From our hiding-place in the bushes we all three watched intently,
wondering what was the nature of their find.
That they had discovered something of interest seemed certain, but from
our position we could not see its nature. The whole four were in the
deep hole, working eagerly and digging around what was apparently a
strong chest buried in the earth.
The moments seemed hours, until at last, with loud gasps, they drew the
object to the surface, and their lamps revealed it to be an old chest
about five feet long, narrow, and looking in that uncertain light very
much like a coffin. But it was, we saw, strongly protected by great
bands of iron bolted upon it, and locked by three ancient locks along
one side.
"By Jove!" we heard Selby cry excitedly, "it's heavy, isn't it? Let's
get these locks off," and, taking aim, he struck at one with his
crowbar, using all his might. But the stout iron resisted all his
efforts, although he repeated them from time to time.
Then the four turned their immediate attention to the locks, carefully
examining them by the aid of their lamps.
"They're still very strong," we heard his lordship say. "The only way
will be to file the hasps, and then force them."
Thereupon two files were produced from the tool-bag, and Graniani and
Selby set to work upon the hasps, while the other two stood by
impatiently.
The work was more difficult than they anticipated; but at last the whole
of the three fastenings were wrenched off, and, with a cry of
expectation, Lord Glenelg raised the lid, and, holding his lantern above
his head, peered within.
His companions, in their haste to investigate the contents of the chest,
bent and delved with their hands; but their exclamations were those of
bitter disappointment, for instead of gold chalices and silver cups,
they withdrew only a quantity of damp and bulky leather-bound volumes,
evidently ancient religious manuscripts which had formed part of the
treasure of the old abbey at the time of its dissolution. Perhaps,
indeed, they had been hidden for some reason long before those fateful
days of Southwell's visit, for the monk Godfrey did not mention them in
his detailed list of secreted treasure.
The disappointment of the investigators was very great. Above the low
chatter we could hear the old hunchback grumbling to himself in Italian,
while Selby expressed his dissatisfaction pretty strongly in English,
declaring that they were not in search of old books, but something of
more intrinsic value.
"These are evidently a rare find," remarked his lordship, opening
several of the big musty volumes and glancing at them. "But the damp,
unfortunately, seems to have spoilt most of the miniatures."
"The finding of that box makes one thing plain," Walter whispered to me.
"The abbot would never have buried a box of manuscripts in water,
therefore this discovery shows that the treasure itself does not lie
concealed in the same spot. Let them go on, for they must fail. In a
couple of hours it will be five o'clock, and the village people will be
astir. They dare not work very much longer, and they certainly will not
attempt to come here again."
"But those books," I said, with the envy of a keen collector; "are they
to secure them? They may, perhaps, contain something of interest to
us."
"I think not," my friend responded. "Let them take the lot. We are
playing for bigger stakes."
"Quite right, Captain Wyman," added the rector. "They must not discover
us at this point."
After a cursory glance at the big volumes, some of them fastened with
heavy bronze clasps, like The Closed Book itself, they ascertained that
there was nothing else in the chest, and then three of them returned to
their work of excavation, while his lordship commenced to carry the
books, in small piles, across the field to the high road where the horse
was tied up.
I confess that I would have liked to jump up and secure one of those
fine old tomes. I was only restrained by my friends, who were
determined, as a matter of policy, to let him cart them away, Mr Mason
declaring that in due course he should claim their return, as an
outrageous theft had been committed.
Lord Glenelg had made several journeys, backwards and forwards across
the fields, when, just as he returned, a stir among the treasure seekers
showed us that they had made another discovery, which, a few minutes
later, we saw was a fine image of the Virgin, about four feet in height,
dark and covered with the clay in which it had been embedded.
As it lay there upon the grass they placed their lanterns beside it, and
with their pocket-knives scraped away the clay until it shone bright
beneath.
"There was a celebrated image of Our Lady, in silver, here," remarked
Selby, as he scraped diligently. "Perhaps this is it."
A few seconds later the thick-set man who was assisting, and who was a
stranger to me, cried:
"It certainly isn't silver. Look! It's only one of those gilded wood
things."
And again there arose a chorus of dissatisfaction and disappointment.
The statue was evidently a very antique one; but so well had it been
preserved in the clay that the gilt still flashed upon it where they had
scraped away the dirt, and in the early grey of dawn that was now
spreading we could just distinguish the bright silver stars upon the
blue robes.
Again they all returned to their work with pick, spade, and "grubbers,"
toiling on in the hole they had made, their heads only being visible
above the surface, until the abbey bells chimed out, and then solemnly
struck five o'clock.
Day had broken, and the warning notes of the bell caused his lordship to
order a cessation of the labour. All four regarded the surface and
looked with regret upon their rather fruitless efforts, well knowing
that the damage they had done would, in an hour, be discovered, and that
to continue their secret search of the spot would be entirely
impossible.
