Dig the grave, and let him lie.
Glad did he live, and gladly die,
And he laid him down with a will.'
Rollo, now grown into a fine dog of a year old, remained Peggy's favourite among all her numerous pets. Though she had not again tried him for a bedfellow, he was still the companion of her walks, and the most winsome2 playmate on wet days, and Peggy firmly believed that he understood every word she said to him. He was growing clever with the sheep, too, and Father hoped to be able to train him into a really valuable collie, even hinting that he might in time gain a prize at the annual sheep-dog contests which were held for the district of Gorswen and the Welsh border. Peggy liked to see Rollo working with the sheep, the tips of his ears twitching3 and his faithful brown eyes bright with intelligence, as he cleverly sorted the lambs which Father had pointed4 out from the rest of the flock, and drove them neatly5 into the enclosure, coming up whimpering with pride for the praise which he knew awaited his efforts.
One lovely April morning Peggy started off alone, on the ostensible6 errand of going to pay half a crown[246] which was owing to old Williams, the mole-catcher, but the more real one of gathering7 primroses8 and hunting about for birds' nests. It was seldom that she was separated from Bobby, who was as constant as her shadow, but to-day he had preferred to stay and work in his garden, having many designs for its improvement, while the holidays were waning10 only too fast. Peggy had whistled for Rollo, but he was not to be found, and it was only when she was more than half-way down the pasture that he came racing11 after her as hard as he could tear, nearly knocking her down in the exuberance12 of his joy.
Instead of walking along the high-road, Peggy determined13 to take the path through the fields which skirted the preserves belonging to Lord Hazelford's estate, for the finest primroses grew at the edge of the wood, and the earliest bluebells14, and many a snug15 little nest might be found hidden away in those quiet hedgerows. It was a glorious morning, with the larks16 singing overhead and the thrushes trilling in the bushes, and that delicious smell of the earth which we often notice in early spring, and which makes the blood run through our veins17 like rising sap. The trees were clothed with the pale, tender green of April, and a cuckoo, the first of the year, flew out of the copse, and, cuckooing loudly, sped over to where the larch-trees were bursting out into a crowd of tassels18. Peggy had no pocket in her dress, but she turned the half-crown in her hand for good luck, and hoped it might answer the same purpose. Rollo was almost as happy as his mistress. He poked19 his nose into all the rabbit-burrows, he chased the birds, and dug holes for rats, and generally behaved as if he were a puppy again, instead of a sedate20, grown-up dog, snapping at the flies, and standing21 over Peggy wagging his tail in[247] approval, while she gathered violets and wood-anemones.
The path which Peggy was following ran along a lane with the wood on one side and a tall hedge on the other. It was a lonely spot, for there was not even a farmhouse22 in sight, and as it was only a by-road it was very seldom frequented, even by the country people. As she swung the gate open, and passed from the field into the lane, she saw a sight which for a moment made her hang back doubtfully, for a tramp lay stretched out full length asleep in the sunshine, his tattered23 clothes and broken boots a strange contrast to the bed of white daisies and celandine upon which he lay. Peggy was not generally afraid of poor people, but even in sleep this man had an evil, hang-dog look about his face, which might have warned many an older person to give him a wide berth24. She stood for a little while with the gate in her hand, hesitating whether to go forward or not, then, thinking she could probably pass him quietly without waking him, she walked on, treading on tip-toe. But he could not have been so fast asleep as she supposed, for he sprang up as she neared him, and casting a swift glance round to see whether she were accompanied or alone, held out his hand, and begged for money.
'I have none to give you,' said Peggy, trying to pass him by; but he stood over the path before her with a blustering25 air.
'No money! What's that in your hand?' he said roughly.
Peggy put her hand under her dress, and tried to beat a retreat to the gate.
'Now then!' cried the man, with a horrible oath, 'none of your slinking off! You give me what you[248] have there, or I'll break every bone in your body, and worse! Here! Hand it over, quick!'
