“You’re satisfied then, sir?” asked Graves.
“Yes, so far as my money is concerned. But there’s a graver charge against you still. Jacob Poole has informed me, and asserts it most positively, that you stole into his tent at the diggings and tried to murder him.”
“Well, did I ever!” exclaimed Juniper, holding up both his hands in amazement. “I really think, sir, that young man can’t be quite right in his head. Me try to murder him! why, I’ve never set eyes on him since the day he spoke so impertinently to me at the cottage. Me murder him! what can the poor, silly young man be thinking of. It’s all his fancy, sir; merely congestion of the brain, sir, I assure you; nothing but congestion of the brain.”
“It may be so,” replied Frank; “but here he comes himself; let us hear what he has to say on the subject.”
They both stepped out into the open air as Jacob Poole came up.
Poor Jacob, had he seen the “father of lies” himself walking with his master, he could hardly have been more astounded. He rubbed his eyes, and stared hard again at Frank and his companion, to assure himself that he was not mistaken or dreaming. No; there could be no doubt of it. Frank Oldfield was there, and Juniper Graves was as clearly there; and it was equally plain that there was more of confidence than of distrust in his master’s manner towards the robber and intended murderer. What could it all mean?
“Come here, Jacob,” said Frank. “I see you look rather aghast, and I don’t wonder; but perhaps you may find that Juniper Graves here is not quite so black as we have thought him. He acknowledges that he took my fifty pounds, but he says he never meant to keep it; and that he missed his way in looking for a doctor, and afterwards joined a party at the diggings.”
“Well, Mayster Frank?” said Jacob, with a look of strong incredulity.
“Ah, I see you don’t believe it, and I own it don’t sound very likely; but then, you see, he has given me a proof of his wish not to wrong me; for—look here, Jacob—he has returned me my fifty pounds, and wanted me to take another ten pounds, and some nuggets besides, his own hard earnings at the diggings; only, of course, I wouldn’t have them.”
“Indeed, mayster,” replied Jacob, with a dry cough of disbelief; and glancing at Juniper, who had assumed, and was endeavouring to keep up on his cunning countenance, an appearance of injured virtue.