Well, this is a kind of preparation
for the wholesale murder and horrors of the battlefield, which I have
so long sighed for: God forgive me if I am wrong! And this poor boy! I
have promised to protect him, and I will. Could I fail my promise, I
should imaging the spirit of his father (as I presume he was) looking
down and upbraiding me. No, no, I will protect him. I and my brother
and sisters have been preserved and protected, and I were indeed vile
if I did not do to others as I have been done by. And now let me
reflect what is to be done. I must not take the boy away, and bury the
bodies; this person has friends at Lymington, and they will come here.
The murder has taken place in the forest: then I must let the
intendant know what has occurred. I will send over to Oswald; Humphrey
shall go. Poor fellow! what a state of anxiety must he and my little
sisters be in, at my not returning home! I had quite forgotten that,
but it can not be helped. I will wait till sunrise, and then see if
the boy will be more himself, and probably from him I shall be able to
find out what part of the forest I am in."
Edward took up the candle and went into the room in which he had laid
the boy on the bed. He found him in a sound sleep. "Poor fellow," said
Edward, "he has for a time forgotten his misery.
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