was supplied, Buller perched himself on the table, Smith on a box--all
full of curiosity and expectation. Crawley and Saurin remained
standing. The door was closed and a mat placed against it, to prevent
any sudden entry without warning.
"I am not going to beat about the bush," said Crawley. "I accuse Saurin
there of having come to this house, one Saturday when we were all out;
of having gone into my room, taken my keys out of the pocket of a coat
lying there, opened the cricket and football japanned box, and
abstracted four pounds twelve shillings from a purse inside it. Then I
assert that he put the keys back in the coat-pocket, having first locked
the box and put it back in its place, and ran back to his tutor's house,
where he changed and went out to play at football. The motive of this
theft was that he had been gambling at Slam's yard, lost all the money
he had or could raise; went on playing on credit, lost again, and was
threatened with exposure unless he paid up. He had meant to borrow the
money he wanted of you, Gould, and came to the house with that
intention. But as you were not in, he got it the other way."
"It is all a pack of lies!" cried Saurin. "At least about robbing, I
mean; for it is true that I lost money playing roulette, and that I
meant to borrow of Gould, only I squared matters with the man without."
"What day did you come to apply to me for that loan?" asked Gould.
"I don't know exactly; it was not on a Saturday I am not sure that I
came at all," replied Saurin, who could not for the life of him help
stammering. "It's all lies; though appearances might be got up against
me."
"They certainly are so already," said Crawley, "or I should not have
accused you. Of course, if you can prove your innocence, or even if you
are convinced that no one can prove your guilt, you will prefer to stand
a trial. Otherwise you might prefer to pay back the money and leave
Weston quietly. What do you say?" he added, turning to the others.
"Would it not be best for the credit of the school?"
"Yes, yes," said Robarts; "let us wash our dirty linen at home."
"But how am I to leave?" asked Saurin with a groan.
"I don't know; tell your guardian the truth if you like, you must manage
that. Only, if you come back next term I shall lay the whole matter
before the head-master. And if you leave, and the money does not come,
I shall give information to the police."
"That's fair enough," said Buller; "take the chance, Saurin, if you are
not a fool." And the others assented.
Not one of them had any doubt as to Saurin's guilt: his confusion and
equivocation condemned him.
"What a cool fish you were to suggest that Crawley might have spent the
money himself!" said Gould. "You regularly humbugged me."
"You are assuming a good deal, I think," said Saurin bitterly; "making
yourselves accusers, juries, judges, executioners, and all. And I am
very much in your power, for if this came to a trial, though I should
certainly be found innocent of robbery, yet I cannot deny the gambling
and having gone to Slam's yard, and I should be expelled for that. So I
suppose I had better agree to your terms. I will not come back, and--
what sum did you say you demand as the price of your silence? Four
pounds ten, or twelve, I think; you shall have it." And turning on his
heel with an attempt at swagger which was not very successful, Saurin
went out, kicking the mat aside, and banging the door after him.
Of course Edwards had betrayed him, he said to himself; it was not for
nothing that Crawley had been constantly with him since his accident.
He longed to go to Edwards' room and upbraid him with his treachery, but
he durst not trust himself. He was not out of the wood yet; the other
three could be trusted, but Gould _must_ tattle, and if the story got
abroad and reached one of the master's ears, it would no longer be in
Crawley's power to hush it up. And then Edwards almost always had some
one with him; but if not, and he saw him alone, could he keep his hands
off his throat? From the throbbing of his temples when the idea
occurred to him he thought it doubtful. No, he must not see him.
"How on earth did you find it out?" cried the others to Crawley when
Saurin's footstep died away on the staircase.
"I have promised not to name my witnesses unless it is necessary to call
them forward," replied Crawley. "I am very much obliged to you for
coming here, and I feel that it is awfully bad not to take you into full
confidence and give up names. But you see I have passed my word and
cannot help myself. There's one thing I can tell you, Buller. Saurin
was the poacher for whose moonlight excursion you were taken up."
"By Jove!" exclaimed Buller. "Well, I should have imagined that he
might have done that, but not such a dirty business as this."
"I suppose he felt himself up a regular tree, poor beggar!" said
Robarts.
"Well, Gould," said Crawley, "I hope that your doubts as to my story of
having been robbed are set at rest."
"I don't know that I ever had any," replied Gould rather sullenly; "only
when a thing like that happens, and nothing can be found out, one puts
it in every possible light. Saurin said you were a careless fellow
about money matters, and might have mixed up the club money with your
own and paid it away without knowing, and then thought you had been
robbed. Of course one sees now why he put the idea about; but at the
time it looked just possible, and fellows discussed it, I amongst them."
