Glyn Severn's Schooldays Part 22

There was a fresh jangling from below, exciting Glyn's curiosity almost to the highest pitch.

"Look here, Singhy, if you don't get up directly and see what that noise is, I'll come and make you."

"You do if you dare!"

Glyn threw the clothes back, sprang out of bed, and the next moment the coverings of his companion were stripped off on to the floor.

"Oh, you--" snapped Singh. "I'll pay you out for all this!"

"Come on, then."

Glyn did not wait to see whether his companion did come on, but stepped to the window, pulled up the blind, and raised up the window to look out.

"Here, Singh!" he cried, turning to look back. "Come here, quick!"

"Shan't! And if you don't bring those clothes back I'll--I'll--Oh, I say, Glyn, don't be an old stupid. Throw my things over me again and shut that window. Ugh! It is cold!"

"Will you come here and look? Here's the old elephant again."

"Gammon!" cried Singh, whose many years' a.s.sociation with Glyn had made him almost as English in his expressions. "Think you are going to cheat me out of my morning's snooze by such a c.o.c.k-and-bull story as that?"

Oddly enough at that moment there rang out from one of the neighbouring premises the shrill clarion of a bantam-c.o.c.k.

"Ha, ha!" laughed Glyn merrily. "It's a c.o.c.k and elephant!"

"Don't believe you."

But as the rattling noise was continued, Singh sat up in bed.

"I say," he continued, "what's the good of talking such stuff?"

"Stuff, eh? You come and see. Here's that great elephant right in the middle of the playground."

"Tell you I don't believe you, and I shan't get up."

"Ugh! What an old heretic you are! Didn't he get away last night and go no one knows where? Well, he's here."

"I say, though, is he really?"

_Clinkitty, clank! clinkitty, clank_!

"Hear that?" cried Glyn. "Now you will believe. He's got in here somehow, and he's dragging that chain and the big iron peg all about the playground. Here, I know, Singhy," continued Glyn in a high state of excitement, "he's come after you."

"Rubbish!" shouted Singh; and, springing out of bed, he rushed to the window, where in the gradually broadening dawn, half-across the playground, looking grey and transparent in the morning mist, the huge bulk of the elephant loomed up and looked double its natural size.

"There, then," cried Glyn, "will you believe me now?"

Singh uttered an exclamation aloud in Hindustani, and in an instant there was a shrill snort and a repet.i.tion of the clinking of the great chain, as the huge beast shuffled slowly across till it stood close up to the hedge which divided the garden from the playground; and there, muttering softly as if to itself, it began to sway its head from side to side, lifting up first one pillar-like leg and foot and then the other, to plant them back again in the same spot from which they had been raised.

"Well, this is a pretty game," continued Glyn. "Here, you had better say something to him, or shall I?"

"What shall I say?" answered Singh.

"Tell him to kneel down, or lie down and go to sleep before he comes through that hedge and begins walking all over the Doctor's flower-beds."

Seeing the necessity for immediate action, Singh uttered a sharp, short order, and the elephant knelt at once.

"Ah, that's better," cried Glyn.

"What shall I do now?" asked Singh, rather excitedly.

"Do? Why, you had better dress as quickly as you can, and go down to him."

"But it's so early," said Singh. "I haven't finished my sleep."

"And you won't either; and you had better look sharp before he rams that great head of his against the door and comes upstairs to fetch you."

"Bother the elephant!" cried Singh irritably, for this early waking from a comfortable sleep had soured his temper.

"All right; bother him, then," replied Glyn, who was wonderfully wakeful now; "but it seems to me that he's going to bother us. I say, Singhy, the Doctor said he wouldn't let Slegge keep that fox-terrier dog he bought a month ago."

"Well, I know; but what's that got to do with the elephant coming here?"

"Oh, I only meant that the Doctor won't let you keep him as a pet," said Glyn with a chuckle.

"Such rubbish!" snapped out Singh in a rage, as he stood on one leg, thrust one foot through his trousers, and then raising the other he lost his balance somehow, got himself tangled up, and went down with a bang.

"Oh, bother the old trousers!" he cried angrily, as he scrambled up.

"Here, I don't know what we are going to do."

"Don't you? Well, I do. It's plain enough that the great brute has been wandering about till he found his way here."

"But how did he get in?" cried Singh jumpily and with a good deal of catching of the breath, for in his haste he kept on getting into difficulties with his b.u.t.tons and the holes through which they ought to have pa.s.sed.

"Well, I don't know," said Glyn; "but I should say he tramped along yonder under the wall till he came to where the hedge had been mended up, and then walked through."

"Well, suppose he did," said Singh angrily. "What difference does that make? You see what a mess we are in. You are always pretending to give me good advice; now one is in regular trouble you don't say a word."

"Yes, I did," cried Glyn, who was also hastily dressing. "Not give you advice! Why, didn't I just now tell you I was quite sure the Doctor would not let you keep him for a pet?"

"Look here," snarled Singh, "you'll make me angry directly," and he glanced viciously at his water-jug.

"Can't," cried Glyn. "You're so cross now I couldn't make you any worse. But, I say, what are you going to do?"

"I don't know," replied Singh. "Take it home, I suppose. I came here to England to be educated and made into an English gentleman, not to be turned into a low-caste mahout."

"Oh, what's the good of being so waxy? Look at the fun of the thing!

Here, I know; let's finish dressing, and then send old Wrench to tell Mr Ramball that we have found his elephant, or that he has found us."