‘You have spent the money, you have spent it yourself!’ cried Mr. Jordan wildly.
‘If I had done this, should I have come to you to-day with this confession? I had the money in the pocket-book in notes. The notes were abstracted from the book. As I was so long insensible, it was too late to stop them at the bank. Whoever took them had time to change them all.’
‘Cursed be the day I lent the money,’ moaned Ignatius Jordan. ‘The empty, worthless case returns, the precious contents are gone. What is the shell without the kernel? My Eve, my Eve!’ He clasped his hands over his brow.
‘And now once more hearken to me,’ pursued Jasper. ‘My father cannot immediately find the money that he owes you. He does not know of this second loss. I have not communicated with him since I met with my accident. The blame attaches to me. I must do what I can to make amends for my carelessness. I put myself into your hands. To repay you now, my father would have to sell the land he bought. I do not think he could be persuaded to do this, though, perhaps, you might be able to force him to it. However, as you say the money is for your daughter, will you allow it to lie where it is for a while? I will undertake, should it come to me after my father’s death, to sell it or transfer it, so as to make up to Miss Eve at the rate of five per cent. on the loan. I will do more. If you will consent to this, I will stay here and work for you. I have been trained in the country, and know about a farm. I will act as your foreman, overlooker, or bailiff. I will put my hand to anything. Reckon what my wage would be. Reckon at the end of a year whether I have not earned my wage and much more. If you like, I will work for you as long as my father lives; I will serve you now faithfully as no hired bailiff would serve you. My presence here will be a guarantee to you that I will be true to my undertaking to repay the whole sum with interest. I can see that this estate needs an active man on it; and you, sir, are too advanced in age, and too much given up to scientific pursuits, to cope with what is required.’
Those words, ‘scientific pursuits,’ softened Mr. Jordan. Jasper spoke in good faith; he had no idea how worthless those pursuits were, how little true science entered into them. He knew that Mr. Jordan made mineralogical studies, and he supposed they were well directed.
‘Order me to do what you will,’ said Jasper, ‘and I will do it, and will double your gains in the year.’
‘I accept,’ said Ignatius Jordan. ‘There is no help for it. I must accept or be plundered of all.’
‘You accept! let us join hands on the bargain.’
It was strange; as once before, seventeen years ago, hands had met in the golden gleam of sun that shot through the window, ratifying a contract, so was it now. The hands clasped in the sunbeam, and the reflected light from their illuminated hands smote up into the faces of the two men, both pale, one with years and care, the other with sickness.
Mr. Jordan withdrew his hand, clasped both palms over his face and wept. ‘Thus it comes,’ he said. ‘The shadow is on me and on my child. One sorrow follows another.’
At that moment Barbara and Eve entered from the court.
‘Eve! Eve!’ cried the father excitedly, ‘come to me, my angel! my ill-treated child! my martyr!’ He caught her to his heart, put his face on her shoulder, and sobbed. ‘My darling, you have had your money stolen, the money put away for you when you were in the cradle.’
‘Who has stolen it, papa?’ asked Barbara.
‘Look there!’ he cried; ‘Jasper Babb was bringing me the money, and when he fell from his horse, it was stolen.’
Neither Barbara nor Eve spoke.
‘Now,’ continued Mr. Jordan, ‘he has offered himself as my hind to look after the farm for me, and promises, if I give him time——’
‘Father, you have refused!’ interrupted Barbara.
‘On the contrary, I have accepted.’
‘It cannot, it must not be!’ exclaimed Barbara vehemently. ‘Father, you do not know what you have done.’
‘This is strange language to be addressed by a child to a father,’ said Mr. Jordan in a tone of irritation. ‘Was there ever so unreasonable a girl before? This morning you pressed me to engage a bailiff, and now that Mr. Jasper Babb has volunteered, and I have accepted him, you turn round and won’t have him.’
‘No,’ she said, with quick-drawn breath, ‘I will not. Take anyone but him. I entreat you, papa. If you have any regard for my opinion, let him go. For pity’s sake do not allow him to remain here!’
‘I have accepted him,’ said her father coldly. ‘Pray what weighty reasons have you got to induce me to alter my resolve?’
Miss Jordan stood thinking; the colour mounted to her forehead, then her brows contracted. ‘I have none to give,’ she said in a low tone, greatly confused, with her eyes on the ground. Then, in a moment, she recovered her self-possession and looked Jasper full in the face, but without speaking, steadily, sternly. In fact, her heart was beating so fast, and her breath coming so quick, that she could not speak. ‘Mr. Jasper,’ she said at length, controlling her emotions by a strong effort of will, ‘I entreat you—go.’
He was silent.
‘I have nursed you; I have given my nights and days to you. You confessed that I had saved your life. If you have any gratitude in your heart, if you have any respect for the house that has sheltered you—go!’
‘Barbara,’ said her father, ‘you are a perverse girl. He shall not go. I insist on his fulfilling his engagement. If he leaves I shall take legal proceedings against his father to recover the money.’
‘Do that rather than retain him.’
‘Miss Jordan,’ said Jasper, slowly, and with sadness in his voice, ‘it is true that you have saved my life. Your kind hand drew me from the brink of the grave whither I was descending. I thank you with all my heart, but I cannot go from my engagement to your father. Through my fault the money was lost, and I must make what amends I may for my negligence.’
‘Go back to your father.’
‘That I cannot do.’
She considered with her hand over her lips to hide her agitation. ‘No,’ she said, ‘I understand that. Of course you cannot go back to your native place and to your home; but you need not stay here.’ Then suddenly, in a burst of passion, she extended her hands to her father, ‘Papa!’—then to the young man, ‘Mr. Jasper!—Papa, send him away! Mr. Jasper, do not remain!’
The young man was hardly less agitated than herself. He took a couple of steps towards the door.
‘Stuff and fiddlesticks!’ shouted Mr. Jordan. ‘He shall not go. I forbid him.’
Jasper turned. ‘Miss Barbara,’ he said, humbly, ‘you are labouring under a mistake which I must not explain. Forgive me. I stay.’
She looked at him with moody anger, and muttered, ‘Knowing what you do—that I am not blind—that you should dare to settle here under this honourable roof. It is unjust! it is ungrateful! it is wicked! God help us! I have done what I could.’
CHAPTER XII.
CALLED AWAY.
Jasper was installed in Morwell as bailiff in spite of the remonstrances of Barbara. He was given a room near the gatehouse, and was attended by Mrs. Davy, but he came for his dinner to the table of the Jordans. Barbara had done what she could to prevent his becoming an inmate of the house. She might not tell her father her real reasons for objecting to the arrangement.
She was rendered more uneasy a day or two after by receiving news that