He came a step nearer, but at that moment there was a rush and a rustle26, and Rollo bounded like an arrow through the gate, and flew at his throat. The two rolled over together, and Peggy clung trembling to the gatepost as she watched the confused heap at her feet, Rollo scratching, snarling27, and biting like a wild beast, and the tramp kicking, fighting, and swearing in a way which made her blood go cold to hear. She was too terrified to run away, and could only stand there, a breathless witness of the scuffle. Now the dog had the mastery, and now the man, as each panted and fought for his life; but at length something bright gleamed in the sunlight, there was a cry of agony, and Rollo lay in a pool of blood upon the grass. The tramp raised himself slowly up, and looked at Peggy. Peggy shrieked29, such a shriek28 of ghastly terror that it might have been heard a mile away, and mercifully it was heard, for there was an answering call from the wood, followed by a rustle of branches and dead leaves, and the keeper and his son burst through the thick undergrowth, and came scrambling30 over the fence, almost before the echo of her cry had died away. The tramp took to his heels, and was off down the lane with sturdy Harry31 Adams racing after him, in less time than it takes to tell it.
'After him, Hal!' yelled his father. 'Don't let the villain32 escape! Send a shot through his leg if he's gaining on you! Has the brute33 hurt you, Miss Vaughan?'—looking Peggy tenderly over to see that no damage was done.
Peggy shook her head, for speech seemed almost impossible at that moment, and she broke away from[249] the keeper's eager inquiries34 to kneel down by Rollo's side, trying vainly to staunch the crimson35 stream that was draining his life away. But Rollo was beyond the reach of help now. The poor beast made a feeble effort to raise himself up to greet his loved little mistress; he whined36, licked her hand, and with one last affectionate glance from his rapidly-glazing eyes, rolled over on his side—quite dead.
'He was a faithful friend, Peggy, for he laid down his life for you,' said Father later on in the day, when poor Rollo's body had been carried home to the stable, and the tramp safely lodged37 by Mr. Adams and Harry in Warford Gaol38, to await his trial for attempted highway robbery and assault.
Peggy had cried till her cheeks were purple and swollen39 and her eyes were only two aching slits40. She took her troubles hardly, and just at present it seemed to her as if life could never be quite the same again. Bobby, almost equally afflicted41, had the added trial of trying to conceal42 his grief, for he regarded tears as unmanly, and the result was a peculiar43 shortness and roughness of manner, with frequent rushings away to the barn when his feelings overcame him. Joe, whose sympathy could not have been more genuine if Peggy had lost a parent, hovered44 about all day, trying to console the bereaved45 pair, with small success, till towards evening a sudden flash of genius inspired him to suggest a funeral, perhaps his village experience teaching him that the bustle46 and preparation necessary for such a ceremony was the best safety-valve to work off sorrow.
'We might bury him among the ruins, Miss Peggy. There's a fine place round by the old abbot's house,[250] where the ground is soft, and we could dig easy; and I've a cousin in the slate-quarries at Bethogwen as has promised many a time to cut me a little tombstone as a present, if ever I was wantin' one, so I'll ask him to bring it next time he comes, and put Rollo's name on it, and the day, and as how he died defendin' you; and we'll fix it up nice, and plant flowers round, just as if it was the churchyard.'
Peggy sat up, and wiped her eyes with the corner of her damp pocket-handkerchief.
'He ought to be in the real churchyard,' she said chokily. 'If ever a dog deserved the Victoria Cross and a military funeral, it's Rollo!'
'Of course he will! I wonder you can ask such a question! Heaven wouldn't be heaven unless we found Rollo there! We'll wrap his body in the union Jack48, and pick all our best flowers to strew49 round him; and you might fire off your old pistol over his grave, if Father will let you have any gunpowder50—a parting salute51, you know, like they do for officers,' said Peggy, cheering up a little at the thought of arranging the obsequies.
Just at sunset the melancholy52 procession started off from the stable towards the ruins. Joe and Bobby were bearers, and carried between them the packing-case lid, draped with all the available flags that could be found, which bore what had once been poor Rollo. Peggy followed as chief mourner, her arms full of wreaths and flowers, and a piece of black crape, purloined53 from the scrap-bag, pinned conspicuously54 upon her hat. The place chosen was among the most perfect part of the old Abbey, not so much filled up with stones and rubbish as the[251] great refectory or the remains55 of the choir56. Tradition pointed it out as the abbot's house, and that name had clung to it through all the hundreds of years since the busy monks57 had lived and worked there.
