The Children of the New Forest

by Frederick Marryat

  CHAPTER VIII.

  Edward put the pony to a trot, and in two hours was on the other sideof the New Forest. The directions given to him by Jacob were notforgotten, and before it was noon he found himself at the gate of thekeeper's house. Dismounting, and hanging the bridle of the pony overthe rail, he walked through a small garden, neatly kept, but, so earlyin the year, not over gay, except that the crocus and snowdrops werepeeping. He rapped at the door with his knuckles, and a girl of aboutfourteen, very neatly dressed, answered the summons.

  "Is Oswald Partridge at home, maiden," said Edward.

  "No, young man, he is not. He is in the forest."

  "When will he return?"

  "Toward the evening is his time, unless he is more than usuallysuccessful."

  "I have come some distance to find him," replied Edward; "and it wouldvex me to return without seeing him. Has he a wife, or any one that Icould speak to?"

  "He has no wife; but I am willing to deliver a message."

  "I am come about some dogs which he promised to Jacob Armitage, myrelation; but the old man is too unwell, and has been for some time, tocome himself for them, and he has sent me."

  "There are dogs, young and old, large and small, in the kennels; so fardo I know, and no more."

  "I fear, then, I must wait till his return," replied Edward.

  "I will speak to my father," replied the young girl, "if you will waitone moment."

  In a minute or two the girl returned, saying that her father beggedthat he would walk in, and he would speak with him. Edward bowed, andfollowed the young girl, who led the way to a room, in which was seateda man dressed after the fashion of the Roundheads of the day. Hissteeple-crowned hat lay on the chair, with his sword beneath it. He wassitting at a table covered with papers.

  "Here is the youth, father," said the girl; and having said this, shecrossed the room and took a seat by the side of the fire. The man, orwe should rather say gentleman--for he had the appearance of one,notwithstanding the somber and peculiar dress he wore, continued toread a letter which he had just opened; and Edward, who feared himselfthe prisoner of a Roundhead, when he only expected to meet a keeper,was further irritated by the neglect shown toward him by the party.Forgetting that he was, by his own assertion, not Edward Beverley, butthe relative of one Jacob Armitage, he colored up with anger as hestood at the door. Fortunately the time that it took the other party toread through the letter gave Edward also time for recollecting thedisguise under which he appeared; the color subsided from his cheeks,and he remained in silence, occasionally meeting the look of the littlegirl, who, when their eyes met, immediately withdrew her glance.

  "What is your business, young man?" at last said the gentleman at thetable.

  "I came, sir, on private business with the keeper, Oswald Partridge, toobtain two young hounds, which he promised to my grandfather, JacobArmitage."

  "Armitage!" said the other party, referring to a list on the table;"Armitage--Jacob--yes--I see he is one of the verderers. Why has he notbeen here to call upon me?"

  "For what reason should he call upon you, sir?" replied Edward.

  "Simply, young man, because the New Forest is, by the Parliament,committed to my charge. Notice has been given for all those who wereemployed to come here, that they might be permitted to remain, or bedischarged, as I may deem most advisable."

  "Jacob Armitage has heard nothing of this, sir," replied Edward. "Hewas a keeper, appointed under the king; for two or three years hisallowances have never been paid, and he has lived on his own cottage,which was left to him by his father, being his own property."

  "And pray, may I ask, young man, do you live with Jacob Armitage?"

  "I have done so for more than a year."

  "And as your relation has received no pay and allowances, as you state,pray by what means has he maintained himself?"

  "How have the other keepers maintained themselves?" replied Edward.

  "Do not put questions to me, sir," replied the gentleman; "but bepleased to reply to mine. What has been the means of subsistence ofJacob Armitage?"

  "If you think he has no means of subsistence, sir, you are mistaken,"replied Edward. "We have land of our own, which we cultivate; we haveour pony and our cart; we have our pigs and our cows."

  "And they have been sufficient?"

  "Had the patriarchs more?" replied Edward.

