“You old Jew! Well, here it is then,” said Saurin.
“Have you got a shilling?” asked Griffiths. “I have only got half-a-crown; but if you can give me change—”
Saurin took the coin, giving back a shilling without further remark. He was thinking that it would be more effective to offer Crawley the larger coin, instead of fumbling with small money, and the notion pleased him. Besides he was not particularly disappointed; so long as he got what he wanted at the moment, it was not his nature to look much further. But he did not sleep much that night. Again this Crawley had scored off him, by putting himself in the position of generous benefactor and chivalrous defender of the weak, with him (Saurin) for his foil. There was one comfort; he was not so much afraid of Crawley as he did not conceal from himself that he had once been. Hitherto he had feared that if it came to a quarrel, he would not get the best of it, and this had caused him to restrain himself on many occasions when he had longed to give vent to his feelings. But, now that he had skill and science on his side, the case was different, and the balance in his favour; and if this wonderful Crawley, whom everybody made such a fuss about, did not like what he had to say to him, he might do the other thing.
The boys were gathered about the quadrangle
in groups, waiting to go in for eight o’clock school, for the different class-rooms were not open till the master of each came with his key and unlocked the door, by which time all the class were expected to be outside, ready to go in with him. And so it was the custom to assemble rather early, and now, though it was ten minutes to the hour by the big clock, the majority had arrived. Directly Saurin came he looked for Crawley, and saw him standing chatting with some other fellows. He walked straight up to him.
“Oh, Crawley!” he said, “I hear that you paid that Italian blackguard half-a-crown for his broken crockery yesterday, and since he made his claim upon me, though I owed him nothing, I don’t choose to let it look as if you had paid anything for me, so here is your money back;” and he tendered the half-crown, which the other did not put his hand out to receive. This exasperated Saurin still more. “Take it,” he said; “only I’ll thank you not to be so confoundedly officious again.”
“I don’t want your money,” said Crawley quietly. “You are entirely mistaken; I paid nothing for you. If I knew the image man’s address I would forward him your half-crown, but I do not. So you must hunt it up for yourself if you want to make restitution.”
“But you paid him the money.”
“That was an act of private charity. The man whom you call a blackguard—I don’t know why, for he had not been destroying any defenceless person’s property—had had a scoundrelly trick played him, and I and some other fellows got up a subscription for him, as anyone with a spark of gentlemanly feeling would be inclined to do. I am sorry that your contribution is tendered too late, but so it is.”