VI
THE OUTLAW
Everybody knew old Jasper Trent, the Crimean Veteran who had helped tobeat the "Roosians and the Proosians," and who, so it was rumored, hadmore wounds upon his worn, bent body than there were months in the year.
The whole village was proud of old Jasper, proud of his age, proud ofhis wounds, and proud of the medals that shone resplendent upon hisshrunken breast.
Any day he might have been seen hobbling along by the river, orpottering among the flowers in his little garden, but oftener stillsitting on the bench in the sunshine beside the door of the "ThreeJolly Anglers."
Indeed, they made a fitting pair, the worn old soldier and the ancientinn, alike both long behind the times, dreaming of the past, ratherthan the future; which seemed to me like an invisible bond betweenthem. Thus, when old Jasper fell ill and taking to his bed had itmoved opposite the window where he could lie with his eyes upon thebattered gables of the inn--I for one could understand the reason.
The Three Jolly Anglers is indeed ancient, its early records long sincelost beneath the dust of centuries; yet the years have but served tomellow it. Men have lived and died, nations have waxed and waned,still it stands, all unchanged beside the river, watching the GreatTragedy which we call "Life" with that same look of supreme wisdom,that half-waggish, half-kindly air, which I have already mentioned oncebefore.
I think such inns as this must extend some subtle influence upon thosewho meet regularly within their walls--these Sons of the Soil,horny-handed, and for the most part grey of head and bent with overmuch following of the plough. Quiet of voice are they, and profoundlysedate of gesture, while upon their wrinkled brows there sits thatspirit of calm content which it is given so few of us to know.
Chief among these, and held in much respect, was old Jasper Trent.Within their circle he had been wont to sit ensconced in hiselbow-chair beside the hearth, his by long use and custom, and not tobe usurped; and while the smoke rose slowly from their pipe-bowls, andthe ale foamed in tankards at their elbows, he would recount some taleof battle and sudden death--now in the freezing trenches beforeSebastopol, now upon the blood-stained heights of Inkermann. Yet, and Inoticed it was always towards the end of his second tankard, the oldman would lose the thread of his story, whatever it might be, and takeup the topic of "The Bye Jarge."
I was at first naturally perplexed as to whom he could mean, until Mr.Amos Baggett, the landlord, informed me on the quiet that the "byeJarge" was none other than old Jasper's only son--a man now some fortyyears of age--who, though promising well in his youth; had "gonewrong"--and was at that moment serving a long term of imprisonment forburglary; further, that upon the day of his son's conviction old Jasperhad had a "stroke," and was never quite the same after, allrecollection of the event being completely blotted from his mind, sothat he persisted in thinking and speaking of his son as still a boy.
"That bye were a wonder!" he would say, looking round with a kindlingeye; "went away to make 'is fortun' 'e did--oh! 'e were a gen'us werethat bye Jarge! You, Amos Baggett, were 'e a gen'us or were 'e not."
"'E were!" Mr. Baggett would answer, with a slow nod.
"Look'ee, sir, do'ee see that theer clock?"--and he would point with abony, tremulous finger--"stopped it were--got sum'mat wrong wi' itsinn'ards--wouldn't stir a finger--dead it were! But that bye Jarge 'esee it 'e did--give it a look over 'e did, an' wi' nout but 'is two'ands set it a-goin' good as ever: You, Silas Madden, you remember as'e done it wi' 'is two 'ands?"
"'Is two 'ands!" Silas would repeat solemnly.
"An' it's gone ever since!" old Jasper would croak triumphantly. "Oh!'e were a gen'us were my bye Jarge. 'Ell come a-marchin' back to 'isold feyther, some day, wi' 'is pockets stuffed full o' money an'bank-notes--I knaw--I knaw, old Jasper bean't a fule."
And herewith, lifting up his old, cracked voice, he would strike up"The British Grenadiers," in which the rest would presently join fulllustily, waving their long-stemmed pipes in unison.
So the old fellow would sit, singing the praises of his scapegrace son,while his hearers would nod solemn heads, fostering old Jasper'sinnocent delusion for the sake of his white hairs and the medals uponhis breast.
But now, he was down with "the rheumatics," and from what Lisbeth toldme when I met her on her way to and from his cottage, it was rathermore than likely that the high-backed elbow-chair would know him nomore. Upon the old fellow's illness, Lisbeth had promptly set herselfto see that he was made comfortable, for Jasper was a lonely oldman--had installed a competent nurse beside him, and made it a custommorning and evening to go and see that all was well. It was for thisreason that I sat upon the Shrubbery gate towards nine o'clock of acertain evening, swinging my legs and listening for the sound of herstep along the path. In the fulness of time she came, and getting offmy perch, I took the heavy basket from her arm, as was usual.
"Dick," she said as we walked on side by side, "really I'm gettingquite worried about that Imp."
"What has he been up to this time?" I inquired.
"I'm afraid he must be ill."
"He looked anything but ill yesterday," I answered reassuringly.
"Yes, I know he looks healthy enough," said Lisbeth, wrinkling herbrows; "but lately he has developed such an enormous appetite. Oh,Dick, it's awful!"
"My poor girl," I retorted, shaking my head, "the genus 'Boy' isdistinguished by the two attributes, dirt and appetite. You shouldknow that by this time. I myself have harrowing recollections of hugepiles of bread and butter, of vast slabs of cake--damp and 'soggy,' andof mysterious hue--of glutinous mixtures purporting to be 'stick-jaw,'one inch of which was warranted to render coherent speech impossiblefor ten minutes at least. And then the joy of bolting things fiercelyin the shade of the pantry, with one's ears on the stretch for foes! Isometimes find myself sighing over the remembrance, even in these days.Don't worry about the Imp's appetite; believe me, it is quiteunnecessary."
"Oh, but I can't help it," said Lisbeth; "it seems somehow so--soweird. For instance, this morning for breakfast he had first his usualporridge, then five pieces of bread and butter, and after that a largeslice of ham--quite a big piece, Dick! And he ate it all so quickly.I turned away to ask Jane for the toast, and when I looked at his plateagain it was empty, he had eaten every bit, and even asked for more.Of course I refused, so he tried to get Dorothy to give him hers inexchange for a broken pocket-knife. It was just the same at dinner.He ate the whole leg of a chicken, and after that a wing, and then someof the breast, and would have gone on until he had finished everything,I'm sure, if I hadn't stopped him, though I let him eat as long as Idared. Then at tea he had six slices of bread and butter, one afterthe other, not counting toast and cake. He has been like this for thelast two days--and--oh, yes, cook told me to-night that she found himactually eating dry bread just before he went up to bed. Drybread--think of it! Oh, Dick, what can be the matter with him?"
"It certainly sounds mysterious," I answered, "especially as regardsthe dry bread; but that of itself suggests a theory, which, as thedetective says in the story, 'I will not divulge just yet;' only don'tworry, Lisbeth, the Imp is all right."
Being now come to old Jasper's cottage, which stands a little apartfrom the village in a by-lane, Lisbeth paused and held out her hand forthe basket.
"Don't wait for me to-night," she said, "I ordered Peter to fetch me inthe dog-cart; you see, I may be late."
"Is the old chap so very ill?"
"Very, very ill, Dick."
"Poor old Jasper!" I exclaimed.
"Poor old Jasper!" she sighed, and her eyes were brimful of tenderness.
"He is very old and feeble," I said, drawing her close, under pretenceof handing her the basket; "and yet with your gentle hand to smooth mypillow, and your eyes to look into mine, I could almost wish--"
"Hush, Dick!"
"Peter or no Peter, I think I'll wait--unless you really wish me to say'good-night' now?" But with a dexterous turn she eluded
me, and wavingher hand hurried up the rose-bordered path.
An hour, or even two, does not seem so very long when one's mind is sofull of happy thoughts as mine was. Thus, I was filling my pipe andlooking philosophically about for a likely spot in which to keep myvigil, when I was aware of a rustling close by, and as I watched asmall figure stepped from the shadow of the hedge out into themoonlight.
"Hallo, Uncle Dick!" said a voice.
"Imp!" I exclaimed, "what does this mean? You ought to have been in bedover an hour ago!"
"So I was," he answered with his guileless smile; "only I got up again,you know."
"So it seems!" I nodded.
"An' I followed you an' Auntie Lisbeth all the way, too."
"Did you, though; by George!"
"Yes, an' I dropped one of the parcels an' lost a sausage, but younever heard."
"Lost a sausage!" I repeated, staring.
"Oh, it's all right, you know," he hastened to assure me; "I found itagain, an' it wasn't hurt a bit."
"Imp," I said sternly, "come here, I want to talk to you."
"Just a minute, Uncle Dick, while I get my parcels. I want you to helpme to carry them, please," and with the words he dived under the hedgeto emerge a moment later with his arms full of unwieldy packages, whichhe laid at my feet in a row.
"Why, what on earth have you got there, Imp?"
"This," he said, pointing to the first, "is jam an' ham an' a piece ofbread; this next one is cakes an' sardines, an' this one isbread-an'-butter that I saved from my tea."
"Quite a collection!" I nodded. "Suppose you tell me what you mean todo with them."
"Well, they're for my outlaw. You remember the other day I wanted toplay at being outlaws? Well, two days ago, as I was tracking a basecaitiff through the woods with my trusty bow and arrow, I found a realoutlaw in the old boat-house."
"Ah! and what is he like?" I inquired.
"Oh, just like an outlaw--only funny, you know, an' most awfull'hungry. Are all outlaws always so very hungry, Uncle Dick?"
"I believe they generally are, Imp. And he looks 'funny,' you say?"
"Yes; I mean his clothes are funny--all over marks like little crosses,only they aren't crosses."
"Like this?" I inquired; and picking up a piece of stick I drew abroad-arrow upon the path.
"Yes, just like that!" cried the Imp in a tone of amazement "How didyou know? You're awfull' clever, Uncle Dick!"
"And he is in the old boat-house, is he?" I said, as I picked up anarmful of packages. "'Lead on, MacDuff!'"
"Mind that parcel, please, Uncle Dick; it's the one I dropped an' lostthe sausage out of--there one trying to escape now!"
Having reduced the recalcitrant sausage to a due sense of law andorder, we proceeded toward the old boat-house--a dismal, dismantledaffair, some half mile or so downstream.
"And what sort of a fellow is your outlaw, Imp?"
"Well, I spected he'd be awfull' fierce an' want to hold me for ransom,but he didn't; he's quite quiet, for an outlaw, with grey hair and bigeyes, an' eats an awful lot."
"So you saved him your breakfast and dinner, did you?"
"Oh, yes; an' my tea, too. Auntie Lisbeth got awfull' angry 'cause shesaid I ate too fast; an' Dorothy was frightened an' wouldn't sit by me'cause she was 'fraid I'd burst--so frightfully silly of her!"
"By the way, you didn't tell me what you have there," I said, pointingto a huge, misshapen, newspaper parcel that he carried beneath one arm.
"Oh, it's a shirt, an' a coat, an' a pair of trousers of Peter's."
"Did Peter give them to you?"
"'Course not; I took them. You see, my outlaw got tired of being anoutlaw, so he asked me to get him some 'togs,' meaning clothes, youknow, so I went an' looked in the stable an' found these."
"You don't mean to say that you stole them, Imp?"
"'Course not!" he answered reproachfully. "I left Peter sixpence an' anote to say I would pay him for them when I got my pocket-money, sohelp me, Sam!"
"Ah, to be sure!" I nodded. We were close to the old boat-house now,and upon the Imp's earnest solicitations I handed over my bundles andhid behind a tree, because, as he pointed out, "his outlaw might notlike me to see him just at first."
Having opened each package with great care and laid out their contentsupon a log near by, the Imp approached the ruined building with signsof the most elaborate caution, and gave three loud, double knocks. Nowcasting my eyes about, I espied a short, heavy stick, and picking itup, poised it in my hand ready in the event of possible contingencies.
The situation was decidedly unpleasant, I confess, for I expectednothing less then to be engaged in a desperate hand-to-hand strugglewithin the next few minutes; therefore, I waited in some suspense,straining my eyes to wards the shadows with my fingers clasped tightupon my bludgeon.
Then all at once I saw a shape, ghostly and undefined, flit swiftlyfrom the gloom of the boat-house, and next moment a convict wasstanding beside the Imp, gaunt and tall and wild-looking in themoonlight. His hideous clothes, stained with mud and the green slimeof his hiding-places, hung upon him in tatters, and his eyes,deep-sunken in his pallid face, gleamed with an unnatural brightness ashe glanced swiftly about him--a miserable, hunted creature, worn byfatigue, and pinched with want and suffering.
"Did ye get 'em, sonny?" he inquired, in a hoarse, rasping voice.
"Aye, aye, comrade," returned the Imp; "all's well!"
"Bless ye for that, sonny!" he exclaimed, and with the words he fell toupon the food devouring each morsel as it was handed to him with afrightful voracity, while his burning, restless eyes glared about him,never still for a moment.