  "You are pithy at reply, young man; but I know something of JacobArmitage, and we know," continued he, putting his finger close to somewriting opposite the name on the list, "with whom he has associated,and with whom he has served. Now allow me to put one question. You havecome, you say, for two young hounds. Are their services required foryour pigs and cows, and to what uses are they to be put."

  "We have as good a dog as there is in the forest," replied Edward; "butwe wished to have others in case we should lose him."

  "As good a dog as in the forest--good for what?"

  "For hunting."

  "Then you acknowledge that you do hunt?"

  "I acknowledge nothing for Jacob Armitage; he may answer for himself,"replied Edward; "but allow me to assure you that if he has killedvenison, no one can blame him."

  "Perhaps you will explain why?"

  "Nothing is more easy. Jacob Armitage served King Charles, who employedhim as a verderer in the forest, and paid him his wages. Those whoshould not have done so rebelled against the king, took his authorityfrom him, and the means of paying those he employed. They were stillservants of the king, for they were not dismissed; and, having no othermeans of support, they considered that their good master would be buttoo happy that they should support themselves by killing, for theirsubsistence, that venison which they could no longer preserve for himwithout eating some themselves."

  "Then you admit that Jacob Armitage has killed the deer in the forest?"

  "I admit nothing for Jacob Armitage."

  "You admit that you have killed it yourself."

  "I shall not answer that question, sir; in the first place, I am nothere to criminate myself; and, in the next, I must know by whatauthority you have the right to inquire."

  "Young man," replied the other, in a severe tone, "if you wish to knowmy authority, malapert as you are (at this remark Edward started, yet,recollecting himself, he compressed his lips and stood still), this ismy commission, appointing me the agent of Parliament to take charge andsuperintend the New Forest, with power to appoint and dismiss thosewhom I please. I presume you must take my word for it, as you can notread and write."

  Edward stepped up to the table, and very quietly took up the paper andread it. "You have stated what is correct, sir," said he, laying itdown; "and the date of it is, I perceive, on the 20th of the lastmonth--December. It is, therefore, but eighteen days old."

  "And what inference would you draw from that, young man?" replied thegentleman, looking up to him with some astonishment.

  "Simply this, sir--that Jacob Armitage has been laid up with therheumatism for three months, during which time he certainly has notkilled any venison. Now, sir, until the Parliament took the forest intotheir hands, it undoubtedly belonged to his majesty, if it does notnow; therefore Jacob Armitage, for whatever slaughter he may havecommitted, is, up to the present, only answerable to his sovereign,King Charles."

  "It is easy to perceive the school in which you have been brought up,young man, even if there was not evidence on this paper that yourforefather served under the Cavalier, Colonel Beverley, and has beenbrought up to his way of thinking."

  "Sir, it is a base dog that bites the hand that feeds him," repliedEdward, with warmth. "Jacob Armitage, and his father before him, wereretainers in the family of Colonel Beverley; they were indebted to himfor the situation they held in the forest; indebted to him for everything; they revere his name, they uphold the cause for which he fell,as I do."

  "Young man, if you do not speak advisedly, at all events you speakgratefully; neither have I a word of disrespect to offer to the memoryof Colonel Beverl
ey, who was a gallant man, and true to the cause whichhe espoused, although it was not a holy one; but, in my position, I cannot, in justice to those whom I serve, give places and emolument tothose who have been, and still are, as I may judge by your expressions,adverse to the present government."

  "Sir," replied Edward, "your language, with respect to ColonelBeverley, has made me feel respect for you, which I confess I did notat first; what you say is very just, not that I think you harm JacobArmitage, as, in the first place, I know that he would not serve underyou; and, in the next, that he is too old and infirm to hold thesituation; neither has he occasion for it, as his cottage and land arehis own, and you can not remove him."

  "He has the title, I presume," replied the gentleman.

  "He has the title given to his grandfather, long before King Charleswas born, and I presume the Parliament do not intend to invalidate theacts of former kings."

  "May I inquire what relation you are to Jacob Armitage?"

  "I believe I have said before, his grandson."

  "You live with him?"

  "I do."

  "And if the old man dies, will inherit his property?"

  Edward smiled, and looking at the young girl, said:

  "Now, I ask you, maiden, if your father does not presume upon hisoffice."

