CHAPTER XXIII
THE ANTIQUARIAN SOCIETY
'Who comes to the ruin, the ivy-clad ruin, With old shaking arches, all moss-overgrown?'
May drew to a close with a burst of warm weather, and the Whitsuntideholidays promised to prove all that the heart of the cheap tripper mightdesire, though beyond a chance cyclist or two that article was asunknown as the dodo in quiet Gorswen, where fortunately the charms ofthe scenery had not yet been spoilt by picnic parties leaving greasysandwich papers and ginger-beer bottles in the woods, and demandingnoisy entertainment in the village, nor the youth of the neighbourhoodcorrupted into hanging round the public-house doors to listen to themirth and songs of the excursionists within, or offer faded bunches offlowers in exchange for halfpence. Gorswen, having taken its annualholiday at Easter, made no account of Whit-week, and went on with itswork as usual, for the agricultural labourer does not claim so much inthe way of pleasure as his brethren of the loom or the forge, and iscontent with an occasional fair or village feast to break the monotonyof his daily life.
Whit Monday was a holiday at school, however, and Peggy and Bobby,having the day at home, took a sudden fit of industry, and started toweed the shrubbery with the noble intention of having it raked over andtidied by teatime, being put somewhat on their mettle by Father'sremarks on the subject of sustained labour, and his laughing incredulitywhen they assured him he would find it all neatly finished when hereturned from Warford that evening. It was a warm day, and gardening isparticularly back-breaking work, but they toiled grimly away, neitherliking to be the first to give in, and soon began to make considerableheadway among the weeds.
'Hello!' cried Bobby suddenly, pausing in his task of uprooting a giantdock. 'Who on earth is all this crew coming up the drive? I say, Peggy,do come and look!'
Peggy was not sorry to find an excuse to fling down her hoe and basket,and she came scrambling up the bank just in time to witness the strangeprocession that was slowly straggling from the great gate towards thefront-door. There were gentlemen, young, old and middle-aged, some intourist tweeds, some in boating flannels, and some in sober black, mostof them with books or road-maps in their hands, while a sprinkling ofladies, both grave and frivolous, in light summer costumes and with gayparasols, completed the party. That they were on an errand of pleasurewas evident, for there was a tolerable amount of laughing and talking,while all appeared to be taking stock of the house and surroundings withconsiderable interest.
'Whatever can they want?' said Peggy, who certainly had never seen theAbbey invaded by such an alarming number of callers before. 'They lookas if they were going to take the place by storm!'
After a short parley at the door, the visitors were conducted by Nancyto the side-gate, where they all filed into the ruins, from whence alively hum of conversation could plainly be heard.
'I vote we go and see what they're after,' said Bobby, his curiositygetting the better of him; and, abandoning the weeds, the children ranround by the kitchen garden into the house.
'Did ye ever see the like?' said Nancy, as they catechized that gigglingmaiden for information. 'They calls themselves "The Welsh BordersSociety of Antiquaries," so they sez. It's got the name on this littlepaper as they've left, and they comes to the door wantin' master'spermission to look at the ruins. I sez he ain't in, but I asks MissLilian, and she tells 'em "Yes," and there they all is, pokin' aboutamongst the nettles, and grubbin' up stones, and stickin' bits of mortarin their pockets, and dodgin' about with yard measures, for all theworld like a set of lunatics. What they can find to look at passes me,for there's nought there but the walls and stones. And it seems they'vecome all the way from Warford in waggonettes. Just think of that, now!Only to look at a few old ruins, when they might 'a' spent Whit Mondayin the Spa Gardens, with the Grenadier Band, and the variety companydown from Lunnon, too!'
'But the ruins are tremendously interesting, Nancy; I don't wonderpeople want to come and look at them. Just think how old they are!'
'Well, the gentry has queer tastes, I will allow. There's you and MasterBobby, now, always a-collecting of stones and insects and like rubbishto litter up the Rose Parlour, and I suppose some grown folk is asfoolish as children over such things. However, it's live and let live,and if they care to take their pleasure that way, let 'em, although itwouldn't be my taste if I was a lady born.'
'Come along, Bobby,' said Peggy, 'we'll go into the ruins, and see whatthese people are doing. Miss Crossland has often talked about theAntiquarian Society in the history lessons at school, and I alwayswanted to see one of the meetings.'
