CHAPTER III.
The next morning, as soon as Jacob had given the children theirbreakfast, he set off toward Arnwood. He knew that Benjamin had statedhis intention to return with the horse and see what had taken place,and he knew him well enough to feel sure that he would do so. Hethought it better to see him if possible, and ascertain the fate ofMiss Judith. Jacob arrived at the still smoking ruins of the mansion,and found several people there, mostly residents within a few miles,some attracted by curiosity, others busy in collecting the heavy massesof lead which had been melted from the roof, and appropriating them totheir own benefit; but much of it was still too hot to be touched, andthey were throwing snow on it to cool it, for it had snowed during thenight. At last, Jacob perceived Benjamin on horseback riding leisurelytoward him, and immediately went up to him.
"Well, Benjamin, this is a woeful sight. What is the news fromLymington?"
"Lymington is full of troopers, and they are not over-civil," repliedBenjamin. "And the old lady--where is she?"
"Ah, that's a sad business," replied Benjamin, "and the poor children,too. Poor Master Edward! he would have made a brave gentleman."
"But the old lady is safe," rejoined Jacob. "Did you see her?"
"Yes, I saw her; they thought she was King Charles--poor old soul."
"But they have found out their mistake by this time?"
"Yes, and James Southwold has found it out too," replied Benjamin; "tothink of the old lady breaking his neck!"
"Breaking his neck? You don't say so! How was it?"
"Why, it seems that Southwold thought that she was King Charles dressedup as an old woman, so he seized her and strapped her fast behind him,and galloped away with her to Lymington; but she struggled and kickedso manfully, that he could not hold on, and off they went together, andhe broke his neck."
"Indeed! A judgment--a judgment upon a traitor," said Jacob.
"They were picked up, strapped together as they were, by the othertroopers, and carried to Lymington."
"Well, and where is the old lady, then? Did you see and speak to her?"
"I saw her, Jacob, but I did not speak to her. I forgot to say that,when she broke Southwold's neck, she broke her own too."
"Then the old lady is dead?"
"Yes, that she is," replied Benjamin; "but who cares about her? it'sthe poor children that I pity. Martha has been crying ever since."
"I don't wonder."
"I was at the Cavalier, and the troopers were there, and they wereboasting of what they had done, and called it a righteous work. I couldnot stand that, and I asked one of them if it were a righteous work toburn poor children in their beds? So he turned round, and struck hissword upon the floor, and asked me whether I was one of them--'Who areyou, then?' and I--all my courage went away, and I answered, I was apoor rat-catcher. 'A rat-catcher; are you? Well, then, Mr. Ratcatcher,when you are killing rats, if you find a nest of young ones, don't youkill them too? or do you leave them to grow, and become mischievous,eh?' 'I kill the young ones, of course,' replied I. 'Well, so do weMalignants whenever we find them.' I didn't say a word more, so I wentout of the house as fast as I could."
"Have you heard any thing about the king?" inquired Jacob.
"No, nothing; but the troopers are all out again, and, I hear, are goneto the forest."
"Well, Benjamin, good-by, I shall be off from this part of thecountry--it's no use my staying here. Where's Agatha and cook?"
"They came to Lymington early this morning."
"Wish them good-by for me, Benjamin."
"Where are you going, then?"
"I can't exactly say, but I think London way. I only staid here towatch over the children; and now that they are gone, I shall leaveArnwood forever."
Jacob, who was anxious, on account of the intelligence he had receivedof the troopers being in the forest, to return to the cottage, shookhands with Benjamin, and hastened away. "Well," thought Jacob, as hewended his way, "I'm sorry for the poor old lady, but still, perhaps,it's all for the best. Who knows what they might do with thesechildren! Destroy the nest as well as the rats, indeed! they must findthe nest first." And the old forester continued his journey in deepthought.
We may here observe that, blood-thirsty as many of the Levelers were,we do not think that Jacob Armitage had grounds for the fears which heexpressed and felt; that is to say, we believe that he might have madeknown the existence of the children to the Villiers family, and thatthey would never have been harmed by any body. That by the burning ofthe mansion they might have perished in the flames, had they been inbed, as they would have been at that hour, had he not obtainedintelligence of what was about to be done, is true; but that there wasany danger to them on account of their father having been such a stanchsupporter of the king's cause, is very unlikely, and not borne out bythe history of the times: but the old forester thought otherwise; hehad a hatred of the Puritans, and their deeds had been so exaggeratedby rumor, that he fully believed that the lives of the children werenot safe. Under this conviction, and feeling himself bound by hispromise to Colonel Beverley to protect them, Jacob resolved that theyshould live with him in the forest, and be brought up as his owngrandchildren. He knew that there could be no better place forconcealment; for, except the keepers, few people knew where his cottagewas; and it was so out of the usual paths, and so imbosomed in loftytrees, that there was little chance of its being seen, or being knownto exist. He resolved, therefore, that they should remain with him tillbetter times; and then he would make known their existence to the otherbranches of the family, but not before. "I can hunt for them, andprovide for them," thought he, "and I have a little money, when it isrequired; and I will teach them to be useful; they must learn toprovide for themselves. There's the garden, and the patch of land: intwo or three years, the boys will be able to do something. I can'tteach them much; but I can teach them to fear God. We must get on howwe can, and put our trust in Him who is a father to the fatherless."
