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Glyn Severn's Schooldays, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 24. The Doctor's Opinions On The Belt |
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_ CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR. THE DOCTOR'S OPINIONS ON THE BELT Time glided on, with the friendly feeling between Morris and the boys increasing, for the mathematical master, with all his weakness and vanity, felt at heart somewhat touched by the respect and deference paid to him by Glyn. "A thorough gentleman at heart," he said to himself. "Why, some boys would have gloried in the feeling that they had got me under their thumbs. And that Singh--what a splendid man he'll make!" He was one of the first to display his genuine delight when the Strongley School lads came over to play a return match at Plymborough to avenge the beating, coming strengthened in their eleven by four old pupils of their school, two of them almost men. But it was in vain, for Glyn's bowling played havoc with their wickets, and Singh stumped out all four of them in their two innings, three in the first and one in the second; while, when the Plymborough lads went to the wickets, Slegge playing his slogging game as soon as he got well in, and then after Burney had had a very fair innings, Slegge was joined by Glyn, and these two, amidst burst after burst of cheers, kept piling up the score till, with one unlucky cut, Slegge sent the ball up like a rocket, to travel far away, and then be cleverly caught out by long-field-off. After that the game went on, with Glyn seeming to do what he liked with the enemy's bowling, all the rest of his eleven playing a good steady game, Singh getting the most modest score; for, much as he shone as a wicket-keeper, he was not specially handy with his bat. Still, he added his modicum, till all had fallen. And Singh, who was standing with Morris, enthusiastically joined the master in the applause and cheers that welcomed Glyn as he carried out his bat. "Splendid!" cried Morris. "Grand! The finest bit of batting I have seen in schoolboy life. I am proud of you, my lad. Oh, if you would only shine like this over your algebra!" It was all genuine. So the result was that the Strongley boys went back after a second bad beating, in spite of the four old members of their eleven, one of whom had actually begun to shave. And then the school-life went on, with its ups and downs, pleasures and pains, as school-life will, till one morning--the morning following a pillow-chat in bed between the two boys who play the principal parts in this story, when their discourse had been about the length of time that had elapsed since the Colonel had visited Plymborough--Wrench came to the class-room to announce that the Doctor desired the presence of Mr Severn and Mr Singh. There was a whispered word or two as the pair rose from their seats wondering what it meant, and there were plenty of malicious grins, Slegge's containing the most venom, as he whispered to Burney loud enough for Singh to hear, "Cane!" while Burney's merry little face grew distorted as he caught Glyn's glance, and then began to rub his knuckles in his eyes, as if suggesting what his big friend would be doing when he came back from seeing the Doctor. "I say, is anything the matter?" said Singh nervously. "No. Nonsense!" replied Glyn. "I am sure we have both been doing our best." This was as they got outside the class-room and were following Wrench into the hall. "Hurrah! I know!" whispered Glyn. "I believe it's the dad come down at last." "Oh!" cried Singh joyously. "Then he'll want us to come and dine with him. How jolly!" For it was long indeed since the Colonel had been down; and though he wrote pretty regularly, first to one and then to the other, excusing himself on the ground that he had been very busy of late over Indian business connected with the late Maharajah's affairs, letters did not mean a day's holiday ending with a pleasant dinner and a long talk about old days in Dour. So the boys fully expected to find the fierce-looking old Colonel chatting with the Doctor and waiting to greet them in his hearty manner. But they were disappointed, for as they entered the study the Doctor laid down his pen, nodded gravely to both, and picked up a letter. "I have just heard from Colonel Severn inquiring after your welfare, though he says that one of you proves to be a very fair correspondent." The Doctor turned over the letter and read a scrap here and there, almost muttering, as if to himself, and then aloud: "Ah, here it is," he said: "I hope Singh is taking care of his belt, and that he is not foolish enough to wear it at any time." The Doctor looked up from one to the other. "I must confess to feeling a little puzzled here," he continued. "'Foolish enough to wear it at any time.' Now, as a boy, I have a very vivid recollection of regularly wearing a belt, especially when cricketing or running. We had a tradition amongst us that a belt was a very valuable support; and then we have antiquity on our side, the _cestus_, for instance, and allusions in the old writers regarding the gladiatorial sports, and the use of the belt by strong men. Does the Colonel mean the reverse of what he says, and is this a hint that I should give you a word of warning, Mr Singh, not to neglect its use?" The Doctor directed a glance at Glyn, and then said sternly: "Have I said anything, Mr Severn, to excite your risible muscles?" For he had detected the exchange of a glance between the boys and a faint smile upon Glyn's lips. "No, sir. I beg your pardon, sir. It is only the remark about the belt." "Well, sir, I was not aware that in my remark about the belt I had said anything facetious. Perhaps, Mr Singh, you can explain Colonel Severn's allusion without turning my words into a subject for buffoonery." Singh looked questioningly at Glyn. "I am speaking to you, Mr Singh," continued the Doctor angrily. "Have the goodness to reply yourself. You can do so without Mr Severn's aid." "Yes, sir," said Singh hastily; "but Glyn Severn gave me strict orders not to speak about the belt to anybody." "Dear me!" said the Doctor, looking from one to the other. "And by what authority?" "My guardian's, I suppose, sir." "Dear me!" said the Doctor again. "The Colonel says he hopes that you are not so foolish as to wear the belt at any time. Your schoolfellow forbids you to speak about it to any