“Oh, of course, that's the form. That only means that he can't pinch us sooner.”
“I do hope, though, Drysdale, that it will be paid on the day,” said Tom, who could not quite swallow the notion of forfeiting his word, even though it were only a promise to pay to a scoundrel.
“All right. You've nothing to do with it, remember. He won't bother you. Besides, you can plead infancy, if the worst comes to the worst. There's such a queer old bird gone to your friend Hardy's rooms.”
The mention of Hardy broke the disagreeable train of thought into which Tom was falling, and he listened eagerly as Drysdale went on.
“It was about half an hour ago. I was looking out here, and saw an old fellow come hobbling into quad on two sticks, in a shady blue uniform coat and white trousers. The kind of old boy you read about in books, you know. Commodore Trunnion, or Uncle Toby, or one of that sort. Well, I watched him backing and filling about the quad, and trying one staircase and another; but there was nobody about. So down I trotted and went up to him for fun, and to see what he was after. It was as good as a play, if you could have seen it. I was ass enough to take off my cap and make a low bow as I came up to him, and he pulled off his uniform cap in return, and we stood there bowing to one another. He was a thorough old gentleman, and I felt rather foolish for fear that he should see that I expected a lark when I came out. But I don't think he had an idea of it, and only set my capping him down to the wonderful good manners of the college. So we got quite thick, and I piloted him across to Hardy's staircase in the back quad. I wanted him to come up and quench, but he declined, with many apologies. I'm sure he is a character.”
“He must be Hardy's father,” said Tom.
“I shouldn't wonder. But is his father in the navy?”
“He is a retired captain.”
“Then no doubt you're right. What shall we do? Have a hand at picquet. Some men will be here directly. Only for love.”
Tom declined the proffered game, and went off soon after to his own rooms, a happier man than he had been since his first night at “The Choughs.”