A Terrible Tomboy Part 31

'h.e.l.lo!' cried Bobby suddenly, pausing in his task of uprooting a giant dock. '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 strange procession that was slowly straggling from the great gate towards the front-door. There were gentlemen, young, old and middle-aged, some in tourist tweeds, some in boating flannels, and some in sober black, most of them with books or road-maps in their hands, while a sprinkling of ladies, both grave and frivolous, in light summer costumes and with gay parasols, completed the party. That they were on an errand of pleasure was evident, for there was a tolerable amount of laughing and talking, while all appeared to be taking stock of the house and surroundings with considerable interest.

'Whatever can they want?' said Peggy, who certainly had never seen the Abbey invaded by such an alarming number of callers before. 'They look as if they were going to take the place by storm!'

After a short parley at the door, the visitors were conducted by Nancy to the side-gate, where they all filed into the ruins, from whence a lively hum of conversation could plainly be heard.

'I vote we go and see what they're after,' said Bobby, his curiosity getting the better of him; and, abandoning the weeds, the children ran round by the kitchen garden into the house.

'Did ye ever see the like?' said Nancy, as they catechized that giggling maiden for information. 'They calls themselves "The Welsh Borders Society of Antiquaries," so they sez. It's got the name on this little paper as they've left, and they comes to the door wantin' master's permission to look at the ruins. I sez he ain't in, but I asks Miss Lilian, and she tells 'em "Yes," and there they all is, pokin' about amongst the nettles, and grubbin' up stones, and stickin' bits of mortar in their pockets, and dodgin' about with yard measures, for all the world like a set of lunatics. What they can find to look at pa.s.ses me, for there's nought there but the walls and stones. And it seems they've come 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 Monday in the Spa Gardens, with the Grenadier Band, and the variety company down from Lunnon, too!'

'But the ruins are tremendously interesting, Nancy; I don't wonder people 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 Master Bobby, now, always a-collecting of stones and insects and like rubbish to litter up the Rose Parlour, and I suppose some grown folk is as foolish 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 it wouldn't be my taste if I was a lady born.'

'Come along, Bobby,' said Peggy, 'we'll go into the ruins, and see what these people are doing. Miss Crossland has often talked about the Antiquarian Society in the history lessons at school, and I always wanted 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 sepulchral slabs, 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 upon strangers, the children followed the party into the ruins, and creeping under the protecting shelter of some bushes, found they could take quite a good view of the proceeding un.o.bserved. The antiquarians did not seem to be discussing anything very learned just at present, for they had drawn out flasks, and packets of sandwiches, and were engaged in picnicking upon the stones in a truly modern fas.h.i.+on, while occasional bursts of laughter were wafted along the air.

'It looks jolly fun. I wish they'd ask us to join them!' whispered Bobby.

'I don't see Miss Crossland there,' returned Peggy. 'But perhaps she's away for Whitsuntide. They certainly seem to be having a good time.'

To enjoy an _al fresco_ meal, however, was evidently not the main business of the society, for the members soon disposed of their refreshments, and began to collect in little groups round a learned-looking gentleman, who, with a bundle of papers in his hand, seemed clearing his throat in preparation for giving an address. The children could hear most of what he said, and a very interesting account of the Abbey it proved to be, with a description of the size and extent of the old buildings, and the life led by the ancient monks, which quite delighted Peggy, who revelled in Scott's novels and historical stories, and which made the past days rise up so clearly before her that she could almost fancy the bell ringing for vespers, and hear the rustle of the gray robes of the friars as they pa.s.sed silently up the chancel to their stalls in the choir. The members seemed to take copious notes in pocket-books, and asked occasional questions, one literary-looking lady, in spectacles and a large black hat with nodding feathers, being particularly insistent, and volunteering so much information that she threatened to usurp the place of the lecturer, and had to be gently suppressed, while an old gentleman distributed pamphlets broadcast, declaring he had had them specially printed for the occasion. The speeches were over at length, and a last farewell round of the ruins having been made, the society finally took its departure, with the intention of viewing the church, and an injunction for all the members to a.s.semble for tea at the Bluebell Arms at half-past four precisely.

As the last pink parasol and straw hat disappeared through the little gate, Peggy and Bobby emerged from their retirement, somewhat stiff and cramped, and were just about to give vent to a wild war-whoop as some slight relief to their pent-up feelings when they noticed that after all they were not alone. Two antiquarians had remained behind, so evidently fascinated with their surroundings that they lingered about, measuring the walls with a yard-tape, and putting down the items in well-worn pocket-books. One of them was a singular-looking old gentleman, small and thin, with a clean-shaven face and a scholarly stoop. Seemingly he thought considerably more of his books than of such details as his toilet, for there was a very large expanse of gray sock visible above his dusty shoes, and his limp s.h.i.+rt-front looked guiltless of starch. In spite of the heat of the day, he wore two overcoats, one above the other, and the pockets of both were filled to overflowing with pamphlets and papers. He kept a fragment of pencil continually in the corner of his mouth, like a cigar, and Peggy noticed that when he accidentally mislaid his pocket-book he jotted down notes upon his cuffs, as if it were quite an ordinary occurrence to use them in lieu of paper. The other old gentleman was stout and jovial-looking, with a full gray beard and whiskers, and an amazingly juvenile suit of tweeds. It was evident that his pitch of enthusiasm, or perhaps physical endurance, was not equal to that of his companion, for he panted with heat as he held the other end of the yard measure, and gave vent to occasional grunts of disapprobation as he toiled painfully to the tops of mounds to get bird's-eye views of the outlined cells, or take snap-shots of the remains of the windows and columns.