'Ay, do,' said Nancy, 'and if you can make head or tail of their talk,it's more than I can. One of 'em asked me if there was any sepulchralslabs, and it turned out she only meant tombstones after all. She could'a got plenty o' they in Warford Cemetery, without coming this distance,I reckon.'
Feeling rather shy, and not liking to intrude their presence uponstrangers, the children followed the party into the ruins, and creepingunder the protecting shelter of some bushes, found they could take quitea good view of the proceeding unobserved. The antiquarians did not seemto be discussing anything very learned just at present, for they haddrawn out flasks, and packets of sandwiches, and were engaged inpicnicking upon the stones in a truly modern fashion, while occasionalbursts of laughter were wafted along the air.
'It looks jolly fun. I wish they'd ask us to join them!' whisperedBobby.
'I don't see Miss Crossland there,' returned Peggy. 'But perhaps she'saway for Whitsuntide. They certainly seem to be having a good time.'
To enjoy an _al fresco_ meal, however, was evidently not the mainbusiness of the society, for the members soon disposed of theirrefreshments, and began to collect in little groups round alearned-looking gentleman, who, with a bundle of papers in his hand,seemed clearing his throat in preparation for giving an address. Thechildren could hear most of what he said, and a very interesting accountof the Abbey it proved to be, with a description of the size and extentof the old buildings, and the life led by the ancient monks, which quitedelighted Peggy, who revelled in Scott's novels and historical stories,and which made the past days rise up so clearly before her that shecould almost fancy the bell ringing for vespers, and hear the rustle ofthe gray robes of the friars as they passed silently up the chancel totheir stalls in the choir. The members seemed to take copious notes inpocket-books, and asked occasional questions, one literary-looking lady,in spectacles and a large black hat with nodding feathers, beingparticularly insistent, and volunteering so much information that shethreatened to usurp the place of the lecturer, and had to be gentlysuppressed, while an old gentleman distributed pamphlets broadcast,declaring he had had them specially printed for the occasion. Thespeeches were over at length, and a last farewell round of the ruinshaving been made, the society finally took its departure, with theintention of viewing the church, and an injunction for all the membersto assemble for tea at the Bluebell Arms at half-past four precisely.
As the last pink parasol and straw hat disappeared through the littlegate, Peggy and Bobby emerged from their retirement, somewhat stiff andcramped, and were just about to give vent to a wild war-whoop as someslight relief to their pent-up feelings when they noticed that after allthey were not alone. Two antiquarians had remained behind, so evidentlyfascinated with their surroundings that they lingered about, measuringthe walls with a yard-tape, and putting down the items in well-wornpocket-books. One of them was a singular-looking old gentleman, smalland thin, with a clean-shaven face and a scholarly stoop. Seemingly hethought considerably more of his books than of such details as histoilet, for there was a very large expanse of gray sock visible abovehis dusty shoes, and his limp shirt-front looked guiltless of starch. Inspite of the heat of the day, he wore two overcoats, one above theother, and the pockets of both were filled to overflowing with pamphletsand papers. He kept a fragment of pencil continually in the corner ofhis mouth, like a cigar, and Peggy noticed that when he accidentallymislaid his pocket-
book he jotted down notes upon his cuffs, as if itwere quite an ordinary occurrence to use them in lieu of paper. Theother old gentleman was stout and jovial-looking, with a full gray beardand whiskers, and an amazingly juvenile suit of tweeds. It was evidentthat his pitch of enthusiasm, or perhaps physical endurance, was notequal to that of his companion, for he panted with heat as he held theother end of the yard measure, and gave vent to occasional grunts ofdisapprobation as he toiled painfully to the tops of mounds to getbird's-eye views of the outlined cells, or take snap-shots of theremains of the windows and columns.
'Interesting, most interesting! Abounding at every yard with testimonyof the past, and in some ways unique, and a valuable contribution to ourlist of early English abbeys. With your photographs, Sedgwick, we shallhave ample material for our projected treatise, which I trust should beready for the September issue of the _Archaeologian_'--and the little oldgentleman sat down on a broken column, and pulled a sheaf of papers outof one of his many pockets.
'Warm work, though, Doctor,' replied the other, wiping his steamingbrow. 'I believe I would sell my birthright for a tumbler of water. Iwonder if they would give us some up at the house. There does not seemto be a spring or anything about here.'
