THE CALAIS NOBLE
"ROGER, come here, I want you a minute."
The scene was the playground at the back of the Beaworthy Grammar
School, one fine June morning after school hours, where a few of the
day scholars, including Roger Trent and his cousin, lingered talking
to the boarders before going home to dinner. Roger had been on the
point of leaving when Edgar, who had been holding a conversation with
a big boy called Cole, the son of a lawyer in the town, called to him
imperatively, and he turned back and inquired:
"Well, what is it?"
"I want you to tell Cole that I haven't been story-telling as he seems
to think I have," Edgar said, with a somewhat resentful glance at his
companion. His colour was heightened, and he appeared annoyed.
"He's collecting coins," he proceeded to explain, "and he won't believe
that I've a lot of valuable ones at home, or that I know anything about
them. You've seen my coins, Roger, haven't you?"
"Yes," Roger assented. "It's quite true that my cousin has a very
fine collection," he said, addressing the elder boy who still looked
incredulous. "I've seen his coins—such a lot of them, gold, silver, and
bronze; some are very old."
"Marsh says he has a Calais Noble," Cole remarked doubtfully. "I can
hardly believe that, for it's an exceedingly rare coin."
"What is a Calais Noble like?" asked Roger.
"Don't you remember my pointing it out to you?" said Edgar eagerly.
"Oh, you must, surely! There's a ship on it—I remember so well your
noticing the flag at the stern."
"Oh yes, of course, and you said your father bought it for you for five
pounds, which was very cheap!" Roger exclaimed, recalling the coin in
question to his recollection.
"I should like to see it," Cole said sceptically. "You might bring it
to school and show it to me, Marsh."
"I'm afraid I couldn't do that," was the hesitating reply.
"Why not?" questioned the big boy.
"Because if—if—" Edgar paused, appearing a trifle confused. He had
represented to Cole, as he had done to his cousin, that his father's
collection of coins was his own, and now he found himself in a
difficulty. "Oh, well," he proceeded hurriedly, "perhaps I will bring
the Calais Noble for you to see, but it's very valuable and—and—"
"I shan't believe you have it unless I see it," Cole interrupted rather
impatiently, "but you can do as you like, of course. I'd give a good
bit to own one myself."
"Oh, Edgar has it right enough, Cole," Roger declared. "I remember it
quite well now, but I got muddled looking at such a lot of coins."
"Seeing's believing," observed Cole sarcastically as he moved away.
Edgar was irritated by the knowledge that his big school-fellow had not
accepted his word, and he went home with the fixed determination of
getting possession of the Calais Noble on the first opportunity which
presented itself for his doing so, but it was some days before that
opportunity came; and as he was certain his father would never give him
permission to take the coin to school, he decided not to speak to him
upon the matter. At length, however, there arrived an afternoon when he
brought the Calais Noble to school and proudly exhibited it to Cole and
several other of his school-fellows. Cole, who owned no coin so old and
rare in his collection, admired it greatly and was quite apologetic in
his manner to Edgar.
"Take care of it, youngster," he advised, as, after a long and careful
examination of the coin, he returned it to the little boy. "I don't
think you ought to carry it loose in your pocket, you'd never get
another if you lost that one. You're a lucky chap to have it."
"Oh, I'll take care of it, never fear!" Edgar replied. "I know it's
valuable. I hope you believe now, Cole, that I really do understand
something about coins."
"Yes; and I'm sorry I doubted your word when you told me you had a
Calais Noble," said Cole deprecatingly. "I thought you were on the
brag, and I admit I didn't believe you had the coin to show."
Edgar was walking home from school, a short while later, in a decidedly
exultant mood when his cousin overtook him. Roger was looking unusually
solemn, and his first words gave the clue to the reason.
"Edgar, why did you deceive me about those coins?" he asked in a tone
of deep reproach.
"Deceive you? I don't know what you mean," was the untruthful response.
"Oh yes, you do! You made out to me—as you did to Cole, too—that all
those coins you showed me belong to you, and they don't—they belong to
your father."
"Well, that's the same thing," declared Edgar, determined to put a bold
face on the matter.
"How can it be the same thing? You know it isn't."
"It is. Everything of father's will be mine someday."
"Someday's not now. You deceived me, and you deceived Cole; but I've
found you out, and he hasn't."
"Oh, you needn't think I'm going to tell him, for I'm not! Father says
you had no right to show me the coins when Uncle John wasn't there.