With such thoughts running in his head, Jacob arrived at the cottage,and found the children outside the door, watching for him. They allhastened to him, and the dog rushed before them, to welcome his master."Down, Smoker, good dog! Well, Mr. Edward, I have been as quick as Icould. How have Mr. Humphrey and your sisters behaved? But we must notremain outside to-day, for the troopers are scouring the forest, andmay see you. Let us come in directly, for it would not do that theyshould come here."
"Will they burn the cottage down?" inquired Alice, as she took Jacob'shand.
"Yes, my dear, I think they would, if they found that you and yourbrothers were in it; but we must not let them see you."
They all entered the cottage, which consisted of one large room infront, and two back rooms for bedrooms. There was also a third bedroom,which was behind the other two, but which had not any furniture in it.
"Now, let's see what we can have for dinner--there's venison left, Iknow," said Jacob; "come, we must all be useful. Who will be cook?"
"I will be cook," said Alice, "if you will show me how."
"So you shall, my dear," said Jacob, "and I will show you how. There'ssome potatoes in the basket in the corner, and some onions hanging onthe string; we must have some water--who will fetch it?"
"I will," said Edward, who took a pail, and went out to the spring.
The potatoes were peeled and washed by the children--Jacob and Edwardcut the venison into pieces--the iron pot was cleaned; and then themeat and potatoes put with water into the pot, and placed on the fire.
"Now I'll cut up the onions, for they will make your eyes water."
"I don't care," said Humphrey, "I'll cut and cry at the same time."
And Humphrey took up a knife, and cut away most manfully, although hewas obliged to wipe his eyes with his sleeve very often.
"You are a fine fellow, Humphrey," said Jacob. "Now we'll put theonions in, and let it all boil up together. Now you see, you havecooked your own dinner; ain't that pleasant?"
"Yes," cried they all;
"and we will eat our own dinners as soon as itis ready."
"Then, Humphrey, you must get some of the platters down which are onthe drawer; and, Alice, you will find some knives in the drawer. Andlet me see, what can little Edith do? Oh, she can go to the cupboardand find the salt-cellar. Edward, just look out, and if you see anybody coming or passing, let me know. We must put you on guard till thetroopers leave the forest."
The children set about their tasks, and Humphrey cried out, as he veryoften did, "Now, this is jolly!"
While the dinner was cooking, Jacob amused the children by showing themhow to put things in order; the floor was swept, the hearth was madetidy. He shewed Alice how to wash out a cloth, and Humphrey how to dustthe chairs. They all worked merrily, while little Edith stood andclapped her hands.
But just before dinner was ready, Edward came in and said, "Here aretroopers galloping in the forest!" Jacob went out, and observed thatthey were coming in a direction that would lead near to the cottage.
He walked in, and, after a moment's thought, he said, "My dearchildren, those men may come and search the cottage; you must do as Itell you, and mind that you are very quiet. Humphrey, you and yoursisters must go to bed, and pretend to be very ill. Edward, take offyour coat and put on this old hunting-frock of mine. You must be in thebedroom attending your sick brother and sisters. Come, Edith, dear, youmust play at going to bed, and have your dinner afterward."
Jacob took the children into the bedroom, and, removing the upperdress, which would have betrayed that they were not the children ofpoor people, put them in bed, and covered them up to the chins with theclothes. Edward had put on the old hunting-shirt, which came below hisknees, and stood with a mug of water in his hand by the bedside of thetwo girls. Jacob went to the outer room, to remove the platters laidout for dinner; and he had hardly done so when he heard the noise ofthe troopers, and soon afterward a knock at the cottage-door.
"Come in," said Jacob.
"Who are you, my friend?" said the leader of the troop, entering thedoor.
"A poor forester, sir," replied Jacob, "under great trouble."
"What trouble, my man?"
"I have the children all in bed with the small-pox."
"Nevertheless, we must search your cottage."
"You are welcome," replied Jacob; "only don't frighten the children, ifyou can help it."
The man, who was now joined by others, commenced his search. Jacobopened all the doors of the rooms, and they passed through. LittleEdith shrieked when she saw them; but Edward patted her, and told hernot to be frightened. The troopers, however, took no notice of thechildren; they searched thoroughly, and then came back to the frontroom.
"It's no use remaining here," said one of the troopers. "Shall we beoff! I'm tired and hungry with the ride."
"So am I, and there's something that smells well." said another."What's this, my good man?" continued he, taking off the lid of the pot.
"My dinner for a week," replied Jacob. "I have no one to cook for menow, and can't light a fire every day."
"Well, you appear to live well, if you have such a mess as that everyday in the week. I should like to try a spoonful or two."
"And welcome, sir," replied Jacob; "I will cook some more for myself."