Now as I noticed his wasted form and shaking limbs, I knew that I couldmaster him with one hand. My weapon slipped from my slackened grasp,but at the sound, slight though it was, he turned and began to run. Hehad not gone five yards, however, when he tripped and fell, and beforehe could rise I was standing over him. He lay there at my feet,perfectly still, blinking up at me with red-rimmed eyes.
"All right, master," he said at last; "you've got me!" But with thewords he suddenly rolled himself towards the river, yet as he struggledto his knees I pinned him down again.
"Oh, sir! you won't go for to give me up to them?" he panted. "I'venever done you no wrong. For God's sake don't send me back to it again,sir."
"'Course not," cried the Imp, laying his hand upon my arm; "this isonly Uncle Dick. He won't hurt you, will you, Uncle Dick?"
"That depends," I answered, keeping tight hold of the tattered coatcollar. "Tell me, what brings you hanging round here?"
"Used to live up in these parts once, master."
"Who are you?"
"Convict 49, as broke jail over a week ago an' would ha' died but forthe little 'un there," and he nodded towards the Imp.
The convict, as I say, was a tall, thin fellow, with a cadaverous facelined with suffering, while the hair at his temples was prematurelywhite. And as I looked at him, it occurred to me that the sufferingwhich had set its mark so deeply upon him was not altogether thegrosser anguish of the body. Now for our criminal who can still feelmorally there is surely hope. I think so, anyhow! For a long momentthere was silence, while I stared into the haggard face below, and theImp looked from one to the other of us, utterly at a loss.
"I wonder if you ever heard tell of 'the bye Jarge,'" I said suddenly.
The convict started so violently that the jacket tore in my grasp.
"How--how did ye know--?" he gasped, and stared at me with dropped jaw.
"I think I know your father."
"My feyther," he muttered; "old Jasper--'e ain't dead, then?"
"Not yet," I answered; "come, get up and I'll tell you more while youeat." Mechanically he obeyed, sitting with his glowing eyes fixed uponmy face the while I told him of old Jasper's lapse of memory andpresent illness.
"Then 'e don't remember as I'm a thief an' convict 49, master?"
"No; he thinks and s
peaks of you always as a boy and a pattern son."
The man uttered a strange cry, and flinging himself upon his kneesburied his face in his hands.
"Come," I said, tapping him on the shoulder; "take off those things,"and nodding to the Imp, he immediately began unwrapping Peter'sgarments.
"What, master," cried the convict, starting up, "are you goin' to letme see 'im afore you give me up?"
"Yes," I nodded; "only be quick." In less than five minutes thetattered prison dress was lying in the bed of the river, and we weremaking our way along the path towards old Jasper's cottage.
The convict spoke but once, and that as we reached the cottage gate:"is he very ill, sir?"
"Very ill," I said. He stood for a moment, inhaling the fragrance ofthe roses in great breaths, and staring about him; then with an abruptgesture he opened the little gate, and gliding up the path with hisfurtive, stealthy footstep knocked at the door. For some half hour theImp and I strolled to and fro in the moonlight, during which he relatedto me much about his outlaw and the many "ruses he had employed to gethim provision." How upon one occasion, to escape the watchful eyes ofAuntie Lisbeth, he had been compelled to hide a slice of jam-tart inthe trousers-pockets, to the detriment of each; how Dorothy had watchedhim everywhere in the momentary expectation of "something happening;"how Jane and Peter and cook would stand and stare and shake their headsat him because he ate such a lot, "an' the worst of it was I was awfull' hungry all the time, you know, Uncle Dick!" This and much morehe told me as we waited there in the moonlight.
At last the cottage door opened and the convict came out. He did notjoin us at once, but remained staring away towards the river, though Isaw him jerk his sleeve across his eyes more than once in his furtive,stealthy fashion; but when at last he came up to us his face was firmand resolute.
"Did you see old Jasper?" I asked.
"Yes, sir; I saw him."
"Is he any better?"
"Much better--he died in my arms, sir. An' now I'm ready to go back,there's a police-station in the village." He stopped suddenly andturned to stare back at the lighted windows of the cottage, and when hespoke again his voice sounded hoarser than ever.
"Thought I'd come back from furrin parts, 'e did, wi' my pocketsstuffed full o' gold an' bank-notes. Called me 'is bye Jarge, 'e did!"and again he brushed his cuff across his eyes.
