THE COLONEL OPENS FOLK'S EYES.

Morris sat down, panting, and began wiping the perspiration from his

forehead. He looked very much agitated, and then he smiled with

satisfaction, for Singh sprang up and cried, "Mr Morris is quite right,

guardian. The Professor was a scholar and a gentleman, whom I knew

too."

"Indeed!" said the Colonel.

"Yes, sir. He spoke Hindustani very well for an Englishman. Why, you

saw him, sir!"

"I?" said the Colonel sharply. "Yes, sir; that night we were dining

with you at your hotel."

"The Colonel forgets," said Morris quickly. "He was with me in the

hall, sir, and wanted to be introduced to you."

"Oh," said the Colonel; "that man? No, I don't forget. I remember

perfectly well."

"And, guardian, he took such an interest in my belt!"

"Indeed!" said the Colonel quietly.

"Yes, sir, when I showed it to him. He asked to see it, you know, when

I told him about the Sanskrit letters."

"Naturally, as a Sanskrit scholar," said the Colonel drily. "Sit down,

my boy.--Doctor, I am very glad you sent for me, and that I am able to

clear up this miserable little mystery. You knew this Professor

Barclay?"

"Only as coming to me with testimonials to prove that he had been one of

the professors at Stillham College."

"Yes; and his name?"

"Barclay--Professor Barclay, Professor of Sanskrit and Hindustani. He

applied for an engagement here."

"Humph! All wrong," said the Colonel. "I thought I knew his face when

he tried to thrust himself upon me in the hotel; and I was right. I did

know it, though thirty years had elapsed since we last met. A man who

had been out in Calcutta and picked up a little Sanskrit and a pretty

good smattering of Hindustani--a man who can chatter a bit in a foreign

tongue always seems a big scholar to one who can't. This fellow, on the

strength of his acquirements, came back to England and obtained an

appointment near London where military cadets were in training for the

Honourable East India Company's Service. I was there--not Stillham, but

Barniscombe; name not Barclay, but Roberts. He was kicked out, Doctor,

for blackmailing the students. He was not much more than a boy himself

in those days."

"Colonel," cried the Doctor indignantly, "are you prepared to say you

are sure, and that this is a fact?"

"Yes," said the Colonel coolly. "He blackmailed me."

"Oh, impossible!" cried Morris wildly.

"No, sir," said the Colonel, smiling. "Quite possible. But you don't

offend me, sir. I admire the way in which you defend the man whom you

seem to have made your friend.--Well, Doctor, there's your man.--Why,

boys, you seem to have been babies in his hands. Glyn, I'm ashamed of

you."

Glyn looked at the Doctor, and then at Morris, as he felt that his

father was not treating him fairly; but he held his tongue, and then his

eyes flashed with satisfaction as Singh gave him a quick look and then

spoke out.

"Glyn had nothing to do with it, sir," he said. "He protested against

it, and regularly bullied me for showing this man the belt and lending

him money."

"Ha, ha!" said the Colonel. "Then he fleeced you a little, did he, my

boy?"

"Well, yes, sir. I lent or gave him some money, because I thought that

he was a poor gentleman. How was I to know that he was not honest,

when--when--"

He was about to say "when my teachers were deceived," but the Colonel

checked him.

"There, there, there," he said; "that'll do, Singh. You are not the

first fellow of your age who has been imposed upon by a needy

scoundrel."

"No," said the Doctor sharply. "If any one is to blame it is I, who

pitied the position of a man out of employment and tried to befriend

him. Well, Colonel Severn, I am very sorry; but it is forced upon me.

I feel it a duty to you to try and make some recompense."

"Oh, nonsense!" said the Colonel rather haughtily. "I need no

recompense."

"Indeed, sir," said the Doctor, "but I am answerable to Mr Singh here

for his loss through my want of care and foresight."

"Oh, pooh, sir! pooh! The belt was not worth much; eh, Singh?"