  The young girl laughed, and said:

  "He is in authority."

  "Not over me, certainly, and not over my grandfather, for he hasdismissed him."

  "Were you brought up at the cottage, young man?"

  "No, sir, I was brought up at Arnwood. I was playmate of the childrenof Colonel Beverley."

  "Educated with them?"

  "Yes, for as far as my willfulness would permit, the chaplain wasalways ready to give me instruction."

  "Where were you when Arnwood was burned down?"

  "I was at the cottage at that time," replied Edward, grinding his teethand looking wildly.

  "Nay, nay, I can forgive any expression of feeling on your part, youngman, when that dreadful and disgraceful deed is brought to your memory.It was a stain that can never be effaced--a deed most diabolical, andwhat we thought would call down the vengeance of Heaven. If prayerscould avert, or did avert it, they were not wanting on our side."

  Edward remained silent: this admission on the part of the Roundheadprevented an explosion on his part. He felt that all were not so bad ashe had imagined. After a long pause, he said:

  "When I came here, sir, it was to seek Oswald Partridge, and obtain thehounds which he had promised us; but I presume that my journey is nowuseless."

  "Why so?"

  "Because you have the control of the forest, and will not permit dogsfor the chase to be given away to those who are not employed by thepowers 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, Ipresume," said he, smiling, "you think I have no right to interfere, asit 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 thesame relative to those who take the deer in the forest by stealth--youunderstand me?"

  "Yes, sir, I do; and if you will not be offended, I will give you acandid reply."

  "Speak, then."

  "I consider that the deer in this forest belong to King Charles, who ismy lawful sovereign, and I own no authority but from him. I hold myselfanswerable to him alone for any deer I may kill, and I feel sure of hispermission and full forgiveness for what I may do."

  "That may be your opinion, my good sir, but it will not be the opinionof the ruling powers; but if caught, you will be punished, and that byme, in pursuance of the authority vested in me."

  "Well, sir, if so, so be it. You have dismissed the Armitages onaccount of their upholding the king, and you can not, therefore, besurprised that they uphold him more than ever. Nor can you be surprisedif a dismissed verderer becomes a poacher."

  "Nor can you be surprised, if a poacher is caught, that he incurs thepenalty," replied the Roundhead. "So now there's an end of ourargument. If you go into the kitchen you will find wherewithal torefresh the outward man, and if you wish to remain till OswaldPartridge comes home, you are welcome."

  Edward, who felt indignant at being dismissed to the kitchen, noddedhis 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 notangry with him as I thought I should be. That little girl had a nicesmile--she was quite handsome when she smiled. Oh, this is the kitchen,to which," thought he, "the Lord of Arnwood is dismissed by aCovenanter and Roundhead, probably a tradesman or outlaw, who hasserved the cause. Well, be it so; as Humphrey says, 'I'll bide mytime.' But there is no one here, so I'll try if there is a stable forWhite Billy, who is tired, I presume, of being at the gate."

  Edward returned by the way he came, went out of the front door andthrough the garden to where the pony was made fast, and led him away insearch of a stable. He found one behind the house, and filling the rackwith hay, returned to the house and seated himself at a porch which wasat the door which led to the back premises, for the keeper's house waslarge and commodious. Edward was in deep thought, when he was roused bythe little girl, the daughter of the newly-appointed intendant of theforest, 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 hadgone 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 offif I can," replied the girl, laughing.

  Edward followed her into the kitchen, and she soon produced a cold fowland a venison pasty, which she placed on the table; she then went outand returned with a jug of ale.

  "There," said she, putting it on the table, "that is all that I canfind."

  "Your father's name is Heatherstone, I believe. It was so on thewarrant."

  "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 youthat: 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 thedaughter of a Roundhead; and she calls me 'Sir.' I can not, therefore,look like Jacob's grandson, and must be careful." Edward then set towith a good appetite at the viands which had been placed before him,and had just finished a hearty meal when Patience Heatherstone againcame 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 beuseless and only hurt him and those who made the attempt." Having saidthis, she left the room.