Glyn Severn's Schooldays Part 30

"I don't know that I should have minded your going to see Professor Barclay," said Glyn slowly, "especially if you went with Mr Morris."

"No, you oughtn't to," cried Singh hastily. "Mr Morris said that it would be a kindness to go and see the poor gentleman, for he is a gentleman and a great scholar."

"So I suppose," said Glyn, "in Sanskrit."

"Yes; and he's very poor, and can't get an engagement, clever as he is; and it seems very shocking for a gentleman to be so poor that he can't pay his way, and we are so rich."

"Oh, I'm not," said Glyn, laughing.

"Yes, you are, while that poor fellow can hardly pay the rent of his room, and he confessed to me--I didn't ask him--but he was so anxious to tell me why he had not paid me that money back that--"

"Why, you haven't been lending him money, have you?" cried Glyn.

"Well--yes, a trifle. He called it lending; but when I heard from Mr Morris how badly the poor fellow was off, of course I meant it as a gift; but I couldn't tell a gentleman that it was to be so."

"Then you have been there before?"

"Yes, two or three times. Mr Morris said that it would be a kindness, for the Professor sent me messages, begging me to go and see him, as he has led such a lonely life among strangers, and he wanted to communicate to me some very interesting discoveries he had made in the Hindustani language."

"Oh," said Glyn slowly; "and did he ask you to lend him money each time you went?"

"Well, not quite. He somehow let it out how poor he was, and I felt quite hot and red to think of him being in such a condition; and Mr Morris, too, gave me a sort of hint that a trifle would be acceptable to him. And there, that's all. Why do you want to keep on bothering about it?"

"Mr Morris took you there, and talked to you like that?"

"Yes, yes, yes," cried Singh petulantly. "I told you so."

"And did he say something to you about Hindustani and Sanskrit?"

"Yes. But there, let's talk about something else."

"Directly," said Glyn. "And did he read the letters on the emeralds?"

Singh looked up at him sharply. "What made you ask that?" he said.

"I asked you," said Glyn, "because I see you took the belt with you this afternoon."

"How did you know that?" snapped out the boy.

"Why, a baby would have known it. It was plain enough when you were in such a hurry to scramble it out of sight, and were so clumsy that you showed me what it was."

"Oh!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the boy sharply; and he stood biting his lip. "I--I--"

"There, don't stammer about it," said Glyn.

"But I felt that you would find fault with me and object."

"That's quite right," said Glyn, frowning. "I should have done so, for you promised me not to begin showing that thing about to anybody. Why will you be so weak and proud of what, after all, is only a toy?"

"It isn't a toy," cried the boy indignantly. "It is something very great and n.o.ble to possess such a--such a--"

"Showy thing," said Glyn grimly.

"You can't see it correctly," said Singh; "and I only took it that Mr Barclay, who is a great student, might read--decipher, he called it--the words engraved on the stones; and he was very grateful because I let him read them, and thanked me very much."

"But you might have remembered what I said to you about it."

"I did remember, Glynny," cried the boy warmly. "I thought of you all the time, and I even offended him at last by not doing what he wished."

"What did he wish? To get you to lend him more money?"

"No," cried Singh. "He wanted me to leave the belt with him, so that he might sit up all night and copy the inscription."

"He did?"

"Yes; and I wouldn't, because I thought you wouldn't like it, and that it wouldn't be right. But you don't know how hard it was to do. Mr Morris said, though, that I was quite right, and he told me so twice after we came away."

"But why was it hard?" asked Glyn.

"Because Mr Barclay said it would be nothing to me, and it meant so much to him. But it worried me very much, because it seemed as if I, who am so rich, would not help one who was so poor."

"I don't care," cried Glyn angrily. "You did quite right, and this Mr Barclay can't be a gentleman. If he were, he would not have pressed you so hard. It isn't as if it were a book. If that were lost, you could buy another one."

"But he said that he'd take the greatest care of it, and never let it go out of his hands till he had brought it back and delivered it to me."

"I don't care," cried Glyn. "He oughtn't to have asked you, for that belt belonged to your father, and now it belongs to you, and some day it will have to go to your successors."

"Then you think I have done quite right, Glynny?"

"Well, not quite; if you had you would have told me that you were going to take it there for the Professor to see."

"Oh, don't begin again about that," replied Singh piteously. "I told you I didn't mention it because I thought you would find fault."

"Yes, you did," said Glyn rather importantly, "and that shows that you felt you were not doing right. There, I am not going to say any more about it. I am only your companion. It isn't as if I were your guardian and had authority over you; but I am very glad that Mr Morris thought you did quite right in not leaving the belt. I wish you hadn't got it, and the old thing was safe back with all the rest of your treasures. You'd no business to want to bring it. A schoolboy doesn't want such things as that."

"Don't say any more about it, please," cried Singh piteously.

"Lock it up then, quite at the bottom of your box, and never do such a thing again. It would serve you jolly well right if you lost it."

"Oh, I say!" cried Singh.

"And promise me that if that man asks you to let him have it again you will come and tell me and go with me to the Doctor. I am sure he wouldn't like this gentleman--I suppose he is a gentleman--"

"Oh yes," said Singh thoughtfully; "he's a professional gentleman."

"Well, whatever he is," said Glyn, "I am sure the Doctor wouldn't like it."

"Look here," cried Singh eagerly, "I'll promise you, if you like, for I am getting to hate the old thing. I am tired of it, and I shall be ashamed to wear it now after all you have said, and feel as if I were dressed up for a show. You take it now, and lock it up in your drawers.

You'd take more care of it than I could; add then you wouldn't bully me any more."