"Gone!" said the Doctor, letting the reading-glass fall upon his
blotting-pad. "What has gone?"
"My father's belt!" cried the boy passionately. "It has been stolen.
It is not in the box."
"Stop, stop, stop!" said the Doctor firmly. "You are speaking
excitedly. My dear boy, be calm."
"But it's gone, sir!" cried Singh, with his eyes flashing now, as he
looked from one to the other. "I tell you it's been stolen.--Oh, Glyn,
what will your father say? What shall I do?"
"Be calm," repeated the Doctor slowly. "My dear boy, recollect that I
stand to you, as we say in Latin, _in loco parentis_; and in the place
of your guardian I must tell you that in your excitement you are making
a very rash and cruel charge."
"But, sir--" began Singh, with an imperious stamp of the foot.
"Stop!" cried the Doctor. "At my time of life I have learned a good
deal of the weakness of human nature, and how prone we are to judge
wrongfully, especially in a case like this. On several occasions I have
known people to be suspected and charged with theft through the weakness
of the accuser. Nothing is easier or more common than for money or a
missing jewel or a book to be hastily looked upon as stolen when the one
has been spent and forgotten, the others in the same way been placed
elsewhere for security."
"Yes, sir," cried Glyn excitedly, "and I don't want to go against Singh
here; but I have known him do stupid things like that.--Look here,
Singhy," he continued hotly, "did you properly search the box?"
"Yes," cried Singh. "When I found the case wasn't there where I put it,
I turned it upside down, and the contents are lying all over the floor."
"And what about your drawers? Did you look in them?"
"You know I never kept it in my drawers," cried Singh.
"Yes, but you might have put it in one of them."
"Shouldn't I have remembered that I did?" snapped out the boy.
"You might," replied Glyn quietly; "but I have put away things sometimes
and forgotten where, and when I found them afterwards I have wondered
how they got there."
"Ex--actly, Mr Severn," said the Doctor; "and so have I, especially in
the case of books."
"I am sure it's been stolen," cried Singh passionately.
"Well, I am sure you're wrong," said Glyn, "for there's nobody here who
could do such a thing, though you always were very stupid about your
keys."
"What's that?" said the Doctor sharply.
"Oh, I have found his keys left in his box or drawers, sir, more than
once."
"Well," cried Singh, in the same excited tone, and he literally glared
at his companion, "suppose, when I was busy, sir, or in a hurry, I did
leave them in the lock! Was I to think that some thief was waiting to
go in and take that case away? Why, when my father was alive, if one of
his people had done such a thing as steal anything he would have been
given over to the guards, killed at once, and his body thrown into the
river."
"Ah, yes," said the Doctor quietly. "But that was in India, my young
friend, and matters are different here. Now, if you please," he went on
gravely, as he replaced the reading-glass in the drawer, "you will be
good enough to smooth your countenance and hold your tongue. Have you
told any one else of this?"
"No, sir," cried the boy. "I ran down directly to come and tell you."
"Here! What are you going to do?" said the Doctor, as Singh moved
quickly towards the fireplace.
"Ring for the police to be fetched," cried Singh.
"Stop!" said the Doctor sternly. "And please recollect that I am master
here."
"But--"
"Silence, sir! Now come with me and Mr Severn up into your dormitory;
and, until I give you leave, neither you nor Mr Severn will say a word
to a soul."
"But--"
"Did you hear me tell you, sir, to be silent?" cried the Doctor, in his
deepest and most commanding tones. "If there has been a theft
committed, which I greatly doubt, this jewel or jewels must be
recovered. Such an ornament, if taken by a thief, could not easily be
disposed of, and we must first have a calm and quiet investigation of
what will in all probability prove to be a mistake.--What do you think,
Mr Severn?"
"I think it is a mistake, sir."
"Then come with me up into your room, and I desire that you both treat
the matter in a calm and thoughtful way. I cannot have a matter of this
kind made into a piece of gossiping scandal.--Mr Severn, will you be
kind enough to open the door?"
Glyn sprang to the handle, and the Doctor walked slowly out, followed by
the boys, while Glyn gripped his companion by the wrist and said
hastily. "Come quietly, and if we meet anybody don't make them see that
something is wrong by wearing a face like that."
Singh looked at him fiercely, and then followed in silence, passing
nobody, as they made for the corridor and entered the door of their
dormitory, which Singh in his haste had left open.
The Doctor stepped in and made way for the two boys to pass, himself
closing the door after them, and then turning, raising his eyebrows a
little as he saw the state of the floor, where the carpet was scattered
with different garments and odds and ends, while the bullock-trunk lay
upside down.
The Doctor glanced at Glyn, who read his wish in his eyes.
"Where are your keys, Singh?" he cried.
"I don't know. What do you want with them?"
"Why, to search your drawers, of course."
"I can do that myself," said the boy haughtily.
