CHAPTER XIII.--JASPER TO THE RESCUE.
The next evening, at the hour which she had named, Jasper walked downthe road which led to The Priory. She walked with a confident step; shehad very little doubt that Sylvia would be waiting for her. She was notfar wrong in her expectations. A girl, wrapped in a cloak, was standingby a hedge. By the girl stood the mastiff Pilot. Pilot was not too wellfed, but he was better fed than Sylvia. It was necessary, according toMr. Leeson's ideas, that Pilot should be strong enough to guard ThePriory against thieves, against unwelcome, prying visitors--against thewhole of the human race. But even Pilot could be caught by guile, andSylvia was determined that he should be friends with Jasper. As Jaspercame up the road Sylvia advanced a step or two to meet her.
"Well, dear," said Jasper in a cheerful tone, "am I to come in, and am Ito be welcome?"
"You are to come in," said Sylvia. "I have made up my mind. I have beenpreparing your room all day. If he finds it out I dare not think whatwill happen. But come--do come; I am ready and waiting for you."
"I thought you would be. I can fetch the rest of my things to-morrow.Can we slip into my room now?"
"We can. Come at once.--Pilot, remember that this lady is our friend.--Onemoment, please, Jasper; I must be quite certain that Pilot does not doyou an injury.--Pilot, give your right paw to this lady."
Pilot looked anxiously from Jasper to Sylvia; then, with a deliberatemovement, and a great expression of condescension on his face, he didextend his right paw. Jasper took it.
"Kiss him now just between his eyes," said Sylvia.
"Good gracious, child! I never kissed a dog in my life."
"Kiss him as you value your future safety. You surely do not want to bea prisoner at The Priory!"
"Heaven forbid!" said Jasper. "What I want to do, and what I mean to do,is to parade before her ladyship just where her ladyship cannot touchme. She could turn me out of every house in the place, but not fromhere. I do not want to keep it any secret from her ladyship that I amstaying with you, Miss Sylvia."
"We can talk of that afterwards," said Sylvia. "Come into the housenow."
The two turned, the dog accompanying them. They passed through the heavyiron gates and walked softly up the avenue.
"What a close, dismal sort of place!" said Jasper.
"Please--please do not speak so loud; father may overhear us."
"Then mum's the word," said the woman.
"Step on the grass here, please."
Jasper did exactly as Sylvia directed her, and the result was that soonthe two found themselves in as empty a kitchen as Jasper had ever beheldin the whole course of her life.
"Sakes, child!" she cried, "is this where you cook your meals?"
"The kitchen does quite well enough for our requirements," said Sylviain a low tone.
"And where are you going to put me?"
"In this room. I think in the happy days when the house was full thisroom must have been used as the servants' hall. See, there is a nicefireplace, with a good fire in it. I have drawn down the blinds, and Ihave put thick curtains--the only thick curtains we possess--across thewindows. There are shutters too. If my father does walk abroad he cannotsee any light through this window. But I am sorry to say you can have afire only at night, for he would be very angry if he saw the smokeascending in the daytime."
"Hard lines! But I suppose, as I made the offer, I must abide by it,"said Jasper. "The room looks bare but well enough. It is clean, Isuppose?"
"It is about as clean as I can make it," said Sylvia, with a drearysigh.
"As clean as you can make it? Have you not a servant, my dear?"
"Oh no; we do not keep a servant."
"Then I expect my work is cut out for me," said Jasper, who wasthoroughly good-natured, and had taken an immense fancy to Sylvia.
"Please," said the girl earnestly, "you must not attempt to make theplace look the least bit better; if you do, father will find out, andthen----"
"Find out!" said Jasper. "If I were you, you poor little thing, I wouldlet him. But there! I am in, and possession is everything. I havebrought my supper with me, and I thought maybe you would not mindsharing it. I have it in this basket. This basket contains what Irequire for the night and our supper as well. I pay you twenty shillingsa week, and buy my own coals, so I suppose at night at least I may havea big fire."
Here Jasper went to a large, old-fashioned wooden hod, and taking biglumps of coal, put them on the fire. It blazed right merrily, and theheat filled the room. Sylvia stole close to it and stretched out herthin, white hands for the warmth.
"How delicious!" she said.
"You poor girl! Can you spend the rest of the evening with me?"
"I must go to father. But, do you know, he has prohibited anything butbread for supper."
"What!"
"He does not want it himself, and he says that I can do with bread. Oh,I could if there were enough bread!"
"You poor, poor child! Why, it was Providence which sent me all the wayfrom Tasmania to make you comfortable and to save the bit of life inyour body."
"Oh, I cannot--I cannot!" said Sylvia. Her composure gave way; she sankinto a chair and burst into tears.
"You cannot what, you poor child?"
"Take everything from you. I--I am a lady. In reality we are rich--yes,quite rich--only father has a craze, and he won't spend money. He hoardsinstead of spending. It began in mother's lifetime, and he has got worseand worse and worse. They say it is in the family, and his father hadit, and his father before him. When father was young he was extravagant,and people thought that he would never inherit the craze of a miser; butit has grown with his middle life, and if mother were alive now shewould not know him."
"And you are the sufferer, you poor lamb!"
"Yes; I get very hungry at times."
"But, my dear, with twenty shillings a week you need not be hungry."
"Oh no. I cannot realize it. But I have to be careful; father must notsee any difference."
"We will have our meals here," said Jasper.
"But we must not light a fire by day," said the girl.
"Never mind; I can manage. Are there not such things as spirit-lamps? Ohyes, I am a born cook. Now then, go away, my dear; have your meal ofbread with your father, say good-night to him, and then slip back tome."
Sylvia ran off almost joyfully. In about an hour she returned. Duringthat time Jasper had contrived to make a considerable change in theroom. The warmth of the fire filled every corner now the thick curtainsat the window looked almost cheerful; the heavy door tightly shutallowed no cold air to penetrate. On the little table she had spread awhite cloth, and now that table was graced by a great jug of steamingchocolate, a loaf of crisp white bread, and a little pat of butter; andbesides these things there were a small tongue and a tiny pot of jam.
"Things look better, don't they?" said Jasper. "And now, my dearie, youshall not only eat in this room, but you shall sleep in that warm bed inwhich I have just put my own favorite hot-water bag."
"But you--you?" said Sylvia.
"I either lie down by your side or I stay in the chair by the fire. I amgoing to warm you up and pet you, for you need it, you poor, bravelittle girl!"