yal, as you will see when we go back."

As soon as Oswald had done his work, he hung the quarters of the animal
on an oak-tree, and went back with Edward.

"Where did you hit him, Edward?" said Oswald, as they walked along.

"I could only see his eye through the fern, and I must have hit him
thereabouts."

On their arrival at the spot Oswald found that Edward had put the ball
right into the eye of the stag.

"Well," said he, "you made me suppose that you knew something of our
craft, but I did not believe that you were so apt as you thought
yourself to be. I now confess that you are a master, as far as I can
see, in all branches of the craft. This is, indeed, a hart royal.
Twenty-five antlers, as I live! Come, out with your knife, and let us
finish; for if we are to go to the cottage we have no time to lose. It
will be dark in half an hour." They hung all the quarters of the stag
as before, and then set off for Jacob's cottage; Edward proposing that
Oswald should take the cart and pony to carry the meat home the next
morning, and that he would accompany him to bring it back.

"That will do capitally," said Oswald; "and here we are, if I recollect
right, and I hope there is something to eat."

"No fear of that--Alice will be prepared for us," replied Edward.

Their dinner was ready for them; and Oswald praised the cooking. He was
much surprised to find that Jacob had four grandchildren. After dinner
he went into Jacob's room, and remained with him more than an hour.
During this conference Jacob confided to Oswald that the four children
were the sons and daughters of Colonel Beverley, supposed to have been
burnt in the firing of Arnwood. Oswald came out, much surprised as well
as pleased with the information, and with the confidence reposed in him.
He saluted Edward and Humphrey respectfully, and said, "I was not aware
with whom I was in company, sir, as you may well imagine; but the
knowledge of it has made my heart glad."

"Nay, Oswald," replied Edward, "remember that I am still Edward
Armitage, and that we are the grandchildren of old Jacob."

"Certainly, sir, I will, for your own sake, not forget that such is to
be supposed to be the case. I assure you I think it very fortunate that
Jacob has confided the secret to me, as it may be in my power to be
useful. I little thought that I should ever have had my dinner cooked
by a daughter of Colonel Beverley."

They then entered into a long conversation,