ould be
better; for a slip of the tongue before other people might create
suspicion."

The pony and cart were soon at the door, and Edward, having received
further instructions from Alice, set off for Lymington, accompanied by
Oswald.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

"Could you have found your way to Lymington?" said Oswald, as the pony
trotted along.

"Yes, I think so," replied Edward; "but I must have first gone to
Arnwood. Indeed, had I been alone, I should have done so; but we have
made a much shorter cut."

"I did not think that you would have liked to have seen the ruins of
Arnwood," replied Oswald.

"Not a day passes without my thinking of them," replied Edward. "I
should like to see them. I should like to see if any one has taken
possession of the property; for they say it is confiscated."

"I heard that it was to be; but not that it was yet," said Oswald: "but
we shall know more when we get to Lymington. I have not seen it for
more than a year. I hardly think that any one will recognise you."

"I should think not; but I care little if they do. Indeed, who is there
to know me?"

"Well, my introduction of you will save some surmises, probably; and I
shall not take you among those who may be inclined to ask questions.
See, there is the steeple; we have not more than a quarter of an hour's
drive."

As soon as they arrived at Lymington, Oswald directed the way to a small
hostelrie, to which the keepers and verderers usually resorted. In
fact, the landlord was the party who took all the venison off their
hands, and disposed of it. They drove into the yard, and, giving the
pony and cart in charge of the hostler, went into the inn, where they
found the landlord, and one or two other people, who were drinking.

"Well, Master Andrew, how fare you?" said Oswald.

"Let me see," said the corpulent landlord, throwing back his head, and
putting out his stomach, as he peered at Oswald; "why, Oswald Partridge,
as I am a born man. Where have you been this many a day?"

"In the forest, Master Andrew, where there are no few chops and
changes."

"Yes, I heard you have a sort of Parliamentary keeper, I'm told; and who
is this with you?"

"The grandson of an old friend of yours, now dead, poor old Jacob
Armitage."

"Jacob dead, poor fellow! As true as flint was Jacob Armitage, as I'm a
born man! And so he is dead! Well, we all owe heaven a death.
Foresters and landlords, as well as kings, all must die!"

"I