceal anything from him, as it
was most important to him that the real facts should be known.
"Now tell me, my child, what passed between Edward and you?"
"He told me, just before you came up to us that evening, that he loved
me."
"And what was your reply?"
"I hardly know, my dear father, what it was that I said. I did not like
to be unkind to one who saved my life, and I did not choose to say what
I thought, because--because--because he was of low birth; and how could
I give encouragement to the son of a forester without your permission?"
"Then you rejected him?"
"I suppose I did, or that he considered that I did so. He had a secret
of importance that he would have confided to me, had you not interrupted
us."
"And now, Patience, I must request you to answer me one question
candidly. I do not blame you for your conduct, which was correct under
the circumstances. I also had a secret which I perhaps ought to have
confided; but I did consider that the confidence and paternal kindness
with which I treated Edward would have been sufficient to point out to
you that I could not have been very averse to an union--indeed, the
freedom of communication which I allowed between you must have told you
so: but your sense of duty and propriety has made you act as you ought
to have done, I grant, although contrary to my real wishes."
"Your wishes, my father?" said Patience. "Yes--my wishes; there is
nothing that I so ardently desired as an union between you and Edward;
but I wished you to love him for his own merits."
"I have done so, father," replied Patience, sobbing again, "although I
did not tell him so."