I wouldn't have looked at them if I'd known that. The stamps aren't
yours, either. I was foolish to believe they were."
"Look here, Roger, don't you tell Uncle Martin I took that Calais Noble
to school; do you hear?"
"Why not?"
"Because he might mention it to father, and there'd be a fuss. You
don't want to make mischief, I'm sure. I've done no harm, and I'll put
the Noble back in its place, in the cabinet, immediately I get home,
and I won't touch any of the coins again without father's permission.
Promise you won't tell Uncle Martin."
"Well, I won't. It's nothing to do with me. But why can't you be
straight, Edgar? Why did you want to pretend the coins and the stamps
were yours? Just to show off, I suppose. It was as bad as telling a
lie, you know. That's what I can't understand about you—why you won't
keep to the truth—" and Roger regarded his companion with a very
puzzled expression in his honest, grey eyes.
"I haven't told a fib for ages," Edgar said in a shamed tone, "not
since that Sunday when I said I hadn't been smoking when I had. I don't
think there's much harm in pretending."
"Oh, but there is! It's making people believe what isn't true," Roger
said earnestly. "I wish you wouldn't do it, because, besides its being
wrong, one never knows when to believe you or not."
Edgar thought over all his cousin had said after he had parted from
him, and wished he had never pretended the coins were his own. He was
growing to like Roger more and more, and was wishful to stand well
in his estimation; he admired him for the very qualities he lacked
himself—truth and unselfishness. Roger was a great favourite at school
with both the masters and the boys, for, though he was certainly
hot-tempered, he was not unforgiving, as Edgar had proved, and he
was good-natured and obliging; whereas, his cousin—who had plenty of
pocket-money and was known to be the son of the richest merchant in
Beaworthy—was not nearly so well liked, simply because he always tried
to please himself first and had never been known to put himself out of
the way for anybody. It was a mark in Edgar's favour, however, that
he was not jealous of Roger's popularity. When the cousins had first
been thrown together at school, the rich man's son had been inclined to
patronise his poor relation, but he never tried to do so now—perhaps
because he was beginning to recognise his own inferiority.
Immediately on his arrival at the Rookery, Edgar hastened to the study,
but to his disappointment he found his father there writing letters.
"Well, my son, what do you want?" Mr. Marsh inquired, glancing around
sharply, for he was undesirous of interruption.
"Nothing, father."
"Well, then, run away. I'm busy."
Edgar needed no second bidding; but he was sorry he could not then
replace the Calais Noble in the cabinet, for the fact of its being in
his possession weighed upon his mind. After he had had tea he went to
the nursery, where he usually prepared his lessons, and set to work
to learn them; but whilst in the midst of that task his attention was
diverted by voices in the garden, and, going to the window, he saw his
father join his mother on a garden seat under a laburnum tree at a
short distance from the house. Now was the time to return the Calais
Noble, he thought, for Mr. Marsh had no doubt left his keys in the
study—he was never very careful of them. Reflecting thus, Edgar thrust
his hand into the depths of his trousers pocket where he had put the
coin, but, to his astonishment and alarm, he could not feel it.
Hastily he turned out the contents of his pocket—a pen-knife, an end
of pencil, a piece of string, and the sticky remains of a packet of
caramels—but the Calais Noble was gone.
"I can't have lost it!" he gasped. "Yes, I have—I must have! Oh, what
shall I do? It's really, really gone!"
It seemed useless to seek it, but he did so, searching the schoolroom
and the dining-room where he had had his tea, in vain.
"I must have lost it on my way home," he groaned, "but I dare not tell
father, he would be so dreadfully angry with me. Perhaps I dropped it
in the schoolroom but, no, I'm sure I didn't, for I showed it to Cole
in the playground, and I didn't take it out of my pocket after that."
Edgar, as may easily be imagined, spent the remainder of the evening in
a most miserable frame of mind; and he subsequently passed a restless
night, disturbed by distressing dreams. He dared not mention his loss
to anyone, and kept it a secret to himself, though he knew full well
that he ought to tell his father.
"He set such store on the Calais Noble," he thought unhappily. "I've
often heard him say what difficulty he had to get it, and, oh, I can't
tell him, I can't! But I do wonder what will happen when he finds it's
gone. He mayn't find it out for a long, long time, but sooner or later
he will." Conscience prompted him to speak out and confess the truth
to his father; but cowardice bade him hold his tongue, and he was
so little in the habit of facing any unpleasantness that he allowed
cowardice to prevail.