Edward then took the counterpane off the bed, and went with it into the
next room. He gently drew the body to the corner of the room, and
covered it up with the counterpane, and then proceeded to examine the
cupboards, etc. In one he found a good store of books, in another there
was linen of all sorts, a great many curious arms, two suits of bright
armor such as was worn in those times, pistols, and guns, and
ammunition. On the floor of one of the cupboards was an iron chest
about two feet by eighteen inches. It was locked. Edward immediately
concluded that this chest held the money of the unfortunate man; but
where was the key? Most likely about his person. He did not like to
afflict the poor boy by putting the question to him, but he went to the
body and examined the pockets of the clothes; he found a bunch of
several keys, which he took, and then replaced the coverlid. He tried
one of the keys, which appeared to be of the right size, to the lock of
the iron chest, and found that it fitted it. Satisfied with this, he
did not raise the lid of the chest, but dragged it out into the center
of the room. There were many things of value about the room; the
candlesticks were silver, and there were goblets of the same metal.
Edward collected all these articles, and a timepiece, and put them into
a basket, of which there were two large ones at the end of the room,
apparently used for holding firewood. Every thing that he thought could
be useful, or of value, he gathered together for the benefit of the
poor orphan boy. He afterward went into another small room, where he
found sundry small trunks and cases locked up. These he brought out
without examining, as he presumed that they contained what was of
value, or they would not be locked. When he had collected every thing,
he found that he had already more than the cart could carry in one
trip; and he wanted to take some bedding with him, as he had not a
spare bed in the cottage to give to the boy. Edward decided in his own
mind that he would take the most valuable articles away that night, and
return with the cart for the remainder early on the following morning.
It was now past noon, and Edward took out of the cupboard what victuals
were left, and then went into the chamber where the boy was, and begged
that he would eat something. The poor boy said that he had no appetite;
but Edward insisted and at last prevailed upon him to eat some bread
and drink a glass of wine, which proved of great service to him. The
poor fellow shuddered as he saw the body covered up in the corner of
the room, but said nothing. Edward was trying to make him eat a little
more, when Pablo made his appearance at the door.
"Have you put up all that you want in the bedchamber?" said Edward.
"Yes, I have put up every thing."
"Then we will bring them out. Come, Pablo, you must help us."
Pablo made signs, and pointed to the door. Edward went out.
"First pull body away from this."
"Yes," replied Edward, "we must do so."
Edward and Pablo pulled the body of the robber on one side of the
doorway, and threw over it some dried fern which lay by; they then
backed the cart down to the door; the iron chest was first got in, then
all the heavy articles, such as armor, guns, and books, etc., and by
that time the cart was more than half loaded. Edward then went into the
chamber, and brought out the packages the boy had made up, and put them
all in the cart until it was loaded high up; they brought out some
blankets, and laid over all to keep things steady; and then Edward told
the boy that all was ready, and that they had better go.
"Yes, I am willing," replied he, with streaming eyes; "but let me see
him once more."
"Come, then," said Edward, leading him to the corpse, and uncovering
the face.
The boy knelt down, kissed the forehead and cold lips, covered up the
face again, and then rose and wept bitterly on Edward's shoulder.
Edward did not attempt to check his sorrow, he thought it better it
should have vent; but, after a time, he led the boy by degrees till
they were out of the cottage.
"Now then," said Edward, "we must go, or we shall be late. My poor
little sisters have been dreadfully alarmed at my not having come home
last night, and I long to clasp them in my arms."
"Indeed you must," replied the boy, wiping away his tears, "and I am
very selfish; let us go on."
"No room for cart to get through wood," said Pablo; "hard work, cart
empty--more hard work, cart full."
And so it proved to be; and it required all the united efforts of
Billy, Edward, and Pablo to force a passage for the cart through the
narrow pathway; but at last it was effected, and then they went on at a
quick pace, and in less than two hours the cottage was in sight. When
within two hundred yards of it, Edith, who had been on the watch, came
bounding out, and flew into Edward's arms, and covered him with kisses.
"You naughty Edward, to frighten us so!"
