"How do you mean, my dear lad?"
"I gave them my sacred promise not to play for money. I don't know why Dinah was always so afraid of that. They never thought of the other thing," and Cedric hung his head in shame—"they would not believe it was possible; it was always debt and not paying one's bills that Dinah feared."
"Your sister was right, Templeton," returned Malcolm somewhat sternly. "Wait a moment, I must think over things and see what is to be done;" and then he rose from the bench and paced slowly up and down. "A hundred and twenty pounds lost in a single night to a professional card-sharper," he thought. "The rogues ought to be shown up, only this would involve the end of the lad's university career." Malcolm knew the Proctor well—not even a first offence would receive a merciful verdict.
If only the boy would throw himself upon his sisters' compassion—women were so soft-hearted and forgave so easily. But Cedric had refused this; he had even used strong language when his adviser pressed it.
"Obstinate young beggar," he growled; "it would serve him right to let him get out of the mess by himself;" and then he relented from his severity, and rapidly added up some sums in his head. The result of his calculation was satisfactory. He had just that amount lying idle at his banker's. His mother made him a liberal allowance, and he was beginning to turn an honest penny by literary work. At that time he was still an occupant of his mother's house, so his expenses were not great.
"Yes, I will risk it," he thought, with one of those sudden impulses that took other people as well as himself by surprise, and then he walked quickly up to Cedric.
"Look here, Templeton," he exclaimed, "I have made up my mind to go bail for the whole amount. It is too late now to do anything, but to-morrow I will see those fellows and give them a bit of my mind. Your friend the card-sharper will have to make tracks. Anyhow, I will pay up."
"Good heavens, Mr. Herrick, you don't mean—you don't mean;" but here Cedric could not utter a word more, for his voice was choked with sobs. Malcolm could just gather a few incoherent expressions—"benefactor"—"God bless him"—"eternal gratitude," or some such phrases.
"Tut, nonsense," returned Malcolm testily; but his eyes were not quite clear, and he laid a kindly hand on the boy's shoulder. "I want no thanks, only you must promise me, on your word as an English gentleman, never to play for money as long as you are here."
"I promise—I will vow if you like—there is nothing—nothing that I would not promise you. Mr. Herrick, you have saved me from disgrace, and Dinah from a broken heart."