Glyn Severn's Schooldays Part 17

"You tell him so," said Glyn, laughing, "and see what he will say."

"How am I going to tell him so when I shan't see him?"

"Why, you'll be obliged to."

"I tell you I won't!" cried Singh pa.s.sionately.

"There's a sneak! And you will let me go down alone and face it all."

"Oh, I say, don't talk like that," cried Singh. "Can't we get out of it somehow, old chap? Let's run away till the Colonel's gone."

"Yes, of course," cried Glyn sarcastically. "How much money have you got?"

"Oh, I don't know; half-a-crown and some shillings."

"Oh, I have got more than that. I have got half-a-sovereign. Shall we go to Plymouth, and sail for somewhere abroad?"

"Yes, anywhere, so that we don't have to meet your father."

"Ah," said Glyn, who was trying very hard to make the lock of hair he had combed over a bruise stop in its place, but it kept jumping up again and curling back to the customary position in spite of applications of cold water and pomatum.

"Well, what do you mean by `Ah'?" grumbled Singh.

"Mean by `Ah'?" replied Glyn slowly. "Why, it means what a stupid old chucklehead you are. Run away! Likely, isn't it?"

"Oh, too late! too late!" cried Singh, for there was another sharp tap at the door, and Wrench entered smartly, closely followed by his cat.

"Doctor's compliments, gentlemen, and you are to come down into the drawing-room directly.--And just you go back to the pantry at once," he shouted at his cat. "How many more times am I to tell you that you are not to follow me up into the young gentlemen's rooms?"

"Bah!" shouted Glyn, and he threw the hairbrush he held smartly at the footman, who caught it cleverly, as if he were fielding a ball at mid-wicket, and deposited it upon the dressing-table.

"Well caught, sir!" cried the man, eulogising his own activity. "There, never mind, gentlemen; go down and get it over. There ain't anything to be ashamed of. If I was you, Mr Severn, I should feel proud at having licked that great big disagreeable chap. I shall be glad to see his back. He's quite big enough to leave school."

"Ah!" said Glyn with a sigh. "Come on, Singhy; Wrench is right. Let's get it over; only I want to bathe my face again. It smells of old Mother Hamton's embro--what did she call it? You may as well go on first. I won't be long."

"What!" cried Singh, looking aghast at the speaker. "Go down and see him alone? I won't! He's not my father; he's yours. You may go first, and I won't come unless I'm obliged."

"Won't you?" said Glyn, laughing softly, and he caught hold of his companion's wrist and drew it under his arm. "Open the door, Wrenchy, and make way for the hospital--two wounded men going down.--I say, Singhy, look as bad as you can. Here, I know: Wrenchy and I will carry you down in a chair."

Singh opened his mouth quickly and shut it sharply, making his white teeth close together with a snap. Then knitting his brows and drawing a deep breath, he held on tightly to his companion, and walked with him in silence downstairs into the hall. Here the pair stopped short by the drawing-room door, where Wrench slipped before them and raised his hand to show them in; but Glyn caught him by the arm.

"Wait a moment," he said, and the three stood there by the mat, forming a group, listening to the slow, heavy murmur of the Doctor's voice and the replies given in a loud, sonorous, emphatic tone.

"Now," said Glyn at last.

The door was thrown open, and they entered, to face the Doctor, who was seated back in an easy-chair with his hands before him and finger-tips joined; while right in the centre of the hearthrug, his back to the fireplace and legs striding as if he were across his charger, stood the tall grey Colonel, swarthy with sunburn and marked by the scar of a tulwar-cut which had divided his eyebrow and pa.s.sed diagonally from brow to cheek.

He was gazing at the Doctor and listening politely to something he was saying in his soft, smooth voice, but turned his head sharply as the door was opened, and his ultra-long, heavy grey moustache seemed to writhe as he fixed the boys with his keen grey eyes in turn.

"Right, Doctor!" he cried, as if he were giving an order to a squadron to advance. "Disgraceful!--Well, you do look a pretty pair!"

"I'll leave you together," said the Doctor, rising slowly, and then glancing at the boys. "Yes," he said softly, "dreadfully marked; but you should have seen them, Colonel, directly after their encounter."

"Ha, yes; wounded on the field," said the Colonel drily. "Thank you.

Yes, sir, I think I should like to have a few words with them alone."

For the first time since they had known him the feeling was strong upon the boys that they would have liked their preceptor to stay.

But the Doctor gave each of them a grave nod as he moved towards the door, and they both stood as if chained to the carpet till the Colonel made a stride forward, when Glyn recollected himself, ran to the door, and opened it for the Doctor to pa.s.s out.

The Colonel grunted, and then as the door was closed, he marched slowly across to his son; and as the boy faced him caught him by the shoulder with his right hand, walked him back to where Singh stood alone, grabbed him with his left, and forced them both towards the wide bay window fully into the light.

"Stand there!" he said, in commanding tones.

Then stooping stiffly to seize the Doctor's easy-chair by the back, he made the castors squeak as he swung it round and threw himself into it with his back to the window, when he crossed one leg over the other, and sat staring at them fiercely and scanning for some moments every trace of the late encounter.

Glyn drew a long, deep breath loudly enough to be heard, while Singh stood with hanging hands, opening and closing his fingers, and pa.s.sing his tongue quickly over his dry lips. But the Colonel still went on staring at them and frowning heavily the while.

At last Singh could bear it no longer.

"Oh, say something, sir!" he cried pa.s.sionately. "Scold us, bully us, punish us if you like; but I can't bear to be looked at like that."

It was the Colonel's turn now to draw a deep breath, as he raised himself in the chair a little, thrust one hand behind him, fumbled for his pocket, and then drew out a large soft bandana handkerchief and blew his nose with a blast like a trumpeted order to charge.

Then, as he sank back in his chair, "Ha, ha, ha! haw, haw, haw!" he literally roared. "Well, you do look a pretty pair of beauties!" he cried. "But this won't do. Here, you, Glyn, what do you mean by this, sir? Didn't I warn you against fighting, and tell you to protect and set an example to young Singh here?"

"Yes, father."

"Look at yourself in the gla.s.s. You look a pretty pattern, don't you?"

"Yes, father."

"I told you to look at yourself in the gla.s.s. Why don't you?"

"Because I know every scratch and bruise thoroughly by heart, father."

"But--" began the Colonel.

Here Singh interposed.

"It wasn't his fault, sir," cried the boy. "It was mine. He didn't want to fight, and said he wouldn't."

"Ho!" said the Colonel. "Said he wouldn't fight, did he."

"Yes, sir, and he actually let the big bully hit him."

"Ha!" said the Colonel. "And then knocked him down for it?"