"Masters I don't know who ye may be, but I'm grateful to ye an' morethan grateful, sir. An' now I'm ready to go back an' finish my time."
"How much longer is that?"
"Three years, sir."
"And when you come out, what shall you do then?"
"Start all over again, sir; try to get some honest work an' livestraight."
"Do you think you can?"
"I know I can, sir. Ye see, he died in my arms, called me 'is byeJarge, said 'e were proud of me, 'e did! A man can begin again an'live straight an' square wi' a memory the like o' that to 'elp 'im."
"Then why not begin to-night?"
He passed a tremulous hand through his silver hair, and stared at mewith incredulous eyes.
"Begin-to-night!" he half whispered.
"I have an old house among the Kentish hop-gardens," I went on; "no onelives there at present except a care-taker, but it is within the boundsof probability that I may go to stay there--some day. Now the gardensneed trimming, and I'm very fond of flowers; do you suppose you couldmake the place look decent in--say, a month?"
"Sir," he said in a strange, broken voice, "you ain't jokin' with me,are you?"
"I could pay you a pound a week; what do you say?"
He tried to speak, but his lips quivered, and he turned his back uponus very suddenly. I tore a page from my pocket-book and scrawled ahasty note to my care-taker.
"Here is the address," I said, tapping him on the shoulder. "You willfind no difficulty. I will write again to-night. You must of coursehave money to get there and may need to buy a few necessaries besides;here is your first week's wages in advance," and I thrust a sovereigninto his hand. He stared down at it with blinking eyes, shufflingawkwardly with his feet, and at that moment his face seemed very worn,and lined, and his hair very grey, yet I had a feeling that I shouldnot regret my quixotic action in the end.
"Sir," he faltered, "sir, do ye mean--?" and stopped.
"I mean that to-night 'the bye Jarge' has a chance to make a newbeginning, a chance to become the man his father always thought hewould be. Of course I may be a fool to trust you. That only time willshow; but you see I had a great respect for old Jasper. And now thatyou have the address you'd better go; stay, though, you must have ahat; folks might wonder--take this," and I handed him my cap.
"Sir, I can't thank ye now, I never can. It--it won't come; but--" witha nervous, awkward gesture he caught my hand suddenly pressed it to hislips, and was gone down the lane.
Thus it was that old Jasper's "bye Jarge" went out to make a trial oflife a second time, and as I watched him striding through themoonlight, his head erect, very different to the shambling creature hehad been, it seemed to me that the felon was already ousted by the man.
"I 'specks he forgot all 'bout me!" said the Imp disconsolately.
"No," I answered, shaking my head; "I don't think he will ever forgetyou, my Imp."
"I 'spose he's awfull' fond of you, Uncle Dick?"
"Not that I know of,"
"Then why did he kiss your hand?"
"Oh, well--er--perhaps it is a way he has."
"He didn't kiss mine," said the Imp.
A door opened and closed very softly, and Lisbeth came towards us downthe path, whereupon the Imp immediately "took cover" in the ditch.
"He is dead, Dick!" she said as I opened the gate. "He died in hisson's arms--the George he was always talking about. And oh, Dick, hedied trying to sing 'The British Grenadiers."
"Poor old Jasper!" I said.
"His son was a convict once, wasn't he?"
"Yes."
"It was strange that he should come back as he did--just in time; italmost seems like the hand of Providence, doesn't it, Dick?"
"Yes." Lisbeth was standing with her elbows upon the gate and her chinin her hands, staring up at the moon, and I saw that her eyes were wetwith tears.
"Why, where is your cap?" she exclaimed when at last she condescendedto look at me.
"On the head of an escaped convict,"
I answered.
"Do you mean--"
"The 'bye Jarge,'" I nodded.
"Oh, Dick!"
"Yes, Lisbeth; it was a ridiculous piece of sentiment I admit. Yourlaw abiding, level-headed citizen would doubtless be highly shocked,not to say scandalised; likewise the Law might get up on its hind legsand kick--quite unpleasantly; but all the same, I did it."
"You were never what one might call--very 'level-headed,' were you,Dick?"
"No, I'm afraid not."
"And, do you know, I think that is the very reason why I--goodgracious!--what is that?" She pointed toward the shadow of the hedge.
"Merely the Imp," I answered; "but never mind that--tell me what youwere going to say--'the very reason why you'--what?"
"Reginald!" said Lisbeth, unheeding my question, "come here, sir!" Verysheepishly the Imp crept forth from the ditch, and coming up beside me,stole his hand into mine, and I put it in my pocket.