'Suppose you dig just here, Joe,' cried Peggy, selecting a spot where a blackthorn was bursting forth58 into a sheet of white blossom and the primroses were yellowest and best.
Joe moistened the palms of his hands in the orthodox fashion, and seizing the spade began to shovel59 away at the loose, light soil. He had dug about three feet deep when his spade struck against a smooth, flat stone, which, instead of coming out easily amongst the rubbish, seemed to extend for some way underneath60 the surface.
'It looks like a paving-stone, for all the world,' he said, sweeping61 the soil away from it with his hand. 'I'll dig out the earth all around it, and see what it do be.'
It took Joe a considerable time to clear the stone, though Bobby went to his aid with a trowel; but he got it free at last, and Peggy stooped down curiously62 to examine it.
'There are marks on it, like letters and queer figures, but they're all filled up with soil,' she said. 'It seems to me it's a kind of lid, and if you dig round the edge a little more, Joe, we might lift it up. It's rather like the cover of one of those old stone coffins63 in the churchyard, only smaller. I wonder if there is anything inside?'
Joe set to work again with a will, clearing out the earth well from under the side of the stone; then, putting his fingers beneath it, he gave a mighty65 jerk of his strong arms, and up it came, nearly upsetting[252] him with the force of the recoil66. Three eager faces peered anxiously down into what certainly looked like the inside of a small stone coffin64, but instead of containing mouldering67 bones, it held a good-sized chest of oak, bound with iron, rather rusted68 and crumbling69, but still holding quite firmly together.
'Lift it out, Joe!' cried Peggy, in such excitement that Rollo was almost forgotten for the moment. 'Whatever can be inside it?'
'It bean't no light weight, Miss Peggy, whatever it be' groaned70 Joe, for it was as much as he could manage to heave the heavy chest from its resting-place on to the grass above.
'There may be money and all sorts of treasures in it,' suggested Bobby. 'Perhaps the smugglers left it behind.'
'Nay71, this be older nor smugglers,' said Joe, with a glance at the solid workmanship and the quaint72 carving73 on the old lid, 'unless they made use of an old thing for their own purposes. Let be, Master Bobby, I can't do nothing with you hangin' over me like this!'
He had been fumbling74 with the ancient rusty75 lock while he spoke76, and it now broke away from the rotten woodwork. He flung back the heavy lid, and revealed—neither gold nor jewels, nothing but a pile of musty-looking old parchments and books. The children looked at each other in blank disappointment.
'There might be something underneath,' said Peggy, beginning to rummage77 the chest to the very bottom; but her hopes were soon dashed, for a further search did not bring anything more to light.
'How disgusting! Who cares for old books?' exclaimed Bobby, whose heart had been set on stolen jewels, smuggled78 valuables, or daggers79 and firearms at the least.
[253]'They're very funny ones, at any rate,' said Peggy, picking up one of the despised tomes. 'Just look at the backs. They're so thick and heavy. They seem to be made of metal of some kind, with little bits of coloured glass stuck into them; but they're terribly tarnished80 and dirty. I can't read the writing inside at all, and there are the queerest little pictures all round the edges of the pages.'
'What be I to do with the box?' asked Joe, gazing at their find in some perplexity. 'And be I to dig another hole for the burial, miss, or not?'
Her thoughts recalled to the melancholy occasion, Peggy flung down the book, and her grief broke forth anew.
'We'll bury him in the old stone coffin,' she declared. 'We'll line it with leaves and primroses, and then lay him in, and just drop on the lid again. I'm glad he should have a real coffin, after all, and the Abbey's almost as good as the churchyard, for Father says lots of the old monks must have been buried here, if we could only find their graves.'
Even Ophelia could not have chosen a more flowery resting-place, for the children covered poor Rollo with violets, primroses, and white sloe-blossom. Joe carefully replaced the lid, and shovelled81 on the soil again, heaping it up, and smoothing it with the flat of his spade, in imitation of the village sexton.
