"But I am," said Vermont, smiling with the consciousness of power; "and I
will do it for you, for old friendship's sake."
"You will!" exclaimed the captain gratefully. "Jasper, you're a brick! I
feel sure, somehow, he will do it for you. I should stand no chance.
You are a good fellow to come to my rescue in this fashion."
"Ah," said Mr. Vermont, with a smile; "but can we be sure that Harker
will accept Leroy's name of the bills?"
"Why, of course, Harker or anybody--who wouldn't?" asked the Guardsman,
as the cloud dispelled from his face at hope coming so quickly from this
unexpected quarter. "Why, it's as good as the Bank of England. Harker
take it?---he'll snap at it. Only try him and see his greedy eyes
glisten. What could Harker get by selling me up?--absolutely nothing.
Besides, it would do him harm by letting others know how harshly he
served me. Oh, no, Harker will not sell me up if he can find such an
easy, safe way out of the difficulty."
"True," said Jasper pleasantly. "Well, I'll interview Leroy and see if I
can persuade him to assist you, as a friend of mine; I believe I can do
it for you. Going to Lady Merivale's to-night? Yes? Then we shall meet
again; till then, au revoir."
So, with a shake of his fat, smooth hand, the benevolent, unselfish Mr.
Vermont took his departure, still smiling serenely, on the business
which had brought him that day to London.
Nobody knew Jasper's private address. He was always to be found with
Adrien Leroy, and all letters were addressed to his club; or to Jermyn
Court; but of the locality of that place which Mr. Vermont would
sanctify by the name of "home," every one was ignorant. Whenever
questioned on this subject--he never obtruded the matter on anybody--it
was his custom to answer lightly: "Home! what does such a waif, such a jetsam and flotsam of the world's
flowing tide, want with a home? Really, my dear boy"--or madam, if the
speaker happened to be of the gentler sex--"if ever you have occasion to
see me, I am sure to be at one of these three places: Leroy's chambers,
my club--the Pallodeon, or Barminster Castle."
And accordingly, to one of these places his fashionable acquaintances
directed their inquiries for him. Mr. Vermont, however, really possessed
a home, small, it is true, but one quite suitable to his needs, and
absolutely secluded from the possible knowledge of his friends in the
gay world.