Part 38

Being now come to old Jasper's cottage, which stands a little apart from the village in a by-lane, Lisbeth paused and held out her hand for the basket.

"Don't wait for me to-night," she said, "I ordered Peter to fetch me in the dog-cart; you see, I may be late."

"Is the old chap so very ill?"

"Very, very ill, Dick."

"Poor old Jasper!" I exclaimed.

"Poor old Jasper!" she sighed, and her eyes were brimful of tenderness.

"He is very old and feeble," I said, drawing her close, under pretence of handing her the basket; "and yet with your gentle hand to smooth my pillow, and your eyes to look into mine, I could almost wish--"

"Hush, Dick!"

"Peter or no Peter, I think I'll wait--unless you really wish me to say 'good-night' now?" But with a dexterous turn she eluded me, and waving her hand hurried up the rose-bordered path.

An hour, or even two, does not seem so very long when one's mind is so full of happy thoughts as mine was. Thus, I was filling my pipe and looking philosophically about for a likely spot in which to keep my vigil, when I was aware of a rustling close by, and as I watched a small figure stepped from the shadow of the hedge out into the moonlight.

"Hallo, Uncle Dick!" said a voice.

"Imp!" I exclaimed, "what does this mean? You ought to have been in bed over an hour ago!"

"So I was," he answered with his guileless smile; "only I got up again, you know."

"So it seems!" I nodded.

"An' I followed you an' Auntie Lisbeth all the way, too."

"Did you, though; by George!"

"Yes, an' I dropped one of the parcels an' lost a sausage, but you never heard."

"Lost a sausage!" I repeated, staring.

"Oh, it's all right, you know," he hastened to assure me; "I found it again, an' it wasn't hurt a bit."

"Imp," I said sternly, "come here, I want to talk to you."

"Just a minute, Uncle Dick, while I get my parcels. I want you to help me to carry them, please," and with the words he dived under the hedge to emerge a moment later with his arms full of unwieldy packages, which he laid at my feet in a row.

"Why, what on earth have you got there, Imp?"

"This," he said, pointing to the first, "is jam an' ham an' a piece of bread; this next one is cakes an' sardines, an' this one is bread-an'-butter that I saved from my tea."

"Quite a collection!" I nodded. "Suppose you tell me what you mean to do with them."

"Well, they're for my outlaw. You remember the other day I wanted to play at being outlaws? Well, two days ago, as I was tracking a base caitiff through the woods with my trusty bow and arrow, I found a real outlaw in the old boat-house."

"Ah! and what is he like?" I inquired.

"Oh, just like an outlaw--only funny, you know, an' most awfull' hungry. Are all outlaws always so very hungry, Uncle Dick?"

"I believe they generally are, Imp. And he looks 'funny,' you say?"