The Children of the New Forest, Frederick Marryat [uplifting novels TXT] 📗

you by-and-by; I do not think I shall be here again for some days. I must be a great deal at the cottage when Humphrey is away, for Pablo will have a great charge upon him—what with the dairy, and horses, and breed of goats, and other things—more than he can attend to; but as soon as Humphrey returns, I will come to you and make preparations for our departure. Till then, farewell, both of you. We must see to provision you for three weeks or a month, before Humphrey starts."

Edward bade them a hearty farewell, and then rode to the cottage.

Although Alice and Edith had been somewhat prepared for leaving the cottage, yet the time was so very uncertain, that the blow fell heavy upon them. They were to leave their brothers whom they loved so dearly, to go to strangers; and when they understood that they were to leave in two days, and that they should not see Edward again, their grief was very great; but Edward reasoned with Alice and consoled her, although with Edith it was a more difficult task. She not only lamented her brothers, but her cow, her pony, and her kids; all the dumb animals were friends and favorites of Edith; and even the idea of parting with Pablo, was the cause of a fresh burst of tears. Having made every arrangement with Humphrey, Edward once more took his leave, promising to come over and assist Pablo as soon as he could.

The next day Humphrey was busied in his preparations. They supplied the provisions to Clara's cottage; and when Pablo took them over in the cart, Humphrey rode to Lymington and provided a conveyance to London for the following day. We may as well observe, that they set off at the hour appointed, and arrived safely at London in three days. There, at an address given in a letter, they found the coach waiting; and having given his sisters into the charge of an elderly waiting-woman, who had come up in the coach to take charge of them, they quitted him with many tears, and Humphrey hastened back to the New Forest.

On his return, he found to his surprise that Edward had not called at the cottage as he had promised; and with a mind foreboding evil, he mounted a horse and set off across the forest to ascertain the cause. As he was close to the intendant's house he was met by Oswald, who informed him that Edward had been seized with a violent fever, and was in a very dangerous state, having been delirious for three or four days.

Humphrey hastened to dismount, and knocked at the door of the house; it was opened by Sampson, and Humphrey requested to be shown up to his brother's room. He found Edward in the state described by Oswald, and wholly unconscious of his presence; the maid, Phoebe, was by his bedside.

"You may leave," said Humphrey, rather abruptly; "I am his brother."

Phoebe retired, and Humphrey was alone with his brother.

"It was, indeed, an unhappy day when you came to this house," exclaimed
Humphrey, as the tears rolled down his cheeks; "my poor, poor Edward!"

Edward now began to talk incoherently, and attempted to rise from the bed, but his efforts were unavailing—he was too weak; but he raved of Patience Heatherstone, and he called himself Edward Beverley more than once, and he talked of his father and of Arnwood.

"If he has raved in this manner," thought Humphrey, "he has not many secrets left to disclose. I will not leave him, and will keep others away if I can."

Humphrey had been sitting an hour with his brother, when the surgeon came to see his patient. He felt his pulse, and asked Humphrey if he was nursing him.

"I am his brother, sir," replied Humphrey.

"Then, my good sir, if you perceive any signs of perspiration—and I think now that there is a little—keep the clothes on him and let him perspire freely. If so, his life will be saved."

The surgeon withdrew, saying that he would return again late in the evening.

Humphrey remained for another two hours at the bedside, and then feeling that there was a sign of perspiration, he obeyed the injunctions of the surgeon, and held on the clothes against all Edward's endeavors to throw them off. For a short time the perspiration was profuse, and the restlessness of Edward subsided into a deep slumber.

"Thank Heaven! there are then hopes."

"Did you say there were hopes?" repeated a voice behind him.

Humphrey turned round and perceived Patience and Clara behind him, who had come in without his observing it.

"Yes," replied Humphrey, looking reproachfully at Patience, "there are hopes, by what the surgeon said to me—hopes that he may yet be able to quit this house which he was so unfortunate as to enter."

This was a harsh and rude speech of Humphrey; but he considered that Patience Heatherstone had been the cause of his brother's dangerous state, and that she had not behaved well to him.

Patience made no reply, but falling down on her knees by the bedside, prayed silently; and Humphrey's heart smote him for what he had said to her. "She can not be so bad," thought Humphrey, as Patience and Clara quitted the room without the least noise.

Shortly afterward the intendant came up into the room and offered his hand to Humphrey, who pretended not to see it, and did not take it.

"He has got Arnwood: that is enough for him," thought Humphrey; "but my hand in friendship he shall not receive."

