The Closed Book: Concerning the Secret of the Borgias Part 23

"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 antic.i.p.ated; 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 quant.i.ty of damp and bulky leather-bound volumes, evidently ancient religious ma.n.u.scripts 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 G.o.dfrey 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 ma.n.u.scripts 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 gra.s.s they placed their lanterns beside it, and with their pocket-knives sc.r.a.ped away the clay until it shone bright beneath.

"There was a celebrated image of Our Lady, in silver, here," remarked Selby, as he sc.r.a.ped diligently. "Perhaps this is it."

A few seconds later the thick-set man who was a.s.sisting, 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 sc.r.a.ped 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 s.n.a.t.c.hing 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 ma.n.u.scripts 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 pa.s.sing, 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 ma.n.u.script, beautifully ill.u.s.trated, 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 surrept.i.tiously carried away.

At present, however, it was agreed to make no sign. The ma.n.u.scripts 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.

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

A DISCOVERY IN HARPUR STREET.

At two o'clock that afternoon we were back in Dover Street, utterly f.a.gged out by our long night watch among the rank gra.s.s and nettles of the damp fenland.

It seemed certain that the quartette had returned to London by the early train from Thorney or from Peterborough, and had carried back with them the ma.n.u.scripts they had found; therefore, curiosity prompted Wyman to go forth about four o'clock, in order to try and discover something regarding Lord Glenelg's movements.

When we parted in Piccadilly I went on to the British Museum, for I had been wondering if anything might be preserved there that would give me an accurate ground-plan of Crowland Abbey before its dissolution. If only I could get that I should be able to fix the exact spot where the carp ponds once existed.