After a few minutes thus occupied, the tall, dark gentleman left Josh Maybee, and walked as if in deep thought towards the end of the quadrangle.
Josh Maybee hurried with a smiling face towards the doorway, where Hal was yet standing.
He would have passed, but Hal caught him by the arm.
“Stay,” he said, “I want a word with you, Maybee?”
“Fifty, if you please, young sir,” cried Maybee, who appeared quite excited. “You have been lucky to me to-day, sir. Just had a crown given to me.”
“I guess who gave it to you—a tall, dark man with whom you were just now speaking.”
“The very same,” returned Maybee, rubbing his hands.
“Is it fair to ask the subject of your conversation?” observed Hal, hesitatingly.
“Certainly,” replied Maybee, “he didn’t caution me to keep what was said to myself. He asked me, first of all, who was that pretty girl—and, dear heart! she has a blessed sweet face—that was with you, sir. And I told him that I didn’t know. Then he gave me a crown piece, which I put away quickly, for fear he should ask for change or to have it back again. Ah! there aint many crowns and half-crowns given away here, sir!”
“Well,” exclaimed Hal, impatiently, “that was not all that passed?”