Harold got them, advanced to the centre
of the space and, half laughing at his own folly, set to work. First,
having lit another lantern which was kept there, he removed with the
sharp end of the pickaxe a large patch of the encaustic tiles exactly
in the centre of the depