"Is he very ill, sir?"
"Very ill," I said. He stood for a moment, inhaling the fragrance of the roses in great breaths, and staring about him; then with an abrupt gesture he opened the little gate, and gliding up the path with his furtive, stealthy footstep, he knocked at the door.
For some half-hour the Imp and I strolled to and fro in the moonlight, during which he related to me much about his outlaw and the many "ruses he had employed to get him provision." How upon one occasion, to escape the watchful eyes of Auntie Lisbeth, he had been compelled to hide a slice of jam tart in the trousers pockets, to the detriment of each; how Dorothy had watched him everywhere in the momentary expectation of "something happening"; how Jane and Peter and cook would stand and stare and shake their heads at 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 more he told me as we waited there in the moonlight.
At last the cottage door opened and the convict came out. He did not join us at once, but remained staring away towards the river, though I saw 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 firm and 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 and turned to stare back at the lighted windows of the cottage, and when he spoke again his voice sounded hoarser than ever.
"Thought I'd come back from furrin parts, 'e did, wi' my pockets stuffed full o' gold an' banknotes. Called me 'is bye Jarge, 'e did!" and again he brushed his cuff across his eyes.
"Master, I don't know who ye may be, but I'm grateful to ye an' more than grateful, sir. An' now I'm ready to go back an' finish my time."