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house, and filling the rack with hay, returned to the house and seated himself at a porch which was at the door which led to the back premises, for the keeper's house was large and commodious. Edward was in deep thought, when he was roused by the little girl, the daughter of the newly appointed intendant of the forest, who said:
"I am afraid, young Sir, you have had but sorry welcome in the kitchen, as there was no one to receive you. I was not aware that Phœbe had gone out. If you will come with me, I may perhaps find you refreshment."
"Thanks, maiden, you are kind and considerate to an avowed poacher," replied Edward.
"Oh, but you will not poach, I'm sure; and if you do, I'll beg you off if I can," replied the girl, laughing.
Edward followed her into the kitchen, and she soon produced a cold fowl and a venison pasty, which she placed on the table; she then went out and returned with a jug of ale.
"There," said she, putting it on the table, "that is all that I can find."
"Your father's name is Heatherstone, I believe. It was so on the warrant."
"Yes, it is."
"And yours?"
"The same as my father's, I should presume."
"Yes, but your baptismal name?"
"You ask strange questions, young Sir; but still I will answer you that: my baptismal name is Patience."
I thank you for your condescension," replied Edward. "You live here?"
"For the present, good Sir; and now I leave you."
"That's a nice little girl," thought Edward, "although she is the daughter of a Roundhead; and she calls me 'Sir.' I cannot, therefore, look like Jacob's grandson, and must be careful."
