Glyn Severn's Schooldays Part 50

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR.

A WITNESS CALLED.

Neither of the boys enjoyed his breakfast that morning, and their studies afterwards fared very badly, for their attention was princ.i.p.ally directed from their books to the door, which opened again and again for some reason or another, but not for the delivery of the message they expected.

Knowing the military precision of the Colonel, both boys began to wonder at a quarter-past eleven why they had not been summoned, for the Colonel had said in his curt epistle to Glyn--which "looked cross," so the boy said--that he would be at the Doctor's at eleven.

Half-past was marked by the hands of the big dial, quarter to twelve, and then five minutes to mid-day, and in a few minutes the masters would rise; but there was no summons, and, what was more, the Doctor had not been in the cla.s.s-room that morning.

It was exactly one minute to twelve, and just as Singh's spirits were rising fast from the effect of having fully settled in his own mind that the Colonel would not come down that day, that his heart sank with a rush, for Wrench entered with the familiar announcement that the Doctor wished to see Mr Severn and Mr Singh in his study.

The boys followed the footman, and as soon as they were outside Glyn began to question him.

"Has my father come, Wrench?"

"Yes, sir," said the man coldly, for since the beginning of the trouble and the sharp examinations that had taken place, the behaviour of the servants had been distant in the extreme, and such friendly intercourse as had existed between the pupils and masters had received a decided check. In fact, as the days glided away, the Doctor's establishment had become more and more haunted by the evil spirit, suspicion.

"How long has my father been here?" asked Glyn.

"About an hour, sir," replied the man shortly. "I didn't look at the clock. This way, please, sir. I am busy."

It was so different from the Wrench of the past that it sent a chill through the boys, as they followed on and began whispering so that the man should not hear.

"Go on first, Glynny," whispered Singh.

"Get out! I haven't lost my belt," was the reply.

"But the Colonel's your father."

"Well, I can't help that, can I? It's about your business. You go on first."

"I shan't. I have got something wrong with my legs," said Singh. "They feel quite weak."

"Come on together," cried Glyn, and he thrust his arm through Singh's, as the door was opened and the boys uttered a sigh of relief in concert, for the Doctor was not present, and at first they had to see the Colonel alone.

It was a strange sensation that ran through both, a mingling of dread, despair, and misery, as they gazed in imagination into the stern, threatening countenance of the fierce-looking old soldier, and wished themselves a thousand miles away. For Glyn felt more uncomfortable than ever before in his life, and as he darted a quick sideways glance at his companion it was to see no haughty indignant prince ready to stand defiantly upon his rights, but a fellow-pupil appearing as mild and troubled as could be.

All this was little more than momentary, and the fierce threatening face they had come to encounter was all fancy made; for the Colonel's looks as he held out his hand was very much the same as when they had dined with him the last time at his hotel, and his salute was just a hearty English:

"Well, boys, how are you? But you two fellows have been making a pretty mess of it over that belt!" And before either of them could reply, he continued, in his short, giving-order style, "Great nuisance and bother to me. I have had quite two months taken up with your affairs, Singh-- Dour business, you know--and I shall be very glad when you are old enough to take the reins in your hand and drive yourself."

"But, guardian--" began Singh, who was breathing more freely, the warm pressure of the Colonel's hand having thrilled him through and through.

"Oh yes, I know, my boy; I didn't mean that. I am not going to be pensioned off. I am going to be a sort of House of Lords to you two commoners, and you will come and refer all big matters to me. Let's see, what was I saying? Oh, I've been busy two months over the Dour affairs. Got them pretty straight, and I was going up into Scotland for a month's rest. I meant to write from there if you had been doing your sums a little better, Glyn, and if you, Singh, had improved a bit in your spelling, for the way in which you break your s.h.i.+ns over the big words in your letters is rather startling."

"Oh, guardian, aren't you rather too hard?" said the boy appealingly.

"But you weren't only going to write to the Doctor about that?"

"Humph! No. I had some idea about salmon-fis.h.i.+ng when the season comes on."

"Oh, fis.h.i.+ng!" cried the boys in a breath.