"Look, Edith, I have brought you a nice little playfellow. Welcome him,
dearest."
Edith extended her hand as she looked into the boy's face.
"He is a pretty boy, Edward, much prettier than Pablo."
"No, Missy Edith," said Pablo; "Pablo more man than he."
"Yes, you may be more man, Pablo; but you are not so pretty."
"And where is Alice?"
"She was getting supper ready, and I did not tell her that I saw you
coming, because I wanted first kiss."
"You little jealous thing! but here comes Alice. Dear Alice, you have
been very uneasy, but it was not my fault," said Edward, kissing her.
"If I had not been where I was, this poor boy would have been killed as
well as his father. Make him welcome, Alice, for he is an orphan now,
and must live with us. I have brought many things in the cart, and
tomorrow we will bring more, for we have no bed for him, and to-night
he must sleep with me."
"We will make him as happy as we can, Edward; and we will be sisters to
him," said Alice, looking at the boy, who was blushing deeply. "How old
are you, and what is your name?"
"I shall be thirteen years old next January," replied the boy.
"And your Christian name?"
"I will tell you by-and-by," replied he, confused.
They arrived at the cottage, and Edward and Pablo were busy unpacking
the cart, and putting all the contents into the inner chamber, where
Pablo now slept, when Alice, who, with Edith, had been talking to the
boy, came to Edward and said,
"Edward, she's a girl!"
"A girl!" replied Edward, astonished.
"Yes, she has told me so, and wished me to tell you."
"But why does she wear boys' clothes?"
"It was her father's wish, as he was very often obliged to send her to
Lymington to a friend's house, and he was afraid of her getting into
trouble; but she has not told me her story as yet--she says that she
will to-night."
"Well, then," replied Edward, "you must make up a bed for her in your
room to-night. Take Pablo's bed, and he shall sleep with me. To-morrow
morning I will bring some more bedding from her cottage."
"How Humphrey will be surprised when he comes back!" said Alice,
laughing..
"Yes; she will make a nice little wife for him some years hence; and
she may prove an heiress, perhaps, for there is an iron chest with
money in it."
Alice returned to her new companion, and Edward and Pablo continued to
unload the cart.
"Well, Pablo, I suppose you will allow that, now that you know she is a
girl, she is handsomer than you?"
"Oh yes," replied Pablo, "very handsome girl; but too much girl for
handsome boy."
At last every thing was out of the cart, the iron chest dragged into
Pablo's room, and Billy put into his stable and given his supper, which
he had well earned, for the cart had been very heavily loaded. They
then all sat down to supper, Edward saying to their new acquaintance,
"So I find that I am to have another sister instead of another brother.
Now you will tell me your name?"
"Yes; Clara is my name."
"And why did you not tell me that you were a girl?"
"I did not like, because I was in boys' clothes, and felt ashamed;
indeed I was too unhappy to think about what I was. My poor dear
father!" and she burst into tears.
Alice and Edith kissed her and consoled her, and she became calm again.
After supper was over, they busied themselves making arrangements for
her sleeping in their room, and then they went to prayers.
"We have much to be thankful for, my dears," said Edward. "I am sure I
feel that I have been in great danger, and I only wish that I had been
more useful than I have been; but it has been the will of God, and we
must not arraign his decrees. Let us return thanks for his great
mercies, and bow in submission to his dispensations, and pray that he
will give peace to poor little Clara, and soften her affliction."
And as Edward prayed, little Clara knelt and sobbed, while Alice
caressed her with her arm round her waist, and stopped at times her
prayer to kiss and console her. When they had finished, Alice led her
away to her bedroom, followed by Edith, and they put her to bed. Edward
and Pablo also retired, both worn out by the fatigue and excitement of
the day.
