Roger laughed. "Poor old grandfather!" he said. "He's dead and gone this year past. Well, thank you, sir, I shall be glad to have a roof over me."
But when Sparling shyly offered him a bite of bread and cheese, he refused, and lay down at once, rolled up in a blanket. And if hunger is the best sauce, fatigue is the best sleeping draught; so Roger slept soundly.
[CHAPTER II.]
THE BEST CHANCE OF ALL.
WHEN Roger awoke the next morning, he found Jack Sparling engaged in his morning ablutions, which were of a rather noisy and vigorous nature. He was offered "a loan of the tub," and gladly accepted it. When he was washed and dressed, he looked round for Sparling, and saw him kneeling beside his low bed, his face hidden in his hands, his whole person perfectly still. Thus reminded of his prayers, Roger knelt down too and said them, watching Sparling all the time. The latter, his prayers finished (Sparling did not merely say his prayers), stood up and opened a little-box which lay on a shelf over his bed. He took out what Roger could see was a picture of some sort, and having looked at it for a few moments, he muttered "My lass!" in his gruffest tones, put the picture into the box, and locked it up. Roger jumped up and went over to the window.
"Another fine cold day," said he. "Well, sir, I'm very much obliged to you, and I shall see you again at dinner time."
"Sleep here till you get good work," said Sparling. "You ain't in my way a bit, and it'll be better for you than sleeping out in such weather."
"Thank you, sir, you're really very kind. If you don't think the people the house belongs too will mind, I am very glad to take your offer."
"No danger. I'm off," said Sparling. Roger followed him down stairs, and Sparling went into the Averys room and said,—
"Tom, ye wouldn't miss what that lad would eat."