I waited in vain for any sign of response from Tempest. The Philosophers went down during the afternoon to watch him training for his race; but he vouchsafed us no regard, and, for all I knew, still put me down as a thief and a sharper. Dicky, whom I met later on, explained that he had failed to catch Tempest in his study, but had deposited the articles along with the letter on his table, so that, if he did not know of them yet, he soon would.
My anxiety was not at all allayed by a casual encounter with Crofter in the evening. He summoned me into his study, where I saw my billet-doux lying on the table.
“I suppose you wrote this?” said he.
“Yes.”
“And you think everything’s clear now, do you?”
“Isn’t it?” said I.
“I dare say Dr England will be able to tell you. By the way, why did you only give me 2 shillings 6 pence change instead of 3 shillings 6 pence?”
“There was only 2 shillings 6 pence to give.”
“Really? I thought so too till your clever management of the tips tempted me to look over the bills again. I see that what you paid only came to £4 16 shillings 6 pence, instead of £4 17 shillings 6 pence. I don’t want the other shilling, but hope you bought yourself something nice with it. You must consider it a present from Tempest, not me.”
I timed red and white in the sudden confusion of that announcement. I was positively certain 2 shillings 6 pence had been the change, and that if there was any mistake it must be on the part of the tradesmen, not me. But how was I likely to convince Crofter, or, for the matter of that, Tempest, that such was the case?