"I know that; but I am going to do it," said Glyn firmly. And brushing
by his companion, he went to the overturned trunk, turned it back into
position, and drew the keys from the lock.
Singh made no attempt to check him, but drew himself up and stood with
folded arms, scowling angrily as Glyn unlocked and carefully emptied
drawer after drawer in turn, replacing the contents as he went on.
"Was the belt or girdle lying loose, Mr Singh?" said the Doctor calmly,
as the search went on.
"No, sir," and the boy, more himself now, described the colour and shape
of the missing case.
Then there was silence, which was only broken by the rustling noise that
Glyn was making as he went on with the search till he had finished,
closed the last drawer, locked it, and taken out the key. Then, with
sinking heart, he said quietly, "I am afraid he's right, sir. It's
gone."
"Is there any other receptacle," said the Doctor, "in which it could
have been placed?"
"No, sir," said Singh bitterly; "there is nowhere else."
"I am thinking," said the Doctor, "that it has not been stolen. If it
had been, the person who took it would have been content with rolling up
the girdle, as you say it was of soft leather, placing it in his pocket,
reclosing the case, and leaving it behind--for two reasons: one, that it
would be noticeable if carried about; another, that it might lie shut up
in your box for any length of time, with the change that had taken place
unsuspected. For, going to your box again and again and seeing the case
there, the chances are that you would not have opened it to note that
the contents were safe."
The Doctor was silent for a minute or two. Then--"So there is no other
receptacle in the room where the belt could have been placed?"
"No, sir," said Singh, with a scarcely perceptible sneer in his tones.
"There is nowhere else, sir, unless Glyn has put it away in his own
drawers so as to keep it safe."
"Oh!" cried Glyn, starting round angrily.
"Be silent, my boy," said the Doctor, laying his white hand upon the
boy's shoulder. "Such a thing is quite possible, as I have previously
explained. I was about to ask you to open the drawers yonder."
"But, oh, sir," cried Glyn, "you don't think--"
"My dear boy, no," replied the Doctor, with a look which made Glyn
eagerly take out his keys, rapidly unlock every drawer, and then turn to
Singh with a keen, angry look upon his countenance, which was now
growing hard; and as he pointed towards the drawers he uttered hoarsely
the one word, "Look."
"No," said the Doctor gravely. "Examine the drawers yourself, Severn.
You feel now that it is impossible that you can have done this thing.
Possibly, perhaps, after coming into the room alone and finding that
your companion had left his own keys in his box--"
"I did find them like that, sir, twice."
"Ah," said the Doctor, "and changed the _locale_ of the missing belt."
"No, sir," said Glyn. "I only took the keys out after seeing that the
trunk was locked, and gave them to Singh."
"Each time?" said the Doctor. "Tax your memory. Are you sure of that?"
"Quite, sir. Certain. I wouldn't have taken the thing out. I hated
his having it here."
"But tell me this," said the Doctor; "the last time you found the keys
hanging in the lock, did you look in to see if the case was there?"
Glyn shook his head.
"Ah," said the Doctor, and he stood looking on while Glyn deftly emptied
and restored each drawer in turn, the task being facilitated by the
orderly state of the contents.
"Nothing," said the Doctor, as that task was ended. "Now, Mr Singh, it
will be as well to replace those scattered objects of attire in your
box."
"Oh," cried Singh angrily, "I can't think now of such trifles as those."
"Replace them in the box," said the Doctor sternly.--"Mr Severn, have
the goodness to help your friend."
As the Doctor spoke he gravely sank into one of the little bedroom
chairs, and sat thinking with wrinkled brow, and watching the
proceedings of the two boys till they had ended.
"Now," he said, "can you think out any clue to help us to find the
missing case?"
"No, sir," came almost simultaneously from the boys' lips.
"No," said the Doctor. "The mystery, for so I must call it, is at
present dark and impenetrable. I am not going to send for the police to
make a clumsy and painful investigation at once, because I still cling
to the belief that something will occur to you two boys that will help
us to pierce what now looks very black and impenetrable. You will
kindly do as I tell you: go on with your daily avocations as if nothing
had happened, and leave any expose of what may or may not be a painful
matter to come gradually and from me."
Both boys responded by a sharp nod of the head.
"If you have not thought about the matter," continued the Doctor, "let
me tell you this--though you, Severn, must have felt it only a short
time back. Every person who is questioned or examined about this
missing belt is bound to feel a pang of indignation at what he looks
upon as being treated as a thief. We are approaching to fourscore
personages in this establishment; and if the belt has been stolen, the
probability is that seventy-nine are innocent and only one guilty. Now,
you see, to find the one guilty we must spare the seventy-nine innocent.
Do you apprehend my meaning?"
"Yes, sir, of course," cried Glyn, while Singh was silent.
"Then I shall proceed as I think best; but I tell you this: I shall be
perfectly firm and just, and shall leave no stone unturned to find out
the author of this scandal."
The Doctor turned and left the room, leaving the two boys alone.