Father had refused to allow gunpowder, so the pistol was useless, but Peggy placed a wreath of white jonquils picked from her own garden upon the grave, and dropped so many tears over it that I do not think any dog could have been more truly mourned and regretted.
'You won't forget about the tombstone, will you, Joe?' she said, finding the prospect82 of a monument[254] to her pet decidedly consoling. 'I mean to make up a nice epitaph for him, in poetry if I can manage it—something about his being such a beauty, and then dying doing his duty, because that would rhyme.'
'Miss Peggy,' declared Joe solemnly, 'you shall have that there little tombstone, if I has to go without one myself. You write the words out plain on a piece of paper, and I'll walk over to Bethogwen the very next time I gets a holiday. You'll see my cousin will do it beautiful, havin' worked a year in a stonemason's yard, and being fond of a dog, too. He might even try his hand at a weepin' angel or a broken flower at the top, but I can't promise that, not knowin' whether he's kept his tools.'
The box containing the old manuscript was carried into the loft83 by Joe, and examined by Father at his leisure.
'I don't know much about this sort of thing, Peggy,' he said, 'but I should imagine they would be mostly old records and deeds of the Abbey. It is marvellous how well they are preserved, but the oak and the stone combined must have kept out the air, and parchment does not decay like paper. Valuable? Not from a money point of view, I am afraid; but no doubt they would prove very interesting to some antiquarian who could read them. We will keep them here until the Rector comes home again. I expect he will be delighted to look over them some day, and will tell us what they are all about.'
Mr. Vaughan had intended to write an account of the find to the local newspaper, but in the hurry and worry of his affairs he forgot. The Rector was still away, and as nobody else took any interest in such matters, the mysterious old chest stayed neglected among the corn-sacks. Only Peggy sometimes stole[255] up the stone staircase, and taking one of the strange books from its hiding-place, would pore over the quaint pictures which bordered the pages. They fascinated her with their crude drawing and colours still vivid and bright—saints with halos round their heads, kneeling rapt in prayer, with folded hands, in the midst of green fields and flowers, while the Virgin84, clothed in blue and gold, appeared with a whole company of angels from the skies above; patient martyrs85, with wan9 faces upturned to heaven, while their persecutors flung stones, or heaped on the burning brands; the blessed passing into the joys of Paradise, with the wicked writhing86 in the tormenting87 flames below; and round all a curious illuminated88 bordering, where strange faces peered out of twisting foliage89, and figures of birds and animals were intertwined with patterns of flowers or the tail of a capital letter. What patient fingers, she wondered, had toiled90 over these in days gone by, working with paint-pots and palette of gold to put the glory of paradise on his pages? Had the world altered much in all these years? And how little did the old artist think that his work would be found and marvelled91 at when he and his order were alike forgotten, and the very Abbey where he had lived and laboured had long since crumbled92 away!
So the old chest remained in the loft, as hidden there as when it had been buried in the earth, and Peggy came and went, never dreaming in the time that followed that these ancient, musty relics93 could in any way be bound up with the fate and fortunes of the Vaughans.