They were up on the following morning at day-dawn, and, putting Billy
in the cart, set off for the cottage of Clara. They found every thing
as they had left it, and, having loaded the cart with what had been
left behind the day before, and bedding for two beds, with several
articles of furniture which Edward thought might be useful, there being
still a little room left, Edward packed up, in a wooden case with dried
fern, all the wine that was in the cupboard; and, having assisted Pablo
in forcing the cart once more through the path in the wood, he left him
to return home with the cart, while he remained to wait the arrival of
Humphrey, and whoever might come with him from the intendant's. About
ten o'clock, as he was watching outside of the wood, he perceived
several people approaching him, and soon made out that Humphrey, the
intendant, and Oswald were among the number. When they came up to him,
Edward saluted the intendant in a respectful manner, and shook hands
with Oswald, and then led the way by the narrow path which led through
the wood to the cottage. The intendant was on horseback, but all the
rest were on foot.
The intendant left his horse to the care of one of the verderers, and
went through the wood on foot with the rest of the party, preceded by
Edward. He appeared to be very grave and thoughtful, and Edward thought
that there was a coolness in his manner toward himself--for it must be
recollected that Mr. Heatherstone had not seen Edward since he had
rendered him such service in saving the life of his daughter. The
consequence was that Edward felt somewhat indignant; but he did not
express his feelings, by his looks even, but conveyed the party in
silence to the cottage. On their arrival, Edward pointed to the body of
the robber, which had been covered with fern, and the verderers exposed
it.
"By whose hand did that man fall?" said the intendant.
"By the hand of the party who lived in the cottage."
Edward then led the way round to the back of the cottage where the
other robber lay--
"And this man was slain by my hand," replied Edward.
"We have one more body to see," continued Edward, leading the way into
the cottage, and uncovering the corpse of Clara's father.
Mr. Heatherstone looked at the face and appeared much moved. "Cover it
up," said he, turning away; and then sitting down on a chair close to
the table--
"And how was this found?" he said.
"I neither saw this person killed, nor the robber you first saw, but I
heard the report of the firearms at almost the same moment, and I
presume that they fell by each other's hands."
The intendant called his clerk, who had accompanied him, and desired
him to get ready his writing materials, and then said--
"Edward Armitage, we will now take down your deposition as to what has
occurred."
Edward then commenced by stating, "that he was out in the forest and
had lost his way, and was seeking a path home."
"You were out in the forest during the night?
"Yes, sir, I was."
"With your gun?"
"I always carry my gun," replied Edward.
"In pursuit of game?"
"No, sir; I was not. I have never been out in pursuit of game during
night-time in my life."
"What were you then about? you did not go out for nothing?"
"I went out to commune with my own thoughts; I was restless, and I
wandered about without knowing where I went, and that is the reason why
I lost my way."
"And pray what may have excited you?"
"I will tell you: I was over with Oswald Partridge the day before; you
had just arrived from London, and he gave me the news that King Charles
had been proclaimed in Scotland, and that news unsettled me."
"Well, proceed."
Edward met with no more interruption in his narrative. He stated
briefly all that had taken place, from the time he fell in with the
robbers till the winding up of the catastrophe.
The clerk took down all that Edward had stated, and then read it over
to him to ascertain if he had written it down correctly, and then
inquired of Edward "if he could read and write?"
"I should hope so," replied Edward, taking the pen and signing his name.
The clerk stared, and then said--"People in your condition do not often
know how to read and write, Mr. Forester, and therefore you need not be
offended at the question."
"Very true," replied Edward. "May I ask if my presence is considered
any longer to be necessary?"
"You stated that there was a boy in the house, young man," said the
intendant: "what has become of him?"
"He is removed to my cottage."
"Why did you do so?"
"Because when his father died I promised to him that I would take care
of his child; and I intend to keep my word."
"You had spoken with him, then, before he died?" said the intendant.
"Not so; it was all carried on by signs on his part, but it was as
intelligible as if he spoke, and what I replied he well understood; and
I really think I removed a great anxiety off his mind by giving him the
promise."
The intendant paused, and then said--"I perceive that some articles
have been removed--the bedding, for instance--have you taken any thing
away?"
"I have removed bedding, for I had no bed to offer to the lad, and he
told me that the cottage and furniture belonged to his father; of
course by his father's death it became his, and I felt that I was
warranted in so doing."
"May I ask, did you remove any papers?"