'You will be having tea soon,' said he of the two overcoatsunsympathetically, 'and I am most anxious to compare your notes andmeasurements with my own. This is such a favourable opportunity that Ithink we had better seize the occasion while we are on the spot to makefresh observations in case of any discrepancies in our descriptions.'
The stout man seemed to comply unwillingly, and the friends were soonimmersed in calculations, quite unaware of the two pairs of watchfuleyes close by which had taken in the whole situation.
'I'm sorry for that fat man,' whispered Bobby. 'He looks as if he wereready to melt. The way he pounded up and down those mounds made me hotto watch him.'
'Poor old fellow! You'd think the other would be hot, too, in twoovercoats! I declare I shall go in and fetch them some milk!' criedPeggy, starting up impulsively. 'You can stay, if you like, and tellthem I'm bringing it.'
But bashful Bobby distinctly objected to accost strangers, and preferredto follow her in the direction of the house, offering to act scout whileshe did the foraging. Not being quite certain how her efforts athospitality might be received at headquarters, Peggy watched Nancysuccessfully out of the way, and dashing into the dairy, emergedpresently with a jug of milk and two glasses perilously balanced on atray, which she nearly upset in her efforts to elude the returning deityof the kitchen.
'You can go first, Bobby,' she suggested, as she struggled with herburden through the side-gate, 'and say "Good-afternoon," and "Wouldthey like some milk?" and then I can offer them the tray.'
'Well, I like that, when it was your idea altogether! No, thank you, Idon't care to be in it!'--and meanly deserting at the last moment, Bobbyfled into the sanctuary of the garden, leaving Peggy to carry herrefreshments to the ruins alone.
I think if it had not been for the fact that she knew Bobby was peepingat her from over the wall, Peggy would have turned tail too, but as itwas, she felt bound to carry out her project, and under the fire of hislaughing eyes she walked sturdily towards the strangers. She had thoughtof at least three pretty speeches to make for the occasion, but when itcame to the point she could not remember any of them, and could onlyhold out the tray, blushing very much, and saying nothing at all. Theold gentlemen looked so surprised at the sudden apparition before themthat the numerous books and papers fell to the ground in wild confusion.
'Hebe, surely!' said the stout gentleman, with a little bow. 'Is thisnectar which you are offering us, fair nymph? Doctor, this is indeed agodsend! Allow me to pour you out a glass of this beverage. Ah! nectarindeed!'--as he set down his empty tumbler. 'I feel refreshed andinvigorated. May I ask if it is the sprite of the ruins to whom we areindebted for this bounty?'
Rather taken aback by his bantering tone, Peggy was at a loss what toanswer, but the other old gentleman, noticing her confusion, came to therescue.
'Many thanks, my dear, for your kindness,' he said, with stately,old-fashioned courtesy. 'We have much enjoyed the examination of yourmost interesting ruins, and if your Father had been at home to-day, Ishould have given myself the pleasure of thanking him in person. Ishall make a point, however, of sending him a copy of my report in the_Archaeologian_, where I trust he will find many items of informationrespecting the origin and history of the Abbey with which perchance hemay be unacquainted. By-the-by, may I ask if any curiosities have everbeen found while ploughing in these fields?'
'Not when they were ploughing,' said Peggy, finding her voice at last.'But when we were digging last Easter here in the ruins we found a funnyold box.'
'_What!_' cried the old gentleman, bouncing up in his excitement like anindiarubber ball. 'You actually found something _here_, in the Abbey,when digging? Sedgwick, do you hear that?'
The stout man smiled appreciatively.
'Perhaps our fair nymph will kindly describe the nature of thediscovery,' he suggested.
'There was a big old stone box first,' began Peggy.
'A stone coffin!' gasped the old gentleman.
'But there weren't any bones inside,' continued Peggy, rather enjoyingherself now that she had once broken the ice. 'It was something muchqueerer than that--a wooden box full of old books, with writing youcan't read, and strange little pictures all round the pages.'
'And what have you done with them? Where are they? Can you show them tome?' cried the enthusiastic antiquarian, almost dancing with eagerness.
'They're in the loft. I'll take you if you'd like to look at them.'
'Come along, Sedgwick; I believe we may be on the verge of a valuablediscovery!'--and stuffing his papers into his capacious pockets, the oldgentleman started off with impatient strides, bearing his stout friendin his wake like a little tug towing a steamer.
