who was very exacting, and had a high notion of her own consequence. The other two had more than sufficient employment; as, when there is no money to pay with, every thing must be done at home. That, under such circumstances, the boys became boisterous and the little girls became romps, is not to be wondered at: but their having become so was the cause of Miss Judith seldom admitting them into her room. It is true that they were sent for once a day, to ascertain if they were in the house, or in existence, but soon dismissed and left to their own resources. Such was the neglect to which these young orphans was exposed. It must, however, be admitted, that this very neglect made them independent and bold, full of health from constant activity, and more fitted for the change which was so soon to take place.
"Benjamin," said Jacob, as the other came to the door, "I must speak with the old lady."
"Have you brought any venison, Jacob?" said Benjamin, grinning, "else, I reckon, you'll not be over welcome."
"No, I have not; but it is an important business, so send Agatha to her directly."
"I will; and I'll not say any thing about the venison."
In a few minutes, Jacob was ushered up by Agatha into Miss Judith Villiers's apartment. The old lady was about fifty years of age, very prim and starched, sitting in a high-backed chair, with her feet upon a stool, and her hands crossed before her, her black mittens reposing upon her snow-white apron.
The old forester made his obeisance.
"You have important business with us, I am told," observed Miss Judith.
"Most important, madam," replied Jacob. "In the first place, it is right that you should be informed that his majesty, King Charles, has escaped from Hampton Court."
"His majesty escaped!" replied the lady.
"Yes; and is supposed to be secreted somewhere in this neighborhood.
His majesty is not in this house, madam, I presume?"
"Jacob, his majesty is not in this house: if he were, I would suffer my tongue to be torn out sooner than I would confess it, even to you."
"But I have more for your private ear, madam."
"Agatha, retire; and Agatha, be mindful that you go down stairs, and do not remain outside the door."
Agatha, with this injunction, bounced out of the room, slamming-to the door so as to make Miss Judith start from her seat.
"Ill-mannered girl!" exclaimed Miss Judith. "Now, Jacob Armitage, you may proceed."
Jacob then entered into the detail of what he had overheard that morning, when he fell in with the troopers, concluding with the information, that the mansion would be burned down that very night. He then pointed out the necessity of immediately abandoning the house, as it would be impossible to oppose the troopers.
"And where am I to go to, Jacob?" said Miss Judith, calmly.
"I hardly know, madam; there is my cottage; it is but a poor place, and not fit for one like you."
"So I should presume, Jacob Armitage, neither shall I accept your offer. It would ill befit the dignity of a Villiers to be frightened out of her abode by a party of rude soldiers. Happen what will, I shall not stir from this—no, not even from this chair. Neither do I consider the danger so great as you suppose. Let Benjamin saddle, and be prepared to ride over to Lymington immediately. I will give him a letter to the magistrate there, who will send us protection."
"But, madam, the children can not remain here. I will not leave them here. I promised the colonel—"
"Will the children be in more danger than I shall be, Jacob Armitage?" replied the old lady, stiffly. "They dare not ill-treat me—they may force the buttery and drink the ale—they may make merry with that and the venison which you have brought with you, I presume, but they will hardly venture to insult a lady of the House of Villiers."
"I fear they will venture any thing, madam. At all events, they will frighten the children, and for one night they will be better in my cottage."
"Well, then, be it so; take them to your cottage, and take Martha to attend upon the Miss Beverleys. Go down now, and desire Agatha to come to me, and Benjamin to saddle as fast as he can."
Jacob left the room, satisfied with the permission to remove the children. He knew that it was useless to argue with Miss Judith, who was immovable when once she had declared her intentions. He was debating in his own mind whether he should acquaint the servants with the threatened danger; but he had no occasion to do so, for Agatha had remained at the door while Jacob was communicating the intelligence, and as soon as he had arrived at that portion of it by which she learned that the mansion was to be burned down that night, had run off to the kitchen to communicate the intelligence to the other servants.
"I'll not stay to be burned to death," exclaimed the cook, as Jacob came in. "Well, Mr. Armitage, this is pretty news you have brought. What does my lady say!"
"She desires that Benjamin saddles immediately, to carry a letter to Lymington; and you, Agatha, are to go up stairs to her."
"But what does she mean to do? Where are we to go?" exclaimed Agatha.
"Miss Judith intends to remain where she is."
"Then she will remain alone, for me," exclaimed the housemaid, who was admired by Benjamin. "Its bad enough to have little victuals and no wages, but as for being burned to death—Benjamin, put a pillion behind your saddle, and I'll go to Lymington with you. I won't be long in getting my bundle."
Benjamin, who was in the kitchen with the maids at the time that Jacob entered, made a sign significant of consent, and went away to the stable. Agatha went up to her mistress in a state of great perturbation, and the cook also hurried away to her bedroom.
"They'll all leave her," thought Jacob; "well, my duty is plain; I'll not leave the children in the house." Jacob then went in search of them, and found them playing in the garden. He called the two boys to him, and told them to follow him.
"Now, Mr. Edward," said he, "you must prove yourself your father's own son. We must leave this house immediately; come up with me to your rooms, and help me to pack up yours and your sisters' clothes, for we must go to my cottage this night. There is no time to be lost."
"But why, Jacob; I must know why?"
"Because the Parliamentary troopers will burn it down this night."
"Burn it down! Why, the house is mine, is it not? Who dares to burn down this house?"
"They will dare it, and will do it."
"But we will fight them, Jacob; we can bolt and bar; I can fire a gun, and hit too, as you know; then there's Benjamin and you."
"And what can you and two men do against a troop of horse, my dear boy? If we could defend the place against them, Jacob Armitage would be the first; but it is impossible, my dear boy. Recollect your sisters. Would you have them burned to death, or shot by these wretches? No, no, Mr. Edward; you must do as I say, and lose no time. Let us pack up what will be most useful, and load White Billy with the bundles; then you must all come to the cottage with me, and we will make it out how we can."
"That will be jolly!" said Humphrey; "come, Edward."
But Edward Beverley required more persuasion to abandon the house; at last, old Jacob prevailed, and the clothes were put up in bundles as fast as they could collect them.
"Your aunt said Martha was to go with your sisters, but I doubt if she will," observed Jacob, "and I think we shall have no room for her, for the cottage is small enough."
"Oh no, we don't want her," said Humphrey; "Alice always dresses Edith and herself too, ever since mamma died."
"Now we will carry down the bundles, and you make them fast on the pony while I go for your sisters."
"But where does aunt Judith go?" inquired Edward.
"She will not leave the house, Master Edward; she intends to stay and speak to the troopers."
"And so an old woman like her remains to face the enemy, while I run away from them!" replied Edward. "I will not go."
"Well,