A door opened and closed very softly, and Lisbeth came towards us down the path, whereupon the Imp immediately “took cover” in the ditch.
“He is dead, Dick!” she said as I opened the gate. “He died in his son’s arms - the George he was always talking about. And oh, Dick, he died 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; it almost seems like the hand of Providence, doesn’t it, Dick?”
“Yes.” Lisbeth was standing with her elbows upon the gate and her chin in her hands, staring up at the moon, and I saw that her eyes were wet with tears.
“Why, where is your cap ?” she exclaimed when at last she condescended to 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. Your 1aw abiding, level-headed citizen would doubtless be highly shocked, not to say scandalised; likewise the Law might get up on its hind legs and 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 - good gracious! - what is that?” She pointed toward the shadow of the hedge.
“Merely the Imp,” I answered; “but never mind that - tell me what you were going to say - ‘the very reason why you’ - what?”
“Reginald!” said Lisbeth, unheeding my question, “come here, sir!” Very sheepishly 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 that expression which always renews within me the memory of my boyish misdeeds, “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 discovered the 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 famished himself in the doing of it - you remember the dry-bread incident?”
“Imp!” cried Lisbeth; “Imp!” And she had him next moment 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, to prune the roses and things. I should like it to be looking its best when we get there; and - “
“An’ my outlaw kissed Uncle Dick’s hand,” pursued the Imp. “Don’t you think he must love him an awful lot?”
“I gave him a month to do it in,” I went on; “but a month seems much too long when one comes to consider - what do you think, Lisbeth?”
“I think that I hear the wheels of the dog-cart!” she cried. Sure enough, a moment later Peter hove in view, and great was his astonishment at sight of “Master Reginald.”
“Peter,” I said, “Miss Elizabeth has changed her mind, and will walk back with us; and - er - by the way, I understand that Master Reginald purchased a coat, a shirt, and a pair of trousers of you, for which he has already paid a deposit of sixpence. Now, if you will let me know their value - “
“That’s hall right, Mr. Brent, sir. Betwixt you and me, sir, they wasn’t up to much, nohow, the coat being tightish, sir - tightish - and the 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 are indubitably a pair of trousers, and nothing can alter the fact; so if you will send me in a bill some time I shall be glad.”
“Very good, Mr. Brent, sir.” Saying which Peter touched his hat and turning, drove away.
“Now,” I said as I rejoined Lisbeth and the Imp, “I shall be glad if you will tell me how long it should take for my garden to look fair enough to welcome you?”
“Oh, well, it depends upon the gardener, and the weather, and - and heaps of things,” she answered, flashing her dimple at me,
“On the contrary,” I retorted, shaking my head, “it depends altogether upon the whim of the most beautiful, tempting - “
