; and a cart for the luggage followed at some distance. Edward went
out to assist Miss Heatherstone to dismount, and she frankly extended
her hand to him as she reached the ground. Edward was a little
surprised as well as pleased at this condescension on her part towards a
forester.

"You do me much honour, Mistress Patience," said he, bowing.

"I cannot forget that I owe my life to you, Master Armitage," replied
Patience, "and I cannot be too grateful. May I request another favour
of you?"

"Certainly, if it is in my power to do as you wish."

"It is this," said she, in a low voice: "that you will not hastily
reject any overtures which may be made to you by my father; that is all.
And now let me go in and see your sisters, for my father has praised
them very much, and I wish to know them."

Edward led the way into the cottage, and Patience followed him, while
the intendant was in conversation with Humphrey. Edward, having
introduced his sisters and Clara, then went out to pay his respects to
the Intendant, who, now they were alone, was very candid towards both
him and Humphrey.

Edward then told the Intendant that there was an iron chest with a good
deal of money in it, and jewels also, and many other articles of value
in the other boxes.

"I fear, sir, that the cart will hardly hold all the goods."

"I do not intend to take away the heavy or more bulky articles, such as
the bedding, armour, etc. I will only take Clara's own packages, and
the valuables and papers. The remainder may stay here, as they can be
of no use, till they are demanded from you. Where is Oswald Partridge?"

"In the stable with the horses, sir," replied Humphrey.

"Then, when the cart is loaded--and it had better be done by you while
the men are in the stable--Oswald shall take charge of it, and take the
things to my house."

"Here are the keys, sir," said Edward, presenting them.

"Good. And now, Edward Armitage, that we are alone, I want to have a
little conversation with you. You are aware how much I feel indebted to
you for the service you have rendered me, and how anxious I am to show
my gratitude. You are born for better things than to remain an obscure
forester, and perhaps a deer-stalker. I have now an offer to make to
you, which I trust, upon reflection, you will not refuse--and I say
reflection, because I do not wish you to give an answer till you have
well reflected. I know that you will not accept anything unde