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1
starry
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| adj.星光照耀的, 闪亮的 | |
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winsome
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| n.迷人的，漂亮的 | |
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twitching
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| n.颤搐 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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ostensible
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| adj.(指理由)表面的，假装的 | |
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7
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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8
primroses
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| n.报春花( primrose的名词复数 )；淡黄色；追求享乐（招至恶果） | |
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9
wan
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| (wide area network)广域网 | |
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waning
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| adj.（月亮）渐亏的，逐渐减弱或变小的n.月亏v.衰落( wane的现在分词 )；（月）亏；变小；变暗淡 | |
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racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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exuberance
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| n.丰富；繁荣 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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bluebells
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| n.圆叶风铃草( bluebell的名词复数 ) | |
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snug
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| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
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larks
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| n.百灵科鸟（尤指云雀）( lark的名词复数 )；一大早就起床；鸡鸣即起；（因太费力而不想干时说）算了v.百灵科鸟（尤指云雀）( lark的第三人称单数 )；一大早就起床；鸡鸣即起；（因太费力而不想干时说）算了 | |
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veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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tassels
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| n.穗( tassel的名词复数 )；流苏状物；（植物的）穗；玉蜀黍的穗状雄花v.抽穗， （玉米）长穗须( tassel的第三人称单数 )；使抽穗， （为了使作物茁壮生长）摘去穗状雄花；用流苏装饰 | |
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poked
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| v.伸出( poke的过去式和过去分词 )；戳出；拨弄；与（某人）性交 | |
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sedate
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| adj.沉着的，镇静的，安静的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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farmhouse
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| n.农场住宅（尤指主要住房） | |
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tattered
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| adj.破旧的，衣衫破的 | |
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berth
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| n.卧铺，停泊地，锚位；v.使停泊 | |
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blustering
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| adj.狂风大作的，狂暴的v.外强中干的威吓( bluster的现在分词 )；咆哮；（风）呼啸；狂吹 | |
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rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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snarling
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的现在分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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scrambling
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的现在分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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villain
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| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
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brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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whined
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| v.哀号( whine的过去式和过去分词 )；哀诉，诉怨 | |
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lodged
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| v.存放( lodge的过去式和过去分词 )；暂住；埋入；（权利、权威等）归属 | |
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gaol
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| n.(jail)监狱；(不加冠词)监禁；vt.使…坐牢 | |
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swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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slits
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| n.狭长的口子，裂缝( slit的名词复数 )v.切开，撕开( slit的第三人称单数 )；在…上开狭长口子 | |
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afflicted
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| 使受痛苦，折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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hovered
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| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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45
bereaved
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| adj.刚刚丧失亲人的v.使失去（希望、生命等）( bereave的过去式和过去分词)；（尤指死亡）使丧失（亲人、朋友等）；使孤寂；抢走（财物） | |
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46
bustle
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| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
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47
gulp
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| vt.吞咽，大口地吸（气）；vi.哽住；n.吞咽 | |
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48
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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49
strew
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| vt.撒；使散落；撒在…上，散布于 | |
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50
gunpowder
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| n.火药 | |
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51
salute
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| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
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52
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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purloined
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| v.偷窃( purloin的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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conspicuously
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| ad.明显地，惹人注目地 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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choir
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| n.唱诗班，唱诗班的席位，合唱团，舞蹈团；v.合唱 | |
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monks
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| n.修道士，僧侣( monk的名词复数 ) | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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shovel
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| n.铁锨，铲子，一铲之量；v.铲，铲出 | |
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underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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coffins
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| n.棺材( coffin的名词复数 )；使某人早亡[死，完蛋，垮台等]之物 | |
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coffin
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| n.棺材，灵柩 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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recoil
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| vi.退却，退缩，畏缩 | |
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mouldering
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| v.腐朽( moulder的现在分词 )；腐烂，崩塌 | |
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rusted
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| v.（使）生锈( rust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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crumbling
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| adj.摇摇欲坠的 | |
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groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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carving
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| n.雕刻品，雕花 | |
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fumbling
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| n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
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rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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rummage
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| v./n.翻寻，仔细检查 | |
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smuggled
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| 水货 | |
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daggers
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| 匕首，短剑( dagger的名词复数 ) | |
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tarnished
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| （通常指金属）（使）失去光泽，（使）变灰暗( tarnish的过去式和过去分词 )； 玷污，败坏 | |
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shovelled
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| v.铲子( shovel的过去式和过去分词 )；锹；推土机、挖土机等的)铲；铲形部份 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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loft
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| n.阁楼，顶楼 | |
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virgin
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| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
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martyrs
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| n.martyr的复数形式；烈士( martyr的名词复数 )；殉道者；殉教者；乞怜者（向人诉苦以博取同情） | |
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writhing
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的现在分词 ) | |
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tormenting
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| 使痛苦的，使苦恼的 | |
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illuminated
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| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
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foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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toiled
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的过去式和过去分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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marvelled
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| v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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crumbled
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| （把…）弄碎， （使）碎成细屑( crumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 衰落； 坍塌； 损坏 | |
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relics
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| [pl.］n.遗物，遗迹，遗产；遗体，尸骸 | |
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