"Reginald?" she repeated, looking from one to the other of us with thatexpression which always renews within me the memory of my boyishmisdeeds, "why are you not asleep in bed?"
"'Cause I had to go an' feed my outlaw, Auntie Lisbeth."
"And," I put in to create a diversion, "incidentally I've discoveredthe secret of his 'enormous appetite.' It is explained in three words,to wit, 'the bye Jarge."
"Do you mean to say--" began Lisbeth.
"Fed him regularly twice a day," I went on, "and nearly famishedhimself in the doing of it--you remember the dry-bread incident?"
"Imp!" cried Lisbeth; "Imp!" And she had him next momen
t in her arms.
"But Uncle Dick gave him a whole sovereign, you know," he began; "an'--"
"I sent him to a certain house, Lisbeth," I said, as her eyes met mine;"an old house that stands not far from the village of Down, in Kent, toprune the roses and things. I should like it to be looking its bestwhen we get there; and--"
"An' my outlaw kissed Uncle Dick's hand," pursued the Imp. "Don't youthink he must love him an awful lot?"
"I gave him a month to do it in," I went on; "but a month seems muchtoo long when one comes to consider--what do you think, Lisbeth?"
"I think that I hear the wheels of the dog-cart!" she cried. Sureenough, a moment later Peter hove in view, and great was hisastonishment at sight of "Master Reginald."
"Peter," I said, "Miss Elizabeth has changed her mind, and will walkback with us; and--er--by the way, I understand that Master Reginaldpurchased a coat, a shirt, and a pair of trousers of you, for which hehas already paid a deposit of sixpence. Now, if you will let me knowtheir value--"
"That's hall right, Mr. Brent, sir. Betwixt you and me, sir, theywasn't up to much, nohow, the coat being tightish, sir--tightish--andthe trousis uncommon short in the leg for a man o' my hinches, sir."
"Nevertheless," said I, "a coat's a coat, and a pair of trousers areindubitably a pair of trousers, and nothing can alter the fact; so ifyou will send me in a bill some time I shall be glad."
"Very good, Mr. Brent, sir." Saying which Peter touched his hat andturning, drove away.
"Now," I said as I rejoined Lisbeth and the Imp, "I shall be glad ifyou will tell me how long it should take for my garden to look fairenough to welcome you?"
"Oh, well, it depends upon the gardener, and the weather, and--andheaps of things," she answered, flashing her dimple at me.
"On the contrary," I retorted, shaking my head, "it depends altogetherupon the whim of the most beautiful, tempting--"
"Supposing," sighed Lisbeth, "supposing we talk of fish!"
"You haven't been fishing lately, Uncle Dick," put in the Imp.
"I've had no cause to," I answered; "you see, I am guilty of suchthings only when life assumes a grey monotony of hue and everything isa flat, dreary desolation. Do you understand, Imp?"
"Not 'zackly--but it sounds fine! Auntie Lisbeth," he said suddenly,as we paused at the Shrubbery gate, "don't you think my outlaw must bevery, very fond of Uncle Dick to kiss his hand?"
"Why, of course he must," nodded Lisbeth.
"If," he went on thoughtfully, "if you loved somebody--very much--wouldyou kiss their hand, Auntie Lisbeth?"
"I don't know--of course not!"
"But why not--s'posing their hand was nice an' clean?"
"Oh, well--really I don't know. Imp, run along to bed; do."
"You know now that I wasn't such a pig as to eat all that food, don'tyou?" Lisbeth kissed him.
"Now be off to bed with you."
"You'll come an' tuck me up, an' kiss me good-night, won't you?"
"To be sure I will," nodded Lisbeth.
"Why, then, I'll go," said the Imp; and with a wave of the hand to mehe went.
"Dick," said Lisbeth, staring up at the moon, "it was very unwise ofyou, to say the least of it, to set a desperate criminal at large."
"I'm afraid it was, Lisbeth; but then I saw there was good in thefellow, you know, and--er--"
"Dick," she said again, and then laughed suddenly, with the dimple infull evidence; "you foolish old Dick--you know you would have done itanyway for the sake of that dying old soldier."
"Poor old Jasper!" I said; "I'm really afraid I should." Then awonderful thing happened; for as I reached out my hand to her, shecaught it suddenly in hers, and before I knew had pressed her lips uponit--and so was gone.