Edward had refused to take the pony, as Humphrey required it for the
farm-work, and the weather was so fine that he preferred walking; the
more so, as it would enable him on his return across the forest to try
for some venison, which he could not have done if he had been mounted
on Billy's back. Edward walked quick, followed by his dog, which he
had taught to keep to heel. He felt happy, as people do who have no
cares, from the fine weather--the deep green of the verdure checkered
by the flowers in bloom, and the majestic scenery which met his eye on
every side. His heart was as buoyant as his steps, as he walked along,
the light summer breeze fanning his face. His thoughts, however, which
had been more of the chase than any thing else, suddenly changed, and
he became serious. For some time he had heard no political news of
consequence, or what the Commons were doing with the king. This revery
naturally brought to his mind his father's death, the burning of his
property, and its sequestration. His cheeks colored with indignation,
and his brow was moody. Then he built castles for the future. He
imagined the king released from his prison, and leading an army
against his oppressors; he fancied himself at the head of a troop of
cavalry, charging the Parliamentary horse.
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