Part 39 (1/2)
”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.