"Well, it was not pleasant for me, as you may easily understand," said
Crawley. "However, that is all over, and we will say nothing more about
it. And now, of course we will all keep our council about this business
for some time. It would be breaking faith with Saurin if we let a word
escape before he has left the school; because, if the doctor heard of
it, he would insist on expelling him at any rate."
"Yes; and we had better hold our tongues for our own sakes," observed
Robarts. "My father's a lawyer, and I have heard him talk about
something of the same kind. And I have a strong idea that we have just
committed a crime, as that chap in the French play talked prose without
knowing it."
"What do you mean?"
"Just this, that to make terms with a thief, by which you agree not to
prosecute him, is a legal offence called `compounding a felony.'"
This notion of Robarts, whether right or wrong, had the useful effect of
sealing Gould's lips for some time to come. It only wanted a week to
the holidays, so the struggle was not so very prolonged.
Crawley went to see Edwards directly the council-board broke up, and
found him nervous and depressed.
"Perhaps I had no right to speak," he said. "It was not for me to tell.
I wouldn't; only you thought yourself under suspicion, and you have
been so good to me."
Well, Crawley could not but thank him and tell him he was quite right;
but he was not able for the life of him to say so in very cordial tones.
"Look here!" persisted Edwards, noticing this, "tell me honestly; if you
had been situated like me, would you have told of him?"
"Not to save my life!" blurted out Crawley; "I mean," he added hastily,
"I fear that I should not have had the moral courage."
The week passed, and Weston School once more broke up. What story
Saurin told to Sir Richard to induce him to take his name off the boards
quietly I do not know, but it had the desired effect; and when the boys
reassembled for the summer term Saurin's place was known no longer
amongst them. The scandal about him soon began to leak out, and the
story ran that but for Crawley's extreme generosity towards him he would
have now been in penal servitude at Portland.
Stubbs, too, went away that Easter vacation, taking Topper with him, and
the pair went out to China together, Stubbs having lucrative employment
in that country. Crawley returned, but that was his last term, and soon
afterwards he succeeded in getting into Woolwich.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
EPILOGUE.
A young man stood on the platform of the South-Western Railway pointing
out his luggage to a porter. There was a good deal of it, and every
package had _Serapis_ painted upon it. _Serapis_, however, was not the
name of that young man; that was inscribed on another part of the trunk,
and ran, "Vincent Crawley, RA." _Serapis_ indicated the ship into whose
hold all these things were to go. They had other marks, for some were
to go to the bottom--_absit omen_!--the bottom of the hold, I mean, not
of the sea, and were to remain there till the end of the voyage. But
one trunk was to lie atop, for it contained light clothing to be worn on
entering the Red Sea. Minute were the printed directions about these
matters which had been sent him directly he got his route. It is the
fashion to cry out against red tape, but red tape is a first-rate thing
if it only ties up the bundles properly. There is nothing like order,
method--routine in short. By following it too closely on exceptional
occasions absurd blunders may now and then be committed; but think of
the utter confusion that would prevail every hour for the want of it.
With a cold March wind blowing how should a young fellow who had never
been out of his own country know that in a few days it would be so hot
that his present clothes would be unbearable? Or how should he
understand the way to meet the difficulty if he did know it? I am all
for rules and regulations, and down with the grumblers.
Mrs Crawley and the girls agreed with me, for the official directions
saved them a world of trouble. They wanted to go down to Portsmouth in
a body and see him off, but he begged them not.
"I had sooner say good-bye here, Mother," he said, "if you don't mind.
There's a detachment, and I shall have my men to look after, and if I am
with you I shall be bothered. And, well, you know, parting is a
melancholy sort of business, and it is better to get it over in private,
don't you think?"
Mrs Crawley saw wisdom in her son's words, and yielded with a sigh, for
she yearned to see the very last of him. Ah! we do not half value the
love of our mothers until we miss it, and the opportunity for making any
return is gone for ever. It seems such a matter of course, like the sun
shining, which no one troubles to be grateful for. But if the sun _went
out_.
Well, it was a painful business--a good deal worse than a visit to the
dentist's--that morning's breakfast, with the table crowded with his
favourite dainties, which he could not swallow. And then the final
parting, when all the luggage was piled on the cab. It was a relief
when it was over, and he found himself alone and trying to whistle.
Even now, as he stowed the smaller articles in the carriage, he had a
great lump in his throat.
The guard began shutting the doors, so he got in, and as he had fellow-
passengers it was necessary to look indifferent, and as if he were
accustomed to long journeys. The train moved out of the station and he
found several things to distract his thoughts. Presently on the right
they passed the Wimbledon Lawn-tennis Grounds, and he thought of a
wonderful rally he had seen there between Renshaw and Lawson. Then
further on they came to Sandown on the left, where a steeple-chase was
in progress. The horses were approaching the water jump, and the
travellers put down their newspapers and crowded to the window.