"We can't return; that's very evident," remarked Selby. "The village
constable will be put on to watch, I expect. Therefore, we shall have
to wait a month or so before we come back."
"Couldn't we perhaps square the constable?" the fourth man suggested.
"I doubt it. These country policemen are so much more straight than the
men in town. As like as not, they'd split upon you, so as to get their
promotion. You see, the work we've done tonight is a bit ugly, for a
magistrate would probably call it stealing."
"Rubbish!" snapped his lordship. "Don't stay gossiping here. Let's
pack up and get away. There are a lot of labourers already on the move.
Don't you see the smoke from the cottage chimneys over there? We shall
have someone across this footpath to the fields in a minute if we don't
get clear away."
Scarcely, indeed, had he finished speaking when the dark figure of a
man, with a fork over his shoulder, whistling to himself on his way to
work, appeared at the stile at the opposite corner of the field, and
took the footpath in their direction.
They noticed him, and, hastily snatching up their picks and spades and
other tools, all four made off in the direction where the cart stood,
and, ascending into it, drove rapidly off down the long highway across
the fen, in the mists of which they were quickly lost to sight.
As soon as they had gone we emerged from the spot where we had remained
cramped for so long, and rushed to the big hole they had made.
My first investigation was the old chest, and in it I discovered several
manuscripts which his lordship, not having finished transferring them to
the cart, had been compelled, in his haste, to leave. Of these we took
possession, and the labourer, on passing, discovered the hole with
considerable surprise, especially on recognising Mr Mason.
In reply to the man's inquiry we told him that thieves had been trying
to discover something hidden and had found some old books, for we wished
the whole village to know of the secret attempt that had been made, in
order that the people should keep a watchful eye upon the abbey
precincts for further depredators.
Presently, when the man went on to his work, and it had grown lighter,
we were able to see the extent of their investigations, which was
certainly far greater than we imagined; while Walter, after making some
measurements, showed us the spot which they had at first marked out, and
from which he had removed their landmark.
The chest and books were, of course, the property of the abbey, so we
carried them to the small room in the restored portion of the fabric
that the rector kept as a kind of museum, and there investigated them.
They were of little interest, all being works of theological writers,
copied in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, save one [Cambridge
University Library MSS., Dd. XI. 78, ff. 61, 92.], a small quarto
manuscript, beautifully illustrated, written by William, a monk in
Ramsey Abbey, in Huntingdonshire, in 1191, which commenced "_Incipit
Vita beati Guthlaci metrice composita_," a poem on the life of St
Guthlac, dedicated to Henry de Longo Campo, the contemporary Abbot of
Crowland.
It was Mr Mason's opinion, as well as my own, that the chest had been
buried there fully a century before the dissolution, at some time when
the abbey feared attack, and the worthy rector was already eager to
demand of Lord Glenelg the return of the whole of the other volumes that
had been surreptitiously carried away.
At present, however, it was agreed to make no sign. The manuscripts
would, no doubt, be well preserved in his lordship's collection, and
there was no fear of their going astray.
Then, having completed our examination, we returned to the rectory,
where we had hot coffee to warm us after our night vigil. Mr Mason
promised to set a night watch upon the field until such time as we
should deem it advisable to make our search; for I pointed out to him
that a journey to Scotland was imperative, in order to forestall our
friends if they attempted to make a search there, and that we should be
unable to excavate the site of the monastery fish ponds until our return
from Galloway.
As a matter of fact, we all felt, from the conversation we had
overheard, that it was not their intention to return at present, as they
had no wish to fall into the hands of the police.
"Well," remarked Mr Mason, as we sat over our coffee in his study, "the
whole affair is most mysterious and remarkable. Lord Glenelg evidently
possesses certain information upon which he is working."
"We hope that ours is equally precise," I laughed. "That is why we
intend to go north and take preliminary observations. We can only make
our investigation at a certain hour on a certain day, the sixth of
September."
I was not more definite as I did not intend, at present, to give the
secret away. In a hunt for treasure success depends to a very great
extent upon strict secrecy. To arouse undue interest is always to be
avoided. The Crowland treasure concerned the rector to a great degree,
but the Borgia jewels would, if we discovered them, surely be our own.
At half-past seven we returned to "The George," which had already been
open an hour or so, and we went in as though we had returned from a
morning walk. Neither servants nor landlord suspected anything until
the villagers discovered the big hole near the abbey, and then, I
believe, we were viewed with considerable suspicion. Indeed, I was much
relieved when, at eleven o'clock, we drove out along Kennulph's Way and
through the village of Eye back to "The Angel," at Peterborough.