ould find an opportunity of
speaking to Edward, which he evidently wished to do.

To inquiries made as to how he was, Edward always complained of great
weakness, for a reason which will soon be understood. Several days
elapsed, and Edward had often been out of bed during the night, when not
likely to be intruded upon, and he now felt himself strong enough to be
removed; and his object was to leave the Intendant's house without his
knowledge, so as to avoid any explanation.

One evening Pablo came over with the horses after it was dark. Oswald
put them into the stable; and the morning proving fine and clear, a
little before break of day Edward came softly downstairs with Humphrey,
and, mounting the horses, set off for the cottage, without any one in
the Intendant's house being aware of their departure.

It must not be supposed, however, that Edward took this step without
some degree of consideration as to the feelings of the Intendant. On
the contrary, he left a letter with Oswald, to be delivered after his
departure, in which he thanked the Intendant sincerely for all the
kindness and compassion he had shown towards him assured him of his
gratitude and kind feelings towards him and his daughter, but said that
circumstances had occurred of which no explanation could be given
without great pain to all parties, which rendered it advisable that he
should take such an apparently unkind step as to leave without bidding
them farewell in person; that he was about to embark immediately for the
continent, to seek his fortune in the wars; and that he wished all
prosperity to the family, which would ever have his kindest wishes and
remembrances.

"Humphrey," said Edward, after they had ridden about two miles across
the forest, and the sun had risen in an unclouded sky, "I feel like an
emancipated slave. Thank God! My sickness has cured me of all my
complaints, and all I want now is active employment. And now, Humphrey,
Chaloner and Grenville are not a little tired of being inured up in
their cottage, and I am as anxious as they are to be off. What will you
do? Will you join us, or will you remain at the cottage?"

"I have reflected upon it, Edward, and I have come to the determination
of remaining at the cottage. You will find it expensive enough to
support one where you are going, and you must appear as a Beverley
should do. We have plenty of money saved to equip you, and maintain you
well for a year or so; but afte