Time glided on, with the friendly feeling between Morris and the boys
increasing, for the mathematical master, with all his weakness and
vanity, felt at heart somewhat touched by the respect and deference paid
to him by Glyn.
"A thorough gentleman at heart," he said to himself. "Why, some boys
would have gloried in the feeling that they had got me under their
thumbs. And that Singh--what a splendid man he'll make!"
He was one of the first to display his genuine delight when the
Strongley School lads came over to play a return match at Plymborough to
avenge the beating, coming strengthened in their eleven by four old
pupils of their school, two of them almost men.
But it was in vain, for Glyn's bowling played havoc with their wickets,
and Singh stumped out all four of them in their two innings, three in
the first and one in the second; while, when the Plymborough lads went
to the wickets, Slegge playing his slogging game as soon as he got well
in, and then after Burney had had a very fair innings, Slegge was joined
by Glyn, and these two, amidst burst after burst of cheers, kept piling
up the score till, with one unlucky cut, Slegge sent the ball up like a
rocket, to travel far away, and then be cleverly caught out by
long-field-off.
After that the game went on, with Glyn seeming to do what he liked with
the enemy's bowling, all the rest of his eleven playing a good steady
game, Singh getting the most modest score; for, much as he shone as a
wicket-keeper, he was not specially handy with his bat. Still, he added
his modicum, till all had fallen. And Singh, who was standing with
Morris, enthusiastically joined the master in the applause and cheers
that welcomed Glyn as he carried out his bat.
"Splendid!" cried Morris. "Grand! The finest bit of batting I have
seen in schoolboy life. I am proud of you, my lad. Oh, if you would
only shine like this over your algebra!"
It was all genuine.
So the result was that the Strongley boys went back after a second bad
beating, in spite of the four old members of their eleven, one of whom
had actually begun to shave.
And then the school-life went on, with its ups and downs, pleasures and
pains, as school-life will, till one morning--the morning following a
pillow-chat in bed between the two boys who play the principal parts in
this story, when their discourse had been about the length of time that
had elapsed since the Colonel had visited Plymborough--Wrench came to
the class-room to announce that the Doctor desired the presence of Mr
Severn and Mr Singh.
There was a whispered word or two as the pair rose from their seats
wondering what it meant, and there were plenty of malicious grins,
Slegge's containing the most venom, as he whispered to Burney loud
enough for Singh to hear, "Cane!" while Burney's merry little face grew
distorted as he caught Glyn's glance, and then began to rub his knuckles
in his eyes, as if suggesting what his big friend would be doing when he
came back from seeing the Doctor.
"I say, is anything the matter?" said Singh nervously.
"No. Nonsense!" replied Glyn. "I am sure we have both been doing our
best."
This was as they got outside the class-room and were following Wrench
into the hall.
"Hurrah! I know!" whispered Glyn. "I believe it's the dad come down at
last."
"Oh!" cried Singh joyously. "Then he'll want us to come and dine with
him. How jolly!"
For it was long indeed since the Colonel had been down; and though he
wrote pretty regularly, first to one and then to the other, excusing
himself on the ground that he had been very busy of late over Indian
business connected with the late Maharajah's affairs, letters did not
mean a day's holiday ending with a pleasant dinner and a long talk about
old days in Dour.
So the boys fully expected to find the fierce-looking old Colonel
chatting with the Doctor and waiting to greet them in his hearty manner.
But they were disappointed, for as they entered the study the Doctor
laid down his pen, nodded gravely to both, and picked up a letter.
"I have just heard from Colonel Severn inquiring after your welfare,
though he says that one of you proves to be a very fair correspondent."
The Doctor turned over the letter and read a scrap here and there,
almost muttering, as if to himself, and then aloud:
"Ah, here it is," he said: "I hope Singh is taking care of his belt, and
that he is not foolish enough to wear it at any time."
The Doctor looked up from one to the other.
"I must confess to feeling a little puzzled here," he continued.
"`Foolish enough to wear it at any time.' Now, as a boy, I have a very
vivid recollection of regularly wearing a belt, especially when
cricketing or running. We had a tradition amongst us that a belt was a
very valuable support; and then we have antiquity on our side, the
_cestus_, for instance, and allusions in the old writers regarding the
gladiatorial sports, and the use of the belt by strong men. Does the
Colonel mean the reverse of what he says, and is this a hint that I
should give you a word of warning, Mr Singh, not to neglect its use?"
The Doctor directed a glance at Glyn, and then said sternly: "Have I
said anything, Mr Severn, to excite your risible muscles?" For he had
detected the exchange of a glance between the boys and a faint smile
upon Glyn's lips.
"No, sir. I beg your pardon, sir. It is only the remark about the
belt."
"Well, sir, I was not aware that in my remark about the belt I had said
anything facetious. Perhaps, Mr Singh, you can explain Colonel
Severn's allusion without turning my words into a subject for
buffoonery."
Singh looked questioningly at Glyn.
"I am speaking to you, Mr Singh," continued the Doctor angrily. "Have
the goodness to reply yourself. You can do so without Mr Severn's
aid."
"Yes, sir," said Singh hastily; "but Glyn Severn gave me strict orders
not to speak about the belt to anybody."
"Dear me!" said the Doctor, looking from one to the other. "And by what
authority?"
"My guardian's, I suppose, sir."
"Dear me!" said the Doctor again. "The Colonel says he hopes that you
are not so foolish as to wear the belt at any time. Your schoolfellow
forbids you to speak about it to any one. Well, there, I do not wish to
ask impertinent questions. That will do, gentlemen. I merely sent to
you for enlightenment. You need say no more."
