Chapter XIII: The Calais Noble

"ROGER, come here, I want you a minute."

The scene was the playground at the back of the Beaworthy Grammar School, one fine June morning after school hours, where a few of the day scholars, including Roger Trent and his cousin, lingered talking to the boarders before going home to dinner. Roger had been on the point of leaving when Edgar, who had been holding a conversation with a big boy called Cole, the son of a lawyer in the town, called to him imperatively, and he turned back and inquired:

"Well, what is it?"

"I want you to tell Cole that I haven't been story-telling as he seems to think I have," Edgar said, with a somewhat resentful glance at his companion. His colour was heightened, and he appeared annoyed.

"He's collecting coins," he proceeded to explain, "and he won't believe that I've a lot of valuable ones at home, or that I know anything about them. You've seen my coins, Roger, haven't you?"

"Yes," Roger assented. "It's quite true that my cousin has a very fine collection," he said, addressing the elder boy who still looked incredulous. "I've seen his coins—such a lot of them, gold, silver, and bronze; some are very old."

"Marsh says he has a Calais Noble," Cole remarked doubtfully. "I can hardly believe that, for it's an exceedingly rare coin."

"What is a Calais Noble like?" asked Roger.

"Don't you remember my pointing it out to you?" said Edgar eagerly. "Oh, you must, surely! There's a ship on it—I remember so well your noticing the flag at the stern."

"Oh yes, of course, and you said your father bought it for you for five pounds, which was very cheap!" Roger exclaimed, recalling the coin in question to his recollection.

"I should like to see it," Cole said sceptically. "You might bring it to school and show it to me, Marsh."

"I'm afraid I couldn't do that," was the hesitating reply.

"Why not?" questioned the big boy.

"Because if—if—" Edgar paused, appearing a trifle confused. He had represented to Cole, as he had done to his cousin, that his father's collection of coins was his own, and now he found himself in a difficulty. "Oh, well," he proceeded hurriedly, "perhaps I will bring the Calais Noble for you to see, but it's very valuable and—and—"

"I shan't believe you have it unless I see it," Cole interrupted rather impatiently, "but you can do as you like, of course. I'd give a good bit to own one myself."

"Oh, Edgar has it right enough, Cole," Roger declared. "I remember it quite well now, but I got muddled looking at such a lot of coins."

"Seeing's believing," observed Cole sarcastically as he moved away.

Edgar was irritated by the knowledge that his big school-fellow had not accepted his word, and he went home with the fixed determination of getting possession of the Calais Noble on the first opportunity which presented itself for his doing so, but it was some days before that opportunity came; and as he was certain his father would never give him permission to take the coin to school, he decided not to speak to him upon the matter. At length, however, there arrived an afternoon when he brought the Calais Noble to school and proudly exhibited it to Cole and several other of his school-fellows. Cole, who owned no coin so old and rare in his collection, admired it greatly and was quite apologetic in his manner to Edgar.

"Take care of it, youngster," he advised, as, after a long and careful examination of the coin, he returned it to the little boy. "I don't think you ought to carry it loose in your pocket, you'd never get another if you lost that one. You're a lucky chap to have it."

"Oh, I'll take care of it, never fear!" Edgar replied. "I know it's valuable. I hope you believe now, Cole, that I really do understand something about coins."

"Yes; and I'm sorry I doubted your word when you told me you had a Calais Noble," said Cole deprecatingly. "I thought you were on the brag, and I admit I didn't believe you had the coin to show."

Edgar was walking home from school, a short while later, in a decidedly exultant mood when his cousin overtook him. Roger was looking unusually solemn, and his first words gave the clue to the reason.

"Edgar, why did you deceive me about those coins?" he asked in a tone of deep reproach.

"Deceive you? I don't know what you mean," was the untruthful response.

"Oh yes, you do! You made out to me—as you did to Cole, too—that all those coins you showed me belong to you, and they don't—they belong to your father."

"Well, that's the same thing," declared Edgar, determined to put a bold face on the matter.

"How can it be the same thing? You know it isn't."

"It is. Everything of father's will be mine someday."

"Someday's not now. You deceived me, and you deceived Cole; but I've found you out, and he hasn't."

"Oh, you needn't think I'm going to tell him, for I'm not! Father says you had no right to show me the coins when Uncle John wasn't there. I wouldn't have looked at them if I'd known that. The stamps aren't yours, either. I was foolish to believe they were."

"Look here, Roger, don't you tell Uncle Martin I took that Calais Noble to school; do you hear?"

"Why not?"

"Because he might mention it to father, and there'd be a fuss. You don't want to make mischief, I'm sure. I've done no harm, and I'll put the Noble back in its place, in the cabinet, immediately I get home, and I won't touch any of the coins again without father's permission. Promise you won't tell Uncle Martin."

"Well, I won't. It's nothing to do with me. But why can't you be straight, Edgar? Why did you want to pretend the coins and the stamps were yours? Just to show off, I suppose. It was as bad as telling a lie, you know. That's what I can't understand about you—why you won't keep to the truth—" and Roger regarded his companion with a very puzzled expression in his honest, grey eyes.

"I haven't told a fib for ages," Edgar said in a shamed tone, "not since that Sunday when I said I hadn't been smoking when I had. I don't think there's much harm in pretending."

"Oh, but there is! It's making people believe what isn't true," Roger said earnestly. "I wish you wouldn't do it, because, besides its being wrong, one never knows when to believe you or not."

Edgar thought over all his cousin had said after he had parted from him, and wished he had never pretended the coins were his own. He was growing to like Roger more and more, and was wishful to stand well in his estimation; he admired him for the very qualities he lacked himself—truth and unselfishness. Roger was a great favourite at school with both the masters and the boys, for, though he was certainly hot-tempered, he was not unforgiving, as Edgar had proved, and he was good-natured and obliging; whereas, his cousin—who had plenty of pocket-money and was known to be the son of the richest merchant in Beaworthy—was not nearly so well liked, simply because he always tried to please himself first and had never been known to put himself out of the way for anybody. It was a mark in Edgar's favour, however, that he was not jealous of Roger's popularity. When the cousins had first been thrown together at school, the rich man's son had been inclined to patronise his poor relation, but he never tried to do so now—perhaps because he was beginning to recognise his own inferiority.

Immediately on his arrival at the Rookery, Edgar hastened to the study, but to his disappointment he found his father there writing letters.

"Well, my son, what do you want?" Mr. Marsh inquired, glancing around sharply, for he was undesirous of interruption.

"Nothing, father."

"Well, then, run away. I'm busy."

Edgar needed no second bidding; but he was sorry he could not then replace the Calais Noble in the cabinet, for the fact of its being in his possession weighed upon his mind. After he had had tea he went to the nursery, where he usually prepared his lessons, and set to work to learn them; but whilst in the midst of that task his attention was diverted by voices in the garden, and, going to the window, he saw his father join his mother on a garden seat under a laburnum tree at a short distance from the house. Now was the time to return the Calais Noble, he thought, for Mr. Marsh had no doubt left his keys in the study—he was never very careful of them. Reflecting thus, Edgar thrust his hand into the depths of his trousers pocket where he had put the coin, but, to his astonishment and alarm, he could not feel it.

Hastily he turned out the contents of his pocket—a pen-knife, an end of pencil, a piece of string, and the sticky remains of a packet of caramels—but the Calais Noble was gone.

"I can't have lost it!" he gasped. "Yes, I have—I must have! Oh, what shall I do? It's really, really gone!"

It seemed useless to seek it, but he did so, searching the schoolroom and the dining-room where he had had his tea, in vain.

"I must have lost it on my way home," he groaned, "but I dare not tell father, he would be so dreadfully angry with me. Perhaps I dropped it in the schoolroom but, no, I'm sure I didn't, for I showed it to Cole in the playground, and I didn't take it out of my pocket after that."

Edgar, as may easily be imagined, spent the remainder of the evening in a most miserable frame of mind; and he subsequently passed a restless night, disturbed by distressing dreams. He dared not mention his loss to anyone, and kept it a secret to himself, though he knew full well that he ought to tell his father.

"He set such store on the Calais Noble," he thought unhappily. "I've often heard him say what difficulty he had to get it, and, oh, I can't tell him, I can't! But I do wonder what will happen when he finds it's gone. He mayn't find it out for a long, long time, but sooner or later he will." Conscience prompted him to speak out and confess the truth to his father; but cowardice bade him hold his tongue, and he was so little in the habit of facing any unpleasantness that he allowed cowardice to prevail.