He was not two miles from that property
which by right was his own. His own mansion had been reduced to ashes
--he himself was hidden in the forest; and he could but not feel his
position. He sighed for the time when the king's cause should be again
triumphant, and his arrival at that age when he could in person
support and uphold the cause. He longed to be in command, as his
father had been--to lead his men on to victory--to recover his
property, and to revenge himself on those who had acted so cruelly
toward him. This was human nature; and much as Jacob Armitage would
expostulate with him, and try to divert his feelings into other
channels--long as he would preach to him about forgiveness of
injuries, and patience until better times should come, Edward could
not help brooding over these thoughts, and if ever there was a breast
animated with intense hatred against the Puritans, it was that of
Edward Beverley. Although this was to be lamented, it could not create
surprise or wonder in the old forester. All he could do was, as much
as possible to reason with him, to soothe his irritated feelings, and
by constant employment try to make him forget for a time the feelings
of ill-will which he had conceived.
One thing was, however, sufficiently plain to Edward, which was, that
whatever might be his wrongs, he had not the power at present to
redress them; and this feeling, perhaps, more than any other, held him
in some sort of check; and as the time when he might have an
opportunity appeared far distant, even to his own sanguine
imagination, so by degrees did he contrive to dismiss from his
thoughts what it was no use to think about at present.
Pages:
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68