one. Well, there, I do not wish to ask impertinent questions. That will do, gentlemen. I merely sent to you for enlightenment. You need say no more." "I beg your pardon, sir; I think I ought to," said Glyn. "I did tell Singh not to talk about it, and to keep it safely locked up in his box, for it is very valuable, and I believe it is the one that his father the Maharajah used to wear." "Oh," said the Doctor, "now I begin to understand. But a belt, you say?" "Yes, sir," said Glyn, "an ornamental belt with a large clasp formed of three emeralds engraved with words in Sanskrit." "Then it is quite an article of ornamentation?" said the Doctor. "Yes, sir." "And valuable, I suppose?" "I suppose so, sir, very valuable, besides being a family relic that has been worn by the different chiefs for many years past." "A family heirloom, then," said the Doctor in a tone which showed his interest. "Now I understand," and he smiled pleasantly. "I hope that 'he is not foolish enough to wear it at any time.'--Of course; hardly an article of ornament for a young scholar to wear, Mr Singh." "No, sir," replied the boy. "That's what Glyn said." "And very properly," continued the Doctor, giving the lad in question a friendly nod. "And that I was not to show it to anybody, sir." "Quite right, Mr Singh, and I am very glad to hear that your schoolfellow displays a wisdom beyond his years. You see, the world is far from perfection; and weak, wicked, foolish people might have their cupidity excited by the sight of such an object, with results that would be extremely painful to every one here. May I ask, then--by the way--is this belt attractive-looking?" "Yes, sir, very handsome," said Glyn. "It is meant to bear a jewelled sword." "Dear me!" cried the Doctor. "I hope that Mr Singh has no lethal weapon of that kind in his room." "Oh no, sir," said Singh hastily. "I am glad to hear it," said the Doctor, smiling; and he took up and raised his quill-pen, giving it a gentle nourish in the air. "Remember, my dear boy, what one of our writers has said: that the pen is mightier than the sword. And where may this handsome belt be?" "Locked up in the bottom of my trunk that I brought from India, sir." "In your room, then?" said the Doctor. "Yes, sir." "But securely locked up, you say?" "Yes, sir," replied Singh, colouring a little, as he directed a sharp glance at Glyn, who added to his confusion by making a grimace. "Ah," said the Doctor thoughtfully, "that is quite right. Emeralds," he continued thoughtfully, "engraved with Sanskrit letters. An ancient Indian relic, of course. And very curious, no doubt. It is quite an old custom that of engraving gems, Mr Severn. The Greeks and Romans really excelled in the extremely difficult art, and I have seen in museums very beautifully engraved heads of Grecian monarchs and Roman emperors and empresses, and also signet-rings and other ornaments. Dear me," he continued, with a smile from one to the other, "I am much surprised to find that such a specimen of the engraver's work has been lying here in my establishment, and my curiosity is greatly excited. But really, from what you say, such a thing as this ought not to be kept in a schoolboy's box, but in an iron safe along with plate, or lying at a banker's. Mr Singh, really I should like to see this--er--article of--er--er--this ornamental belt. Will you show it to me?" "I can't, sir," said the boy half-spitefully, and he flashed a look at Glyn. "Severn said, sir, that I was not to talk about it or show it to anybody." "As I have before said," continued the Doctor, "I quite approve of your friend's anxiety respecting your position. It was very wise, and I will not press to see it, feeling as I do that no parade should be made of such an object as this. Why, every pupil in the establishment would be wanting to see it, and--There, it is much better not." "But I didn't mean, sir," said Glyn, "that Singh should refuse to show it to you. It was only to guard against such a thing as you have suggested.--Go and fetch it, Singh, at once." Singh hurried eagerly out of the room; and as soon as he was gone Glyn said, "Singh is getting more and more English, sir, every day; but he used to be very fond of talking about being an Indian prince, and was weak enough to be proud of that belt and ready to show it to any one who asked." "Not to his fellow-pupils, I hope?" said the Doctor. "No, sir," replied Glyn, who began to feel that he was treading upon dangerous ground, and he hastened to add, "that's why I gave him such strict orders, sir." "Quite right, Mr Severn; quite right," said the Doctor. "I highly approve of what you have done. But between ourselves--I say it because you are a very sensible lad, and I trust that you will see that it is something not to be repeated, for I speak with the best intentions--I am a little surprised that your father the Colonel, Mr Singh's guardian, should have placed at a mere boy's disposal what I presume to be a very valuable and unique portion of an Indian regalia." "Well, sir, it was like this," said Glyn, flushing and speaking hastily. "Like a child who, longing for a toy, Singh was always bothering my father to let him have it to wear. You see, sir, Indian princes dress up so very much, to look big before their people, and they have such numbers of jewels and ornaments that one more or less does not seem of much consequence. Singh has got hundreds of things belonging to him that he will have some day to do what he pleases with, and my father, I suppose, thought that it didn't much matter about letting him have one." "No doubt, Mr Severn, the Colonel had perfectly correct views upon the subject, living as he has done nearly all his life at an Indian court, and I am only looking at the matter with the eyes of an ordinary Englishman who never wears so much as a ring. Oh, here he comes. Let me see. I have a large magnifying-glass here in my table-drawer that may be useful to help to decipher the intaglio writing. Ah, we ought to have had here that poor friend of Mr Morris's who applied to me for an engagement; but I hear that he has left the town." The Doctor was searching in his drawer so that he did not see the change in Glyn's countenance; and as he looked up it was not at his pupil, but at the door, which was suddenly thrown open, and Singh rushed in, looking wild and staring, as he literally shouted: "It's gone! It's gone!" _ |
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