"I beg your pardon, sir; I think I ought to," said Glyn. "I did tell
Singh not to talk about it, and to keep it safely locked up in his box,
for it is very valuable, and I believe it is the one that his father the
Maharajah used to wear."
"Oh," said the Doctor, "now I begin to understand. But a belt, you
say?"
"Yes, sir," said Glyn, "an ornamental belt with a large clasp formed of
three emeralds engraved with words in Sanskrit."
"Then it is quite an article of ornamentation?" said the Doctor.
"Yes, sir."
"And valuable, I suppose?"
"I suppose so, sir, very valuable, besides being a family relic that has
been worn by the different chiefs for many years past."
"A family heirloom, then," said the Doctor in a tone which showed his
interest. "Now I understand," and he smiled pleasantly. "I hope that
`he is not foolish enough to wear it at any time.'--Of course; hardly an
article of ornament for a young scholar to wear, Mr Singh."
"No, sir," replied the boy. "That's what Glyn said."
"And very properly," continued the Doctor, giving the lad in question a
friendly nod.
"And that I was not to show it to anybody, sir."
"Quite right, Mr Singh, and I am very glad to hear that your
schoolfellow displays a wisdom beyond his years. You see, the world is
far from perfection; and weak, wicked, foolish people might have their
cupidity excited by the sight of such an object, with results that would
be extremely painful to every one here. May I ask, then--by the way--is
this belt attractive-looking?"
"Yes, sir, very handsome," said Glyn. "It is meant to bear a jewelled
sword."
"Dear me!" cried the Doctor. "I hope that Mr Singh has no lethal
weapon of that kind in his room."
"Oh no, sir," said Singh hastily.
"I am glad to hear it," said the Doctor, smiling; and he took up and
raised his quill-pen, giving it a gentle nourish in the air. "Remember,
my dear boy, what one of our writers has said: that the pen is mightier
than the sword. And where may this handsome belt be?"
"Locked up in the bottom of my trunk that I brought from India, sir."
"In your room, then?" said the Doctor.
"Yes, sir."
"But securely locked up, you say?"
"Yes, sir," replied Singh, colouring a little, as he directed a sharp
glance at Glyn, who added to his confusion by making a grimace.
"Ah," said the Doctor thoughtfully, "that is quite right. Emeralds," he
continued thoughtfully, "engraved with Sanskrit letters. An ancient
Indian relic, of course. And very curious, no doubt. It is quite an
old custom that of engraving gems, Mr Severn. The Greeks and Romans
really excelled in the extremely difficult art, and I have seen in
museums very beautifully engraved heads of Grecian monarchs and Roman
emperors and empresses, and also signet-rings and other ornaments. Dear
me," he continued, with a smile from one to the other, "I am much
surprised to find that such a specimen of the engraver's work has been
lying here in my establishment, and my curiosity is greatly excited.
But really, from what you say, such a thing as this ought not to be kept
in a schoolboy's box, but in an iron safe along with plate, or lying at
a banker's. Mr Singh, really I should like to see this--er--article
of--er--er--this ornamental belt. Will you show it to me?"
"I can't, sir," said the boy half-spitefully, and he flashed a look at
Glyn. "Severn said, sir, that I was not to talk about it or show it to
anybody."
"As I have before said," continued the Doctor, "I quite approve of your
friend's anxiety respecting your position. It was very wise, and I will
not press to see it, feeling as I do that no parade should be made of
such an object as this. Why, every pupil in the establishment would be
wanting to see it, and--There, it is much better not."
"But I didn't mean, sir," said Glyn, "that Singh should refuse to show
it to you. It was only to guard against such a thing as you have
suggested.--Go and fetch it, Singh, at once."
Singh hurried eagerly out of the room; and as soon as he was gone Glyn
said, "Singh is getting more and more English, sir, every day; but he
used to be very fond of talking about being an Indian prince, and was
weak enough to be proud of that belt and ready to show it to any one who
asked."
"Not to his fellow-pupils, I hope?" said the Doctor.
"No, sir," replied Glyn, who began to feel that he was treading upon
dangerous ground, and he hastened to add, "that's why I gave him such
strict orders, sir."
"Quite right, Mr Severn; quite right," said the Doctor. "I highly
approve of what you have done. But between ourselves--I say it because
you are a very sensible lad, and I trust that you will see that it is
something not to be repeated, for I speak with the best intentions--I am
a little surprised that your father the Colonel, Mr Singh's guardian,
should have placed at a mere boy's disposal what I presume to be a very
valuable and unique portion of an Indian regalia."
"Well, sir, it was like this," said Glyn, flushing and speaking hastily.
"Like a child who, longing for a toy, Singh was always bothering my
father to let him have it to wear. You see, sir, Indian princes dress
up so very much, to look big before their people, and they have such
numbers of jewels and ornaments that one more or less does not seem of
much consequence. Singh has got hundreds of things belonging to him
that he will have some day to do what he pleases with, and my father, I
suppose, thought that it didn't much matter about letting him have one."
"No doubt, Mr Severn, the Colonel had perfectly correct views upon the
subject, living as he has done nearly all his life at an Indian court,
and I am only looking at the matter with the eyes of an ordinary
Englishman who never wears so much as a ring. Oh, here he comes. Let
me see. I have a large magnifying-glass here in my table-drawer that
may be useful to help to decipher the intaglio writing. Ah, we ought to
have had here that poor friend of Mr Morris's who applied to me for an
engagement; but I hear that he has left the town."
The Doctor was searching in his drawer so that he did not see the change
in Glyn's countenance; and as he looked up it was not at his pupil, but
at the door, which was suddenly thrown open, and Singh rushed in,
looking wild and staring, as he literally shouted: "It's gone! It's
gone!"