"I can not tell; the lad packed up his own things; there were some
boxes removed, which were locked up, and the contents are to me wholly
unknown. I could not leave the boy here in this scene of death, and I
could not well leave the property belonging to him to be at the mercy
of any other plunderers of the forest. I did as I considered right for
the benefit of the boy, and in accordance with the solemn promise which
I made to his father."
"Still the property should not have been removed. The party who now
lies dead there is a well-known Malignant."
"How do you know that, sir?" interrupted Edward; "did you recognize him
when you saw the body?"
"I did not say that I did," replied the intendant.
"You either must have so done, sir." replied Edward, "or you must have
been aware that he was residing in this cottage: you have to choose
between."
"You are bold, young man," replied the intendant, "and I will reply to
your observation. I did recognize the party when I saw his face, and I
knew him to be one who was condemned to death, and who escaped from
prison a few days before the one appointed for his execution. I heard
search had been made for him, but in vain, and it was supposed that he
had escaped beyond the seas. Now his papers may be the means of giving
the Parliament information against others as well as himself."
"And enable them to commit a few more murders," added Edward.
"Silence, young man; the authorities must not be spoken of in so
irreverent a manner. Are you aware that your language is treasonable?"
"According to act of Parliament, as now present constituted, it may
be," replied Edward, "but as a loyal subject of King Charles the
Second, I deny it."
"I have no concern with your loyalty, young man, but I will not admit
any language to be uttered in my presence against the ruling powers.
The inquest is over. Let every one leave the house except Edward
Armitage, to whom I would speak alone."
"Excuse me one moment, sir," said Edward, "and I will return."
Edward went out with the rest, and, calling Humphrey aside, said to
him, "Contrive to slip away unperceived; here are the keys; haste to
the cottage as fast as you can; look for all tho papers you can find in
the packages taken there; bury them and the iron chest in the garden,
or anywhere where they can not be discovered."
Humphrey nodded and turned away, and Edward re-entered the cottage.
He found the intendant was standing over the corpse; he had removed the
coverlid, and was looking mournfully down on the face disfigured with
blood. Perceiving the entrance of Edward, he again took his seat at the
table, and after a pause said,
"Edward Armitage, that you have been brought up very superior to your
station in life is certain; and that you are loyal, bold, and resolute
is equally so; you have put me under an obligation which I never can
repay, even if you allowed me to exert myself in your behalf. I take
this opportunity of acknowledging it; and now allow me to say, that,
for these times, you are much too frank and impetuous. This is no time
for people to give vent to their feelings and opinions. Even I am as
much surrounded with spies as others, and am obliged to behave myself
accordingly. Your avowed attachment to the king's cause has prevented
me from showing that more than cordiality that I really feel for you,
and to which you are in every way entitled."
"I can not conceal my opinions, sir; I was brought up in the house of a
loyal Cavalier, and never will be otherwise."
"Granted--why should you be? but do you not yourself see that you do
the cause more harm than good by thus avowing your opinions when such
avowal is useless? If every other man in the county, who is of your
opinion, was to express himself, now that your cause is hopeless, as
you have done, the prisons would be crowded, the executions would be
dayly, and the cause would be, in proportion, weakened by the loss of
the most daring. 'Bide your time' is a good motto, and I recommend it
to you. You must feel that, however we may be at variance in our
opinions, Edward Armitage, my hand and my authority never can be used
against one to whom I am so indebted; and, feeling this, you compel me,
in the presence of others, to use a harshness and coldness toward you,
contrary, wholly contrary, to what, you may believe me when I say it, I
really feel for one who so nobly rescued my only child."
"I thank you, sir, for your advice, which I feel to be good, and for
your good opinion, which I value."
"And which I feel that you deserve; and you shall have, young as you
are, my confidence, which I know you will not abuse. I did know this
man who now lies dead before us, and I did also know that he was
concealed in this cottage; Major Ratcliffe was one of my earliest and
dearest friends, and until this unhappy civil war, there never was any
difference between us, and even afterward only in politics, and the
cause we each espoused. I knew, before I came down here as intendant,
where his place of concealment was, and have been most anxious for his
safety."
"Excuse me, Mr. Heatherstone, but each day I find more to make me like
you than I did the day before; at first I felt most inimical; now I
only wonder how you can be leagued with the party you now are."