The troopers took him at his word; they sat down to the table, and verysoon the whole contents of the kettle had disappeared. Having satisfiedthemselves, they got up, told him that his rations were so good thatthey hoped to call again; and, laughing heartily, they mounted theirhorses, and rode away.
"Well," said Jacob, "they are very welcome to the dinner; I littlethought to get off so cheap." As soon as they were out of sight, Jacobcalled to Edward and the children to get up again, which they soon did.Alice put on Edith's frock, Humphrey put on his jacket, and Edwardpulled off the hunting-shirt.
"They're gone now," said Jacob, coming in from the door.
"And our dinners are gone," said Humphrey, looking at the empty pot anddirty platters.
"Yes; but we can cook another, and that will be more play you know,"said Jacob. "Edward, go for the water; Humphrey, cut the onions; Alice,wash the potatoes; and Edith, help everybody, while I cut up some moremeat."
"I hope it will be as good," observed Humphrey; "that other did smellso nice!"
"Quite as good, if not better; for we shall improve by practice, and weshall have a better appetite to eat it with," said Jacob.
"Nasty men eat our dinner," said Edith. "Shan't have any more. Eat thisourselves."
And so they did as soon as it was cooked; but they were very hungrybefore they sat down.
"This is jolly!" said Humphrey with his mouth full.
"Yes, Master Humphrey. I doubt if King Charles eats so good a dinnerthis day. Mr. Edward, you are very grave and silent."
"Yes, I am, Jacob. Have I not cause? Oh, if I could but have mauledthose troopers!"
"But you could not; so you must make the best of it. They say thatevery dog has his day, and who knows but King Charles may be on thethrone again!"
There were no more visits to the cottage that day, and they all went tobed, and slept soundly.
The next morning, Jacob, who was most anxious to learn the news,saddled the pony, having first given his injunctions to Edward how tobehave in case any troopers should come to the cottage. He told him topretend that the children were in bed with the small-pox, as they haddone the day before. Jacob then traveled to Gossip Allwood's, and hethere learned that King Charles had been taken prisoner, and was at theIsle of Wight, and that the troopers were all going back to London asfast as they came. Feeling that there was now no more danger to beapprehended from them, Jacob set off as fast as he could for Lymington.He went to one shop and purchased two peasant dresses which he thoughtwould fit the two boys, and at another he bought similar apparel forthe two girls. Then, with several other ready-made articles, and someother things which were required for the household, he made a largepackage, which he put upon the pony, and, taking the bridle, set offhome, and arrived in time to superintend the cooking of the dinner,which was this day venison-steaks fried in a pan, and boiled potatoes.
When dinner was over, he opened his bundle, and told the little onesthat, now they were to live in a cottage, they ought to wear cottageclothes, and that he had bought them some to put on, which they mightrove about the woods in, and not mind tearing them. Alice and Edithwent into the bedroom, and Alice dressed Edith and herself, and cameout quite pleased with their change of dress. Humphrey and Edward puttheirs on in the sitting-room, and they all fitted pretty well, andcertainly were very becoming to the children.
"Now, recollect, you are all my grandchildren," said Jacob; "for Ishall no longer call you Miss and Master--that we never do in acottage. You understand me, Edward, of course?" added Jacob.
Edward nodded his head; and Jacob telling the children that they mightnow go out of the cottage and play, they all set off, quite delightedwith clothes which procured them their liberty.
We must now describe the cottage of Jacob Armitage, in which thechildren have in future to dwell. As we said before, it contained alarge sitting-room, or kitchen, in which was a spacious hearth andchimney, table, stools, cupboards, and dressers: the two bedrooms whichadjoined it were now appropriated, one for Jacob and the other for thetwo boys; the third, or inner bedroom, was arranged for the two girls,as being more retired and secure. But there were outhouses belonging toit: a stall, in which White Billy, the pony, lived during the winter; ashed and pigsty rudely constructed, with an inclosed yard attached tothem; and it had, moreover, a piece of ground of more than an acre,well fenced in to keep out the deer and game, the largest portion ofwhich was cultivated as a garden and potato-ground, and the other,which remained in grass, contained some fine old apple and pear-trees.Such was the domicile; the pony, a few fowls, a sow and two young pigs,and the dog Smoker, were the animals on the establishment. Here JacobArmitage had been born--for the cottage had been built by hisgrandfather--but he had not always remained at
the cottage. When young,he felt an inclination to see more of the world, and had for severalyears served in the army. His father and brother had lived in theestablishment at Arnwood, and he was constantly there as a boy Thechaplain of Arnwood had taken a fancy to him, and taught him toread--writing he had not acquired. As soon as he grew up, he served, aswe have said, in the troop commanded by Colonel Beverley's father; and,after his death, Colonel Beverley had procured him the situation offorest ranger, which had been held by his father, who was then alive,but too aged to do duty. Jacob Armitage married a good and devout youngwoman, with whom he lived several years, when she died, withoutbringing him any family; after which, his father being also dead, JacobArmitage had lived alone until the period at which we have commencedthis history.