"SEDGWICK, THIS IS AN EXTRAORDINARY DAY!"]
Peggy often laughed afterwards when she remembered how she escorted thepair up the rickety steps into the granary, and prevented them fromfalling through the trap-door into the stable below, and guided thembetween the sacks of grain in the dark loft, where, flinging open thewooden shutter, she let in a stream of sunlight, and disclosed to viewthe ancient chest.
'A curious piece of workmanship, Sedgwick! Saxon undoubtedly, I shouldsay.'
'I agree with you, Doctor. Shall I lift the lid?'
'By all means. Ah! what have we here?'--and the little man squatted downon a sack of oats, and lifted out one of the books with the reverenttouch of the true collector.
'Unique! unique!' he cried, rubbing his hands with delight. 'Sedgwick,this is indeed a find! If I do not mistake, this is a genuine portion ofthe Saxon chronicle, and will make a sensation in the antiquarianworld.'
'There is something here which looks like a copy of the Gospels,'replied the other, who had been turning over the contents of the chestwith much interest. 'And there seem to be some exquisite breviaries and"Hours of the Virgin." Just see this illuminated border. It reminds meof the "Book of Kells."'
'The same period, doubtless. Sedgwick, this is an extraordinary day!Such a discovery only comes once in a lifetime!'
'Some of the bindings are queer, too,' put in Peggy, hunting out one ofher favourites. 'Look at this. It seems as if it were made of lead, withlittle pieces of coloured glass stuck in it.'
'Lead! Coloured glass!' chuckled the old gentleman. 'My dear child, letme tell you this is antique silver, set with jewels. Wait till you seeit cleaned!'
'Jewels in the back of an old book!' gasped Peggy, astonished in herturn. 'How did they get there? Is it really true?'
'Certainly. Many of the books in old times had covers of enormous value.The ancient Abbey no doubt was a rich one, and much of their wealthwould be devoted to their library.'
'Then if these are really precious stones,' said Peggy, 'I suppose theywill be worth something. Father said he was afraid the old boo
ks were ofno value except to people who were fond of such things. We were waitingtill our Rector came home to look at them.'
'They are of the utmost value, my dear, not only for the jewelledcovers, but for the rare contents and illuminations, which are of a typemost scarce and precious. I have not had time to go through the wholecontents of the chest, but I should say if these books were put up atChristie's they would realize many thousands of pounds. With yourFather's permission, I should like to send down an expert from theBodleian to examine them.'
'There will be keen bidding with the British Museum if they are put upfor sale,' remarked the stout gentleman.
'It would be a most exciting occasion. I should make a point of beingpresent in person, and use all my influence to secure them for Oxford.There would probably be representatives bidding from all the principallibraries and museums in the kingdom, not to mention the United Statesand the Continent.'
'But, please, do the books really belong to Father?' asked Peggy, whodid not quite understand this conversation.
'Certainly, if your Father is the legal owner of the property. No oneelse can lay the slightest claim to them, and I congratulate him on thevalue of his prize.'
'Then--would it be--would it be possible for Father to get the money forthem--soon?' faltered Peggy, blushing scarlet at putting such aquestion.
'Without doubt it would. If he should wish to realize them at once, thesale could be pushed on in a few weeks, only time should be allowed forthe Americans to hear of them, as they always run prices up. Ifagreeable to your Father, I will call to-morrow morning and discuss thesubject with him, and in the meantime I can only beg that all possiblecare will be taken of these priceless treasures. The chest seems securefrom any ravages of rats or mice. Still, I should advise its beingcarried into the house without further delay. You agree with me,Sedgwick?'
'Certainly; it is wiser to run no risks. By-the-by'--looking at hiswatch--'may I remind you, Doctor, that our waggonettes are due to startat five o'clock, and it is already half-past. I fear the members of ourparty will be awaiting us with some impatience at the Bluebell Arms.'
'Dear me,' said the old gentleman, 'I fear I am sadly forgetful! In thesociety of such enthralling interests I have no conception of the flightof time. To-morrow morning, then, my dear, if your Father will be atliberty, I shall give myself the pleasure of calling upon him;' andregretfully closing the lid, he tore himself away from the old chest,like a reluctant lover from his mistress, and took his departure,leaving Peggy, nearly wild with excitement, to rush tumultuously intothe house with her wonderful piece of news.