The intendant put his hand within the clothes, and feeling the high perspiration that Edward was in, said—

"I thank thee, O God! for all thy mercies, and that thou hast been pleased to spare this valuable life. How are your sisters, Master Humphrey?" said the intendant; "my daughter bade me inquire. I will send over to them and let them know that your brother is better, if you do not leave this for the cottage yourself after the surgeon has called again."

"My sisters are no longer at the cottage, Master Heatherstone," replied Humphrey; "they have gone to some friends who have taken charge of them. I saw them safe to London myself, or I should have known of my brother's illness and have been here before this."

"You indeed tell me news, Master Humphrey," replied the intendant. "With whom, may I ask, are your sisters placed, and in what capacity are they gone?"

This reply of the intendant's reminded Humphrey that he had somewhat committed himself, as, being supposed to be the daughters of a forester, it was not to be thought that they had gone up to be educated; and he therefore replied—

"They found it lonely in the forest, Master Heatherstone, and wished to see London; so we have taken them there, and put them into the care of those who have promised that they shall be well placed."

The intendant appeared to be much disturbed and surprised, but he said nothing, and soon afterward quitted the room. He almost immediately returned with the surgeon, who, as soon as he felt Edward's pulse, declared that the crisis was over, and that when he awoke he would be quite sensible. Having given directions as to the drink of his patient, and some medicine which he was to take, the surgeon then left, stating that he should not call until the next evening, unless he was sent for, as he considered all danger over.

Edward continued in a quiet slumber for the major portion of the night. It was just break of day when he opened his eyes. Humphrey offered him some drink, which Edward took greedily; and seeing Humphrey, said—

"Oh, Humphrey, I had quite forgotten where I was—I'm so sleepy!" and with these words his head fell on the pillow, and he was again asleep.

When it was broad daylight, Oswald came into the room:

"Master Humphrey, they say that all danger is over now, but that you have remained here all night. I will relieve you now if you will let me. Go and take a walk in the fresh air—it will revive you."

"I will, Oswald, and many thanks. My brother has woke up once, and, I thank God, is quite sensible. He will know you when he wakes again, and then do you send for me."

Humphrey left the room, and was glad, after a night of close confinement in a sick-room, to feel the cool morning air fanning his cheeks. He had not been long out of the house before he perceived Clara coming toward him.

"How d'ye do, Humphrey?" said Clara; "and how is your brother this morning?"

"He is better, Clara, and I hope now out of danger."

"But, Humphrey," continued Clara, "when we came into the room last night, what made you say what you did?"

"I do not recollect that I said any thing."

"Yes, you did; you said that there were now hopes that your brother would be able soon to quit this house which he had been so unfortunate as to enter. Do you recollect?"

"I may have said so, Clara," replied Humphrey; "it was only speaking my thoughts aloud."

"But why do you think so, Humphrey? Why has Edward been unfortunate in entering this house? That is what I want to know. Patience cried so much after she left the room because you said that. Why did you say so? You did not think so a short time ago."

"No, my dear Clara, I did not, but I do now, and I can not give you my reasons; so you must say no more about it."

Clara was silent for a time, and then said—

"Patience tells me that your sisters have gone away from the cottage.
You told her father so."

"It is very true; they have gone."

"But why have they gone? What have they gone for? Who is to look after the cows, and goats, and poultry? Who is to cook your dinner, Humphrey? What can you do without them, and why did you send them away without letting me or Patience know that they were going, so that at least we might have bid them farewell?"

"My dear Clara," replied Humphrey—who, feeling no little difficulty in replying to all these questions, resolved to cut the matter short, by appearing to be angry—"you know that you are the daughter of a gentleman, and so is Patience Heatherstone. You are both of gentle birth, but my sisters, you know, are only the daughters of a forester, and my brother Edward and I are no better. It does not become Mistress Patience and you to be intimate with such as we are, especially now that Mistress Patience is a great heiress; for her father has obtained the large property of Arnwood, and it will be hers after his death. It is not fit that the heiress of Arnwood should mix herself up with foresters' daughters; and as we had friends near Lymington, who offered to assist us, and take our sisters under their charge, we thought it better that they should go; for what would become of them, if any accident was to happen to Edward or to me? Now they will be provided for. After they have been taught, they will make very nice tirewomen to some lady of quality," added Humphrey, with a sneer. "Don't you think they will, my pretty Clara?"

Clara burst into tears.

"You are very unkind, Humphrey," sobbed she. "You had no right to send away your sisters. I don't believe you—that's more!" and Clara ran away into the house.

CHAPTER XXVI.

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,