Читать книгу Below the Salt - Thomas B. Costain - Страница 22

Rawen Priory, lying close to one of the tributaries of the Thames, was not sought out greatly by tourists. Even the belief that Dunstan had been concerned in the building of it (although it was not at Rawen that he had caught the Devil’s nose in red-hot pincers), and that William the Conqueror had been responsible for closing it, did little to bring visitors. The Earl of Baudene had been charging a shilling for years but had barely cleared expenses.

The owner, in a flannel suit which actually had a tinge of pink to it, was standing at the entrance to the refectory when a party in cars came slowly down the dirt road.

“Odd,” he commented, being a man of few words.

“Why?” asked his sister, the Lady Birdie, who stood beside him.

“The name. O’Rawn and Rawen Priory.”

“Coincidence.”

The eyes of the earl clouded when he saw that there were three cars. “Swank,” he muttered.

“Nonsense.” Lady Birdie then indulged in a streak of loquacity by adding another word. “Workmen.”

She proved to be right. The first car contained Senator O’Rawn, John Foraday, Peterkin, and a rather famous antiquarian named Robert Underpeck. The other two disgorged workmen with picks and shovels, a photographer with a great deal of equipment, and a stenographer prepared to make notes.

When the necessary introductions had been made and they entered the refectory, the senator paused and looked about him with an air of astonishment and gratification. This ancient hall, where the monks had satisfied their appetites on the sparest fare, still boasted a roof in good condition. The stone floor was intact and it was clear that the walls had not suffered at the hands of restorers. Little remained of the steps leading up to the reader’s niche, despite the fact that the stand itself was in excellent condition.

“My lord,” said the senator to the peer, “these walls, which it is your great privilege to own, have more truth about the past concealed in them than a shelf of histories.”

With meticulous care he proceeded to pace off distances and then tapped with his foot on a large square stone.

“With your permission, my lord,” he said, “I’ll have them raise this one. But first, Mr. Photographer, I would like a picture of the stone before it was disturbed.”

The cement of time had settled the stone into place more securely than all the labor of monkish trowels could have achieved; and it took almost an hour of hard labor to raise it. When this had been accomplished, a yawning space leading down into a dark vault was revealed.

There was a slight quiver of excitement at the end of the nose of aristocracy. “Odd,” commented the peer.

The senator was staring intently into the darkness of the small space below. “I am very happy to observe,” he said, “that the steps have not crumbled away. I begin, in fact, to be quite optimistic about our quest.” He glanced over his shoulder at the antiquarian. “How long do you suppose it has been since this stone was raised last?”

Robert Underpeck gave the point some thought. “Several centuries, I expect,” he said finally.

“I agree with you, sir. In fact I shall be rather more explicit. Seven centuries.” The senator turned then to the earl. “There’s little room down there. I’ll be needed to decide where to attack the wall and that will leave just enough room for one of the men to swing a pick. Will you object to watching from here with the others?”

The earl had no objection, so the senator provided himself with a large lantern and went down the steps. John stood at the head with another torch while the antiquarian knelt on the stone floor and watched with the utmost interest.

The senator studied the walls and then pointed to one where the surface of a stone had been raised in the form of a cross. “The one above,” he said to the workman. “It’s not mortared in and I don’t believe you’ll have much difficulty in getting it out.”

“Just a moment,” said the antiquarian. “I desire to ask you a question, sir. What do you expect to find behind this stone?”

There was a long pause. When the senator finally spoke, there seemed to be a difference in his voice as well as in his choice of words and phrases. It could easily have been believed that someone else was speaking.

“Divers wonderful things,” he answered, almost in a whisper. “It will be found, good sirs, that behind the stone there is space enough to hold a small wooden chest. In the chest there was once a document; a paper, sirs, of such great use to men that its value was above that of gold and rubies and pearls. It is no longer there. A need arose for it and it was removed. A long time, a very long time ago.

“There was in the space also,” he went on, “a hoard. Of pennies. Not a great hoard, not the wealth of a landholding Norman thief, who could save by the thousands and still leave enough for chantry priests to pray in supplication for him for centuries. This was the hoard of a Saxon thane, and so a small one. There was also a ring, a plain gold band which was of small value save that it had been worn on a very special finger. There were other articles of less interest. But as to what is still there, I cannot say. Perhaps we will find nought but empty space.”

They had it open in short order. The senator plunged an arm into the cavity and then nodded up at John. “There’s something in there still,” he said, smiling and winking with excitement. “Let’s have that square of canvas.”

The canvas was held under the opening and all of the contents swept into it. The corners were then tied and the bundle handed up to those above. The senator followed it with eager steps.

The canvas was spread on the floor and Mr. Underpeck took charge of things. He first gathered the coins into one pile.

“Henry I,” he said, holding up a penny. “See the quatrefoil design on the reverse? Made by one Humphrey of Bristol. This one is Stephen’s. See the name, Stefi. Most of them are of Henry II’s coinage. They carry the Rex Ang. Ah, here’s one of the Conqueror, with the side-face portrait and the single cross fleury.”

“Not many,” commented the earl in a disappointed tone of voice.

“I warned you of that.” There was a moment’s silence and then the senator added: “Count them. I think you’ll find there are eleven hundred and fifty-six.”

The peer’s eyes seemed to pounce at him, as though saying, “Now we’ll have you.” He seated himself beside Mr. Underpeck and began to build the coins up in piles of ten. When this task had been completed, the antiquarian took a pencil from one of his pockets and made some calculations on the back of an envelope. He stared hard at the paper when a total was reached and then made a recount. He said. “Huh!” and looked up at the circle of faces above him.

“Eleven hundred and fifty-six,” he announced solemnly.

During the silence which followed this announcement the Earl of Baudene got to his feet. He confronted Richard O’Rawn.

“Magic?” he asked. “Like sawing the lady in half?”

“I’m not a magician.”

“You won’t deny,” said the antiquarian, looking up with the same puzzled expression on his face, “that you have some special source of information?”

“No, I don’t deny that. I have special sources of information.”

“Do you intend to tell us about it?”

Richard O’Rawn shook his head. “Not yet. A little later.”

The peer whispered in Underpeck’s ear. The latter then asked: “Would you object to giving the story out to the press? His lordship is anxious to have it printed.”

“Two shillings’ worth,” said the peer.

The senator smiled. “I think, sir, you will be justified if you double the entrance fee now.” He went down suddenly on one knee and reached into the dust and debris left on the canvas. He held up a band of tarnished gold and mused over it with reverence for a long time. “Yes, this is the ring I spoke of.” His voice fell to a whisper. “See how plain it is. And how thin!”

The earl reached out a hand for the ring, looked at it a moment, and then slipped it into a pocket of the pinkish flannel coat.

“Treasure it, my lord!” said the senator. “It is worth more than all the pennies minted by all the Norman kings. It belonged to a lady. A gracious and great lady.”