"That would be of no use: I must have ten. I shall be sure to redeem it, Mr. Rutterley."
"I am not afraid of that. The college boys mostly redeem their pledges; I will say that for them. I will lend you six pounds upon it, not a farthing more. What can you be wanting with so large a sum?"
"That is my business, if you please," returned Henry, civilly.
"Oh, of course. Six pounds: take it, or leave it."
A sudden temptation flashed across Henry's mind. What if he pledged the gold medal? But for his having it in his pocket, the thought would not have occurred to him. "But how can I?" he mentally argued——"the gift of the dean and chapter! But it is my own," temptation whispered again, "and surely this is a righteous cause. Yes: I will risk it: and if I can't redeem it before, it must wait till I get my money from the choir. So he put the watch and the gold medal side by side on the counter, and received two tickets in exchange, and eight sovereigns and four half-sovereigns.
"Be sure keep it close, Mr. Rutterley," he enjoined; "you see my name is on it, and there is no other medal like it in the town. I would not have it known that I had done this, for a hundred times its worth."
"All right," answered Mr. Rutterley; "things left with me are never seen." But Alfred Aultane, from the next box, had contrived both to hear and see.
Henry Arkell was speeding to the office of Mr. Fauntleroy, when he heard sounds behind him "Iss—iss—I say! Iss!"
It was Aultane. "What became of you that you were not at college this afternoon?" demanded Henry, who, as senior chorister, had much authority over the nine choristers under him.
"College be jiggered! I stopped out to see the show; and it isn't come yet. If Wilberforce kicks up a row, I shall swear my mother kept me to make calls with her. I say, Arkell, you couldn't do a fellow a service, could you?"