"But what makes you have such an affection for that sword?"
"Affection for it?"
"Yes; as I came into the room you kissed it as fervently as-"
"As a lover would his mistress, I presume you would say," replied Edward.
"Nay, I meant not to use such vain words. I was about to say, as a devout Catholic would a relic. I ask you again, Why so? A sword is but a sword. You are about to leave this on a mission of my father"s. You are not a soldier, about to engage in strife and war; if you were, why kiss your sword?"
"I will tell you. I do love this sword. I purchased it, as I told you, at Lymington, and they told me that it belonged to Colonel Beverley. It is for his sake that I love it. You know what obligations our family were under to him."
"This sword was then wielded by Colonel Beverley, the celebrated Cavalier, was it?" said Patience, taking it off the bed, and examining it.
"Yes, it was; and here, you see, are his initials upon the hilt."
"And why do you take it to London with you? Surely it is not the weapon which should be worn by a secretary, Edward; it is too large and c.u.mbrous, and out of character."
"Recollect, that till these last few months I have been a forester, Patience, and not a secretary. Indeed, I feel that I am more fit for active life than the situation which your father"s kindness has bestowed upon me. I was brought up, as you have heard, to follow to the wars, had my patron lived."
Patience made no reply. Clara now joined them, and they commenced the task of examining the linen; and Edward left the room, as he wished to speak with Oswald. They did not meet again till dinner time. Edward"s sudden departure had spread a gloom over them all-even the intendant was silent and thoughtful. In the evening he gave Edward the letters which he had written, and a considerable sum of money, telling him where he was to apply if he required more for his expenses. The intendant cautioned him on his behavior in many points, and also relative to his dress and carriage during his stay in the metropolis.
"If you should leave London, there will be no occasion-nay, it would be dangerous to write to me. I shall take it for granted that you will retain Sampson till your departure, and when he returns here I shall presume that you have gone north. I will not detain you longer, Edward: may Heaven bless and protect you!"
So saying, the intendant went away to his own room.
"Kind and generous man!" thought Edward; "how much did I mistake you when we first met!"
Taking up the letters and bag of money, which still remained on the table, Edward went to his room, and having placed the letters and money in the saddle-bag, he commended himself to the Divine Protector, and retired to rest.
Before daylight, the sound of Sampson"s heavy traveling-boots below roused up Edward, and he was soon dressed. Taking his saddle-bags on his arm, he walked softly down stairs, that he might not disturb any of the family; but when he was pa.s.sing the sitting-room, he perceived that there was a light in it, and, on looking in, that Patience was up and dressed. Edward looked surprised, and was about to speak, when Patience said-
"I rose early, Edward, because, when I took leave of you last night, I forgot a little parcel that I wanted to give you before you went. It will not take much room, and may beguile a weary hour. It is a little book of meditations. Will you accept it, and promise me to read it when you have time?"
"I certainly will, my dear Patience-if I may venture on the expression-read it, and think of you."
"Nay, you must read it, and think of what it contains," replied Patience.
"I will, then. I shall not need the book to remind me of Patience Heatherstone, I a.s.sure you."
"And now, Edward, I do not pretend to surmise the reason of your departure, nor would it be becoming in me to attempt to discover what my father thinks proper to be silent upon; but I must beg you to promise one thing."
"Name it, dear Patience," replied Edward; "my heart is so full at the thought of leaving you, that I feel I can refuse you nothing."
"It is this: I have a presentiment, I know not why, that you are about to encounter danger. If so, be prudent-be prudent for the sake of your dear sisters-be prudent for the sake of all your friends, who would regret you-promise me that."
"I do promise you, most faithfully, Patience, that I will ever have my sisters and you in my thoughts, and will not be rash under any circ.u.mstances."
"Thank you, Edward; may G.o.d bless you and preserve you!"
Edward first kissed Patience"s hand, that was held in his own; but, perceiving the tears starting in her eyes, he kissed them off, without any remonstrance on her part, and then left the room. In a few moments more he was mounted on a fine, powerful black horse, and, followed by Sampson, on his road to London.
We will pa.s.s over the journey, which was accomplished without any event worthy of remark. Edward had, from the commencement, called Sampson to his side, that he might answer the questions he had to make upon all that he saw, and which, the reader must be aware, was quite new to one whose peregrinations had been confined to the New Forest and the town adjacent. Sampson was a very powerful man, of a cool and silent character, by no means deficient in intelligence, and trustworthy withal. He had long been a follower of the intendant, and had served in the army. He was very devout, and generally, when not addressed, was singing hymns in a low voice.