"Something in Tom Cannon's colours leading; he's over. That thing of
Lord Marcus is pulling hard. By Jove he is down! No, he has picked him
up again. Well ridden, sir!"
"Who is it up?"
"Why, Beresford himself. He will win, too, I think. Oh, hang it, I
wish they would stop the train a moment!"
Everybody laughed at this, though it was provoking not to see them over
the next fence; but the engine gave a derisive scream, and away they
rushed to Farnborough.
"There's Aldershot, and the Long Valley, and that Cocked Hat Wood.
British generals would beat creation if they might only let their left
rest on Cocked Hat Wood."
They were all army men in the carriage, and the conversation never
flagged now it had been started.
"Are you going by the _Serapis_?" asked a gentleman sitting opposite
Crawley, seeing _cabin_ painted on his busby case in the net overhead.
"Yes," replied Crawley. And then learning that he was bound for India
the other inquired the presidency and the station, and it so happened
that he had left that district only the year before, and was now settled
in Hampshire, having been superannuated, at which he grumbled much, and
indeed he was a hale young-looking man to be laid on the shelf. And so
the time sped rapidly till they reached Portsmouth harbour, where a
conspicuous white vessel, which was pointed out to Crawley as the
_Serapis_, lay moored to a quay. Then he superintended the loading of
his luggage in a cart, and, taking a cab, accompanied it through the
dock-yard gates to a shed, where he saw it deposited as per regulation.
Then he went to the "George," where he had secured a bed, and on
entering the coffee-room heard his name uttered in a tone of pleased
surprise: "Crawley!"
"What, Buller! How are you, old fellow?"
"All right. Are you going out in the _Serapis_?"
"Yes; and you?"
"Yes."
"That is jolly. What regiment are you in?"
"First Battalion Blankshire. Do you know I got into Sandhurst direct
the first time I went up!"
"Of course you did; you would be sure to do anything you really meant; I
always said so. I must go and report myself now and see about my
detachment, for there are some men going out with me; but we shall meet
at dinner."
They dined together at a small table by themselves, and had a long talk
afterwards about the old Weston fellows, of whom Buller had recent
information through Penryhn, who lived near his people at home.
"I know about Robarts," said Crawley; "he is in the Oxford eleven; but
there is your chum Penryhn, what is he doing?"
"Oh, he is in a government office in Somerset House. Not a large
income, but safe, and rounded off with a pension. Better than our line,
so far as money goes anyhow."
"I suppose so; but I should not like office work. And Smith, Old
Algebra, have you heard of him?"
"Yes, he is mathematical master at a big school."
"And Gould?"
"Why, don't you know? It was in all the papers. Gould's father smashed
and died suddenly; did not leave his family a penny. Some friends got
Lionel Gould a clerkship in some counting-house; his sister Clarissa,
your old friend, you know, supports herself and her mother by the
stage."
"Dear, dear, I am sorry for them; it must be precious hard when they
were used to such luxury. And that chap Edwards, have you ever heard of
him?"
"Oh, yes, he is at Cambridge, and intends to take orders when he gets
his degree."
"I hope it will keep him out of mischief; I always fancied he might come
to grief, he was such a weak beggar."
"Yes, he was, and is still, I hear. But he has had the luck to get into
the clutches of a man who keeps him straight; a fellow as good as gold,
and earnest enough to make all the Edwardses in the country believe in
him."
"Lucky for Edwards; if he marries a stiffish sort of wife with the same
opinions he will live and die a saint. Saurin would have made the other
thing of him. By the by, have you ever heard anything of that fellow?"
"Not lately. He had a row with his uncle and guardian, and went to
Australia, I believe; but I have heard nothing of him for years."
They chatted late into the night, and when Crawley went to bed his heart
smote him to remember how little he had thought of his mother.
The _Serapis_ was to sail on the following day at noon, so when Crawley
had seen his gunners safely embarked, and the two friends had reported
themselves at the little office outside the saloon, had traversed that
lofty palatial apartment (how different from the cabins of the old
troop-ships!), carefully removing their caps as a placard directed them,
had made acquaintance with the little cabin which they were to share
together, and had stowed away their minor properties within it, they
took a last turn on shore, principally to get one or two little comforts
which they had forgotten till then.
As they passed a low public-house on their way back to the ship, a
remarkably smart corporal of marines came out of it, and since they were
in uniform, saluted. But as he did so, he suddenly turned his head away
and quickened his pace.
Crawley and Buller looked at one another.
"Did you recognise him?"
"Yes."
It was Saurin.
THE END.