The Children of the New Forest

by Frederick Marryat

The intendant remained silent for some time, and then said,

"There is no cause for further concealment, Patience; I have only to regret that I was not more explicit sooner. I have long suspected, and have since been satisfied, that Edward Armitage is Edward Beverley, who with his brothers and sisters were supposed to have been burned to death at Arnwood."

Patience removed her handkerchief from her face, and looked at her father with astonishment.

"I tell you that I had a strong suspicion of it, my dear child, first, from the noble appearance, which no forest garb could disguise; but what gave me further conviction was, that when at Lymington I happened to fall in with one Benjamin, who had been a servant at Arnwood, and interrogated him closely. He really believed that the children were burned; it is true that I asked him particularly relative to the appearance of the children—how many were boys, and how many were girls, their ages, &c.—but the strongest proof was, that the names of the four children corresponded with the names of the Children of the Forest, as well as their ages, and I went to the church register and extracted them. Now this was almost amounting to proof; for it was not likely that four children in the forest cottage should have the same ages and names as those of Arnwood. After I had ascertained this point, I engaged Edward, as you know, wishing to secure him, for I was once acquainted with his father, and at all events well acquainted with the colonel's merits. You remained in the house together, and it was with pleasure that I watched the intimacy between you; and then I exerted myself to get Arnwood restored to him. I could not ask it for him, but I prevented it being given to any other by laying claim to it myself. Had Edward remained with us, all might have succeeded as I wished; but he would join in the unfortunate insurrection. I knew it was useless to prevent him, so I let him go. I found that he took the name of Beverley during the time he was with the king's army, and when I was last in town I was told so by the commissioners, who wondered where he had come from; but the effect was that it was now useless for me to request the estate for him, as I had wished to do—his having served in the royal army rendered it impossible. I therefore claimed it for myself, and succeeded. I had made up my mind that he was attached to you, and you were equally so to him; and as soon as I had the grant sent down, which was on the evening he addressed you, I made known to him that the property was given to me; and I added, on some dry questions being put to me by him, relative to the possibility of there being still existing an heir to the estate, that there was no chance of that, and that you would be the mistress of Arnwood. I threw it out as a hint to him, fancying that, as far as you were concerned, all would go well, and that I would explain to him my knowledge of who he was, after he had made known his regard for you."

"Yes, I see it all now," replied Patience; "in one hour he is rejected by me, and in the next he is told that I have obtained possession of his property. No wonder that he is indignant, and looks upon us with scorn. And now he has left us; we have driven him into danger, and may never see him again. Oh, father! I am very, very miserable!"

"We must hope for the best, Patience. It is true that he has gone to the wars, but it does not therefore follow that he is to be killed. You are both very young—much too young to marry—and all may be explained. I must see Humphrey and be candid with him.".

"But Alice and Edith—where are they gone, father?"

"That I can inform you. I have a letter from Langton on the subject, for I begged him to find out. He says that there are two young ladies of the name of Beverley, who have been placed under the charge of his friends, the Ladies Conynghame, who is aunt to Major Chaloner, who has been for some time concealed in the forest. But I have letters to write, my dear Patience. To-morrow, if I live and do well, I will ride over to the cottage to see Humphrey Beverley."

The intendant kissed his daughter, and she left the room.

Poor Patience! she was glad to be left to herself, and think over this strange communication. For many days she had felt how fond she had been of Edward, much more so than she had believed herself to be. "And now," she thought, "if he really loves me, and hears my father's explanation, he will come back again." By degrees she recovered her serenity, and employed herself in her quiet domestic duties.