"Edward Armitage, I will now answer for myself and thousands more. You
are too young a man to have known the cause of the insurrection, or,
rather, opposition, to the unfortunate King Charles. He attempted to
make himself absolute, and to wrest the liberties from the people of
England: that his warmest adherents will admit. When I joined the party
which opposed him, I little thought that matters would have been
carried so far as they have been; I always considered it lawful to take
up arms in defense of our liberties, but at the same time I equally
felt that the person of the king was sacred."
"I have heard so, sir."
"Yes, and in truth; for never did any people strive more zealously to
prevent the murder of the king--for murder it was--than my relative
Ashley Cooper and myself--so much so, indeed, as to have incurred not
only the suspicion but the ill-will of Cromwell, who, I fear, is now
making rapid advances toward that absolute authority for which the king
has suffered, and which he would now vest in his own person. I
considered that our cause was just; and, had the power been left in the
hands of those who would have exercised it with discretion and
moderation, the king would even now have been on the throne, and the
liberties of his subjects sacred; but it is easier to put a vast and
powerful engine into motion than to stop it, and such has been the case
in this unfortunate civil war. Thousands who took an active part
against the king will, when the opportunity is ripe, retrace their
steps; but I expect that we have much to suffer before that time will
come. And now, Edward Armitage, I have said more to you than I have to
any person breathing, except my own kinsman."
"I thank you for your confidence, sir, which not only will not be
betrayed, but will act as a warning to guide my future conduct."
"I meant it should. Be no longer rash and careless in avowing your
opinions. You can do no good to the cause, and may do yourself much
harm. And now I must ask you another question, which I could not before
the other people. You have surprised me by stating that Major Ratcliffe
had a son here; there must be some mistake, or the boy must be an
impostor. He had a daughter, an only daughter, as I have; but he never
had a son."
"It is a mistake that I fell into, sir, by finding a boy here, as I
stated to you at the inquest; and I considered it to be a boy, until I
brought her home, and she then discovered to my sisters that she was a
girl dressed in boys' clothes. I did not give that as explanation at
the inquest, as it was not necessary."
"I am right, then. I must relieve you of that charge, Edward Armitage;
she shall be to me as a daughter, and I trust that you will agree with
me, without any disparagement to your feelings, that my house will be a
more fit residence for her than your cottage."
"I will not prevent her going, if she wishes it, after your explanation
and confidence, Mr. Heatherstone."
"One thing more. As I said to you before, Edward Armitage, I believe
many of these verderers, all of which have been selected from the army,
are spies upon me: I must therefore be careful. You said that you were
not aware that there were any papers?"
"I saw none, sir; but I suspect, from the many locked-up trunks and
small boxes, that there may be; but when I went out with the others
from the inquest, I dispatched my brother Humphrey to the cottage,
advising him to open all the locks and to remove any papers which he
might find."
The intendant smiled.
"Well, if such is the case, we have only to go to your cottage and make
an examination. We shall find nothing, and I shall have performed my
duty. I was not aware that your brother was here. I presume it was the
young man who walked with Oswald Partridge."
"It was, sir."
"By his appearance, I presume that he, also, was brought up at Arnwood?"
"He was, sir, as well as I," replied Edward.
"Well, then, I have but one word more to say--recollect, if I appear
harsh and severe in the presence of others, it is only assumed toward
you, and not real. You understand that?"
"I do, sir, and beg you will exercise your discretion."
The intendant then went out and said to the party, "It appears from
what I can extract from this lad Armitage, that there are boxes which
he removed to his cottage; we will go there to see what they may
contain. It is now noon. Have you any refreshment to offer us in your
cottage, young man, when we arrive?"
"I keep no hostelry, sir," replied Edward, somewhat gloomily; "my own
labor and my brother's is sufficient for the support of my own family,
but no more."
"Let us move on; and two of you keep your eye upon that young man,"
said the intendant aside.
They then proceeded through the wood; the intendant mounted his horse,
and they set off for the cottage, where they arrived at about two
o'clock in the afternoon.