“Phew!” replied Juniper, “it’d be madness to drink cold water in the heat we’re in. Why, I’m in such a state of respiration myself, sir, that it’d be little better than courting self-destruction if I were to drink such chilly quotations.”
“Perhaps so,” replied Frank; “certainly it isn’t always safe, I believe, to drink cold water when you’re very hot; but we must be content with what we can get, and wait till we’re a little cooler.”
“I beg your pardon, sir,” said the other, in the blandest of voices; “but I’ve had the sagacity to bring with me a little flask of something as’ll air the cold water famously. Here it is, sir; you can use the cover as a cup.” He was soon at the stream and back again. “Now, sir, shall I just mix you a little? it’s really very innocent—as immaculate as a lamb. You must take it as a medicine, sir; you’ll find it an excellent stomach-ache, as the doctors say.”
“I’m more afraid of it’s giving me the heart-ache, Juniper,” replied his master; “but a very little in the water will certainly perhaps be wise. There, thank you; hold—hold—you’re helping me, I suppose, as you love me.” The cup, however, was drained, and then a second was taken before they started again; and twice more before they reached home they halted, and Juniper’s flask was produced and emptied before they finally remounted.
“I have him,” chuckled Graves to himself. “I’ve hooked my trout; and he only wants a little playing, and I’ll have him fairly landed.”
Alas! it was too true. Frank was in skilful hands; for Juniper had a double object: he wanted to indulge his own appetite for the drink at his master’s expense; and he also wanted to get into his clutches such a sum of money as would enable him to make a fair start at the diggings on the Melbourne side of the Australian continent. His friend of the cottage, through whom he obtained his supply of spirits, was well acquainted with many of the returned diggers, and gave him full information on all subjects about which he inquired connected with the gold-digging. His object in the first place was to get as much of his master’s money into his own possession as he could do without direct robbery; his next object was to keep his master out of every one else’s clutches but his own. So he laid himself out in every way to keep Frank amused and occupied, and to leave him as little time as possible for reflection. The spirit-bottle was never allowed to be empty or out of the way; Juniper could produce it at a moment’s notice. He took care to do so with special dexterity whenever he could engage his master in a game of cards. Juniper was an accomplished gambler; he had often played with his young master when they were out alone on fishing or shooting expeditions at Greymoor Park. Frank used then to lose money to him in play occasionally, but Juniper was always wily enough not to push his advantage too far—he never would allow himself to win more than small sums. But now he had a different purpose on hand; and so, from time to time, he would draw on his master to play for hours together, keeping the drink going all the while, and managing himself to preserve a sufficient sobriety to prevent his losing his self-possession and defeating his end in view. Thus, by degrees, Frank found his money melting fast and faster away. If he complained of this to Juniper, that worthy either assured him he was mistaken, or that the money had only gone to defray the necessary expenses of the establishment; or else he laughed, and said, “Well, sir, you didn’t play as well as usual last night. I suppose your luck was bad, or your head wasn’t very clear. You lost more than usual, but you’ll win it all back; and, after all, I should never think of keeping it if you’re really in want of it at any time.”
“Juniper, you’re a good fellow,” said his poor miserable dupe; “you mean well—I know you do. I’m sure you wouldn’t deceive or rob me.”
“Me deceive! me rob, Mr Frank! No indeed, sir; I hope I’ve too much duplicity to do anything of the kind. Why, didn’t I come out here just because I’d such a hampering after you, Mr Frank? No; I trust, indeed, that you’ll never ascertain such hard thoughts of me for a moment.”
“Never fear,” was his master’s reply; “I believe you love me too well, Juniper, to wrong me.”
But there was one who did not think so. Hubert Oliphant had discovered, with dismay, that Frank’s new servant was none other than the reprobate groom of Greymoor Park. He had called as soon as he heard of it, and implored his friend to dismiss Graves from his service. But Frank would not hear of such a thing. He dwelt on his old servant’s affection, self-sacrifice, and devotion to himself; he palliated his faults, and magnified his virtues; so that poor Hubert had to retire baffled and heart-sick. There remained but one other effort to be made, and that was through Jacob Poole, who was informed by Hubert of Juniper’s character. Jacob did not decline the duty, though the service was both a difficult and delicate one; for there was a decision and simple earnestness about his character which made him go forward, without shrinking, to undertake whatever he was persuaded he was rightly called upon to do.