On the evening of the second day, they were close to the metropolis, and Sampson pointed out to Edward St. Paul"s Cathedral and Westminster Abbey, and other objects worthy of note.
"And where are we to lodge, Sampson?" inquired Edward.
"The best hotel that I know of for man and beast is the "Swan with Three Necks," in Holborn. It is not over-frequented by roisterers, and you will there be quiet, and, if your affairs demand it, un.o.bserved."
"That will suit me, Sampson: I wish to observe and not be observed, during my stay in London."
Before dark they had arrived at the hotel, and the horses were in the stable. Edward had procured an apartment to his satisfaction, and, feeling fatigued with his two days" traveling, had gone to bed.
The following morning he examined the letters which had been given to him by the intendant, and inquired of Sampson if he could direct him on his way. Sampson knew London well; and Edward set out to Spring Gardens, to deliver a letter, which the intendant informed him was confidential, to a person of the name of Langton. Edward knocked and was ushered in, Sampson taking a seat in the hall, while Edward was shown into a handsomely-furnished library, where he found himself in the presence of a tall, spare man, dressed after the fashion of the Roundheads of the time. He presented the letter. Mr. Langton bowed, and requested Edward to sit down; and, after Edward had taken a chair, he then seated himself and opened the letter.
"You are right welcome, Master Armitage," said Mr. Langton; "I find that, young as you appear to be, you are in the whole confidence of our mutual friend, Master Heatherstone. He hints at your being probably obliged to take a journey to the north, and that you will be glad to take charge of any letters which I may have to send in that direction. I will have them ready for you; and, in case of need, they will be such as will give a coloring to your proceeding, provided you may not choose to reveal your true object. How wears our good friend Heatherstone and his daughter?"
"Quite well, sir."
"And he told me in one of his former letters that he had the daughter of our poor friend Ratcliffe with him. Is it not so?"
"It is, Master Langton; and a gentle, pretty child as you would wish to see."
"When did you arrive in London?"
"Yesterday evening, sir."
"And do you purpose any stay?"
"That I can not answer, sir; I must be guided by your advice. I have naught to do here, unless it be to deliver some three or four letters, given me by Mr. Heatherstone."
"It is my opinion, Master Armitage, that the less you are seen in this city the better; there are hundreds employed to find out new-comers, and to discover, from their people, or by other means, for what purpose they may have come; for you must be aware, Master Armitage, that the times are dangerous, and people"s minds are various. In attempting to free ourselves from what we considered despotism, we have created for ourselves a worse despotism, and one that is less endurable. It is to be hoped that what has pa.s.sed will make not only kings but subjects wiser than they have been. Now, what do you propose-to leave this instantly?"
"Certainly, if you think it advisable."
"My advice, then, is to leave London immediately. I will give you letters to some friends of mine in Lancashire and Yorkshire; in either county you can remain unnoticed, and make what preparations you think necessary. But do nothing in haste-consult well, and be guided by them, who will, if it is considered advisable and prudent, join with you in your project. I need say no more. Call upon me to-morrow morning, an hour before noon, and I will have letters ready for you."
Edward rose to depart, and thanked Mr. Langton for his kindness.
"Farewell, Master Armitage," said Langton; "to-morrow, at the eleventh hour!"
Edward then quitted the house, and delivered the other letters of credence; the only one of importance at the moment was the one of credit; the others were to various members of the Parliament, desiring them to know Master Armitage as a confidential friend of the intendant, and, in case of need, to exert their good offices in his behalf. The letter of credit was upon a Hamburgh merchant, who asked Edward if he required money. Edward replied that he did not at present, but that he had business to do for his employer in the north, and might require some when there, if it was possible to obtain it so far from London.
"When do you set out, and to what town do you go?"
"That I can not well tell until to-morrow."
"Call before you leave this, and I will find some means of providing for you as you wish."
Edward then returned to the hotel. Before he went to bed, he told Sampson that he found that he had to leave London on Mr. Heatherstone"s affairs, and might be absent some time; he concluded by observing that he did not consider it necessary to take him with him, as he could dispense with his services, and Mr. Heatherstone would be glad to have him back.
"As you wish, sir," replied Sampson. "When am I to go back?"