"Yes," said the Colonel. "It won't be like getting up in the hills amongst the mahseer. Bah! Here am I running away about fis.h.i.+ng! I caught a forty-pounder last time I tried, and a big fight too. But the Doctor wanted me to come out here about this wretched belt business, and I have had to leave my club and put off my journey to come down and see about this.--It's a bad business, Glyn. I am afraid you have not been so sharp as you should have been."

"I have tried my best, father."

"I suppose so; but the best's bad."

"Don't be hard on him, guardian," said Singh, laying his hand affectionately on the Colonel's shoulder. "It was all my fault, and I know better now."

"Know better? What do you mean by that, sir?"

"Well, sir," said Singh hesitatingly, "I know it was weak and foolish of me to want to have a showy thing like that to wear; but I was not so English then as I am now."

"Showy thing like that, eh?" said the Colonel. "Ahem! Well, I don't know that you need excuse yourself about that. It's rather natural. A soldier likes showy regimentals. I was always proud of my uniform, boys. No, I am not going to fall foul of you about that, Singh, so long as you didn't make a goose of yourself with it. But when you had such a showy thing, you ought to have had gumption enough to know how to take care of it. Well, it will be a lesson to you to know how to behave by-and-by when you come out among your own people as a prince. You won't go pitching your jewels about then as if you were asking people to come and help themselves."

"But it was like this, father--" began Glyn.

"Halt!" cried the Colonel sharply. "Wait till the Doctor comes. He is going through it all quietly with you, and he has asked me to sit like a judge till it has all been put before me, and then I am to give my verdict. He asks me to say whether the matter shall be placed in the hands of the police. Well, one of you had better ring, and--"

As he was speaking, there was a tap at the door, which was gently opened, and the Doctor said, "May I come in?"

"Yes, sir. Come in, come in. I have had my say to the boys, and told them what I think about their carelessness, and to a certain extent our young friend here, Singh, agrees, I believe, that it was rather a mistake for him to have that piece of vanity at school."

"I am glad, Colonel," said the Doctor, seating himself, "that they are ready to confess a fault; but as one who seeks to hold the scales of justice evenly, I hope you will excuse me for saying that I think my pupils are not entirely to blame; for--I beg you will not be offended--I venture to think it was rather indiscreet on your part to give way to my young friend Singh, however much he may have pressed you, and placed in his hands so valuable an heirloom."

"Humph! You think so, do you?" grunted the Colonel. "However, it is not of so much consequence. He has got plenty more valuable jewels-- enough to make himself look as gay as a peac.o.c.k by-and-by."

"Excuse me, Colonel Severn," said the Doctor stiffly; "I think the matter is of very great consequence. Not only is it a serious loss--"

The Colonel grunted again.

"But I feel as if the honour and reputation of my school are at stake, and it was for that reason that I wrote and asked you to come down to consult with me as to what steps should be taken now towards the recovery of the belt. This, before placing the matter in the hands of the police."

"Oh, hang the police!" said the Colonel shortly. "We can settle this little matter, I am sure, without calling in the help of policeman A or Z."

"I am very glad to hear you say so, Colonel; for it would be most repugnant to me, and painful to my staff of a.s.sistants, and for my pupils, I may add. There are the servants too, and the publicity in the town, where I am afraid the matter is too much talked about already.

You think, then, that we may dispense with the police?"

"Certainly," said the Colonel; "unless," he added drily, "Singh here wants the business carried to the bitter end."

"I, sir? Oh no!" cried Singh. "If I could do as I liked I wouldn't have another word said about it. I hate the old belt. Can't even think of it without seeming to have a nasty taste in my mouth."

"Oh," said the Colonel; "but we can't stop like that. I think, for every one's sake, the shoe should be put on the right foot.--What do you say, Dr Bewley?"

"I quite agree with you, sir. We have talked the matter pretty well over this morning, and I have told you what I have done. I was bound to question the servants, though all of them have been with me for years, and I have perfect confidence in their honesty. As to my pupils, I could not examine and cross-examine every boy. It would have been like expressing a doubt of every little fellow's truth. It has been a most painful thing for me, sir; and if you can help me or advise me in the wearisome business, I should be most grateful."