"Oh no," said the boy contemptuously, and raising his head he walked up

to the Doctor and held out his hand. "Don't say any more about it, sir,

please," he added rather proudly. "I don't mind losing the belt a bit."

"Oh, but," cried the Doctor, catching at and pressing the boy's hand

warmly, "this is very brave and noble of you, my boy. Still I must put

aside all false shame and accept the punishment that may fall upon me

from the want of confidence that people may feel in the future.--Colonel

Severn, this must go into the hands of the police. Such a man as this

must be run down; it is a duty, and before he imposes upon others as he

has imposed upon me."

"No, no, no, my dear sir! No, no," cried the Colonel. "The swindling

scoundrel has had his punishment before this, so let him go."

"I beg your pardon," said the Doctor; "he cannot have had his

punishment; and such a man as this should not be allowed to be at

large."

"There, there, sir," cried the Colonel, laughing pleasantly, and greatly

to the annoyance of the Doctor that he should treat the loss of his

ward's valuable belt in so light a way. "I find that I must make a

confession. That belt really was not intrinsically worth more than a

ten-pound note. It cost me about twenty; but I very much doubt whether

the scoundrel would be able to sell it for a tithe of the amount."

"Guardian," cried Singh, "what are you saying?"

"Something in very plain English, my boy. Let's see, how old are you

now?"

"Sixteen, sir."

"Well, it's about two years since you began to attack me about letting

you have that part of the Dour regalia, and I wanted to satisfy you and

do my duty in the trust my good old friend your father placed in me."

"I don't understand, sir," cried the boy, flushing.

"You soon will, my lad. I, in my desire to do my duty by you, felt that

it would not be right to let a mere schoolboy like you come away to make

your home at some place of education with so costly, and, from its

associations, unique a jewel as the one in question."

"You used to say so to me, sir," said the boy quickly.

"Yes. But in your young hot-blooded Indian nature you were not

pacified, and I felt bound to do something that I thought then would be

right."

Singh looked at him and then at Glyn, while the rest of those assembled

listened eagerly for the Colonel's next words.

"Do you remember, boys, our long stay in Colombo?"

"Yes!" they cried in a breath.

"Well, they are famous people for working in jewellery there, and I

easily found a man ready to undertake the task of making a facsimile of

the belt."

"Facsimile!" cried Singh, starting away from the speaker.

"Yes, my boy; and he did it beautifully--so well that I was almost

startled by its exactitude and the way in which a few pieces of green

glass resembled emeralds."

"But the Sanskrit inscription?" cried the Doctor.

"Exactly copied," said the Colonel; "cut in the glass. I tell you it

was so well done that I was almost startled."

"Then--then--then," cried Singh wildly, "I have been deceived!" and his

voice seemed to cut down that of Glyn, who was about to burst out in a

triumphant "Hooray!"

"Well, yes, my boy," said the Colonel quietly. "I told you I must

confess. I did deceive you in that, but with the best intentions."

A look of agony crossed the boy's face, and he turned from father to son

and then back.

"Treated as a child!" he cried. "Deceived again! Oh, in whom am I to

trust?"

"In me, I hope, boy," almost thundered the Colonel in the deepest tones.

"I had the trust imposed on me by your dead father to care for you and

your wealth until you came of age. Should I have been acting my part

had I given up to you and let you treat as a toy that valuable jewel

that was almost sacred in his eyes?"

"But to--but to--Then where--where is it now?"

"Lying safely with others, sir, in the bankers' vaults."

"Oh-h-h-oh!" cried Singh, and his whole manner changed as he stood for a

few moments striving for utterance yet unable to speak. But at last the

words came, hoarsely and with a violent effort, as in the reaction from

his fit of indignation he almost murmured, "What have I done? What have

I said?"

"Nothing, my boy," said the Colonel, holding out his hands, "but what

had my son been in your place I would have gladly seen him do and heard

him say."

One moment Singh's face, quivering with emotion, was hidden in the

Colonel's breast; the next, he rushed from the room, closely followed by

Glyn.

Glyn Severn's Schooldays · 第 70 / 77 题