"Oh yes, quite; only what you call pumped out."
"What, are you going in?"
"Yes; I shall be all right directly. I had no business to play in this hot jacket. I am only going in to change it."
"You're sure you are not done up?" said Glyn anxiously.
"Done up? Nonsense! I only want a bit of rest, and then I shall get back to my side and we can beat you."
"Jacket?" said Glyn, still looking at him in doubt. "Here, let me fetch it for you. I haven't had so much running."
"Do! There's a good chap," cried Singh eagerly, and thrusting his hand into his pocket he brought out his keys.
"In the bottom drawer, isn't it?" said Glyn.
"Yes, I think so. If it isn't, it's in the bullock-trunk."
"All right," cried Glyn, catching the keys that were pitched to him; and he trotted off, while Singh picked out a shady spot and threw himself upon the turf.
Just about the same time, book in hand, Morris, apparently deep in study, after walking all round the field, came up to the group that Singh had just left, and closed his book, retaining the place with his thumb. He glanced round amongst the resting little party.
"Why, where is Singh?" he said quietly, addressing Burton. "I thought he was playing on your side."
"Yes, sir; he is, sir," cried the little fellow eagerly. "He's just gone up to his dormitory, sir, to get his thin cricketing-jacket."
"Oh," said the master softly. "Nice day for your sports, boys. Don't let the other side win."
"No, sir!"
"No sir!" came in chorus. "We won't."
But the book of Morris was open once more, and he seemed to be poring over a mathematical problem as he walked slowly away.
Meanwhile Glyn had reached the door of the lecture-room, hurried in, mounted the stairs, entered the room he shared with Singh, and selecting the key of the drawers, opened the one at the bottom, to find flannel trousers, Eton suit, and a carelessly folded overcoat.
"It is not here," he said. "What an untidy chap he is with his togs, and how he gets them mixed! Don't want to brag; but I believe I could get anything out of my drawers with my eyes shut. Well, I suppose it was because of dad. He always used to say that a soldier's traps should be neatly packed together in the smallest space. Perhaps it's in the next drawer," he continued, as he thrust in and locked the one at the bottom. "No; he said it would be in the trunk," and changing the key, he went to the corner of the little room, knelt down, thrust the key into the lock, and threw open the lid.
"Why, it isn't here at the top," he said to himself. "Oh, I am not going to turn over all his things."
An ejaculation behind him made him spring to his feet, to find himself face to face with Morris, book in hand, the pair sharing the astonishment due to the sudden encounter.
"You here, Severn!" cried Morris, flushing up with anger, Glyn felt, for it was out of hours for being in the dormitory.
"Yes, sir. I was getting something from his box for Singh."
"Oh," said Morris, recovering himself. "Young Burton told me he was here in his room."
"He was coming, sir; but I came for him," cried Glyn, into whose brain now flashed a memory of a late conversation and dispute with his companion.
"I suppose you know," said Morris coldly, "that one of the Doctor's rules is that the pupils should only retire to their dormitories at certain times."
"Yes, sir, but--"
"That will do," said Morris, turning to go; and his cold, stern manner stung the boy, whose mind was now flooded with the recollection of all that Singh had told him, and a feeling of resentment sprang up within his breast.
"I shouldn't have come, sir, if Singh had not asked me."
"That will do, sir," said Morris, affecting the Doctor's sternest manner. "You know you have no business to be here, and I shall feel it my duty to report the matter to the Principal."
Glyn was silent for a few moments, and then he started, for he saw that Morris was evidently waiting for him to leave the room; so, going down on one knee quickly, he locked up the trunk, with a feeling of resentment growing stronger within him, and as he rose and faced the master again his mind was made up. His father had told him more than once that he looked to him to use his common-sense and do the best he could in any emergency on behalf of Singh, and for the moment, as he stood facing Morris, he asked himself whether he ought not to write to his father. The next moment he was speaking. "I beg your pardon, sir."
"That will do, Mr Severn," said Morris coldly. "I am not in the humour to hear any excuses."
"I was not going to make excuses, sir," said the lad, "but to say a word or two about Singh, who is to me as a brother."
"What do you mean, sir?" said Morris sternly. "I mean, sir, that knowing how good and generous he is, and ready to do anything charitable, still I do not think that he ought to be imposed upon and induced again and again to lend money to a stranger."
Morris stared at him wildly.
"And above all, sir, there is that belt of his, which it has always been understood between us should be kept perfectly private on account of its value. It ought not to have been taken to Professor Barclay's lodgings."
"Mr Severn--" began Morris, and then he stopped, unable for a few moments to utter a word. Then, in quite an agitated tone, he exclaimed: "Singh has told you of all this?"
"Of course, sir. We never keep anything from each other, though I didn't know he was going to take it till afterwards; and I feel quite sure that the Doctor will be very angry when he knows."
"When he knows!" cried Morris. "Mr Severn, you are never going to tell him this?"
"What do you think, sir? Singh is in my charge--by my father's orders."
"But, Mr Severn," cried Morris, "I--I am very sorry that I had occasion to speak so angrily to you; but I--I felt it my duty, and--yes, under the circumstances, I must confess that it was a mistake on my part to take your schoolfellow there. And those emerald clasps--yes, I see perfectly clearly now that it ought not to have been done. I should never have dreamt of such a thing had not the Professor, who has been a most unfortunate man, felt so deeply interested in the inscription."
"Yes, sir; I know all about that," said Glyn coldly; "and Singh told me that this Professor Barclay wanted the belt left with him."
"Yes," cried Morris; "but it was not done, and I strongly commended Singh for his firmness in refusing."
"Yes, sir, I know that too," said Glyn; "and Singh must not go to this man's apartments again."
"My dear young friend," cried Morris, whose brow was damp with perspiration, "I quite agree with you there. It was rather thoughtless on my part--a slip such as we are all liable to make. I was led away by the literary part of the question, and I somehow thought that it would be to the advantage of our young fellow--student if he learned from a good authority a little more about the inscription upon those stones."
"Yes, sir; there was no harm in that," said Glyn quietly.
"No, Severn, not the slightest, and as soon as I found the Professor making such a request--one that he certainly ought not to have made--I repented very bitterly of that which I felt to be a gross error on my part. There," he continued, with a half-laugh, "you see I can speak frankly when I have made a mistake. I hope you will always do the same.
But, of course, you do not think it in the slightest degree necessary that you should make any report about this to the Doctor?"
"What do you think, sir?" said Glyn coldly.
Morris uttered a gasp, and, looking wildly in the young speaker's eyes, he felt behind him till one hand touched a chair-back, and then he sank down speechless, to seek for his pocket-handkerchief and wipe his wet brow.