'Interesting, most interesting! Abounding at every yard with testimony of the past, and in some ways unique, and a valuable contribution to our list of early English abbeys. With your photographs, Sedgwick, we shall have ample material for our projected treatise, which I trust should be ready for the September issue of the _Archaeologian_'--and the little old gentleman sat down on a broken column, and pulled a sheaf of papers out of one of his many pockets.

'Warm work, though, Doctor,' replied the other, wiping his steaming brow. 'I believe I would sell my birthright for a tumbler of water. I wonder if they would give us some up at the house. There does not seem to be a spring or anything about here.'

'You will be having tea soon,' said he of the two overcoats unsympathetically, 'and I am most anxious to compare your notes and measurements with my own. This is such a favourable opportunity that I think we had better seize the occasion while we are on the spot to make fresh observations in case of any discrepancies in our descriptions.'

The stout man seemed to comply unwillingly, and the friends were soon immersed in calculations, quite unaware of the two pairs of watchful eyes close by which had taken in the whole situation.

'I'm sorry for that fat man,' whispered Bobby. 'He looks as if he were ready to melt. The way he pounded up and down those mounds made me hot to watch him.'

'Poor old fellow! You'd think the other would be hot, too, in two overcoats! I declare I shall go in and fetch them some milk!' cried Peggy, starting up impulsively. 'You can stay, if you like, and tell them I'm bringing it.'

But bashful Bobby distinctly objected to accost strangers, and preferred to follow her in the direction of the house, offering to act scout while she did the foraging. Not being quite certain how her efforts at hospitality might be received at headquarters, Peggy watched Nancy successfully out of the way, and das.h.i.+ng into the dairy, emerged presently with a jug of milk and two gla.s.ses perilously balanced on a tray, which she nearly upset in her efforts to elude the returning deity of the kitchen.

'You can go first, Bobby,' she suggested, as she struggled with her burden through the side-gate, 'and say "Good-afternoon," and "Would they like some milk?" and then I can offer them the tray.'

'Well, I like that, when it was your idea altogether! No, thank you, I don't care to be in it!'--and meanly deserting at the last moment, Bobby fled into the sanctuary of the garden, leaving Peggy to carry her refreshments to the ruins alone.

I think if it had not been for the fact that she knew Bobby was peeping at her from over the wall, Peggy would have turned tail too, but as it was, she felt bound to carry out her project, and under the fire of his laughing eyes she walked st.u.r.dily towards the strangers. She had thought of at least three pretty speeches to make for the occasion, but when it came to the point she could not remember any of them, and could only hold out the tray, blus.h.i.+ng very much, and saying nothing at all. The old gentlemen looked so surprised at the sudden apparition before them that the numerous books and papers fell to the ground in wild confusion.

'Hebe, surely!' said the stout gentleman, with a little bow. 'Is this nectar which you are offering us, fair nymph? Doctor, this is indeed a G.o.dsend! Allow me to pour you out a gla.s.s of this beverage. Ah! nectar indeed!'--as he set down his empty tumbler. 'I feel refreshed and invigorated. May I ask if it is the sprite of the ruins to whom we are indebted for this bounty?'

Rather taken aback by his bantering tone, Peggy was at a loss what to answer, but the other old gentleman, noticing her confusion, came to the rescue.

'Many thanks, my dear, for your kindness,' he said, with stately, old-fas.h.i.+oned courtesy. 'We have much enjoyed the examination of your most interesting ruins, and if your Father had been at home to-day, I should have given myself the pleasure of thanking him in person. I shall make a point, however, of sending him a copy of my report in the _Archaeologian_, where I trust he will find many items of information respecting the origin and history of the Abbey with which perchance he may be unacquainted. By-the-by, may I ask if any curiosities have ever been 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 funny old box.'

'_What!_' cried the old gentleman, bouncing up in his excitement like an indiarubber 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 the discovery,' 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 enjoying herself now that she had once broken the ice. 'It was something much queerer than that--a wooden box full of old books, with writing you can't read, and strange little pictures all round the pages.'

'And what have you done with them? Where are they? Can you show them to me?' 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 valuable discovery!'--and stuffing his papers into his capacious pockets, the old gentleman started off with impatient strides, bearing his stout friend in his wake like a little tug towing a steamer.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "SEDGWICK, THIS IS AN EXTRAORDINARY DAY!"]

Peggy often laughed afterwards when she remembered how she escorted the pair up the rickety steps into the granary, and prevented them from falling through the trap-door into the stable below, and guided them between the sacks of grain in the dark loft, where, flinging open the wooden shutter, she let in a stream of sunlight, and disclosed to view the ancient chest.

'A curious piece of workmans.h.i.+p, Sedgwick! Saxon undoubtedly, I should say.'

'I agree with you, Doctor. Shall I lift the lid?'

'By all means. Ah! what have we here?'--and the little man squatted down on a sack of oats, and lifted out one of the books with the reverent touch 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 of the Saxon chronicle, and will make a sensation in the antiquarian world.'

'There is something here which looks like a copy of the Gospels,'

replied the other, who had been turning over the contents of the chest with much interest. 'And there seem to be some exquisite breviaries and "Hours of the Virgin." Just see this illuminated border. It reminds me of 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 of her favourites. 'Look at this. It seems as if it were made of lead, with little pieces of coloured gla.s.s stuck in it.'

'Lead! Coloured gla.s.s!' chuckled the old gentleman. 'My dear child, let me tell you this is antique silver, set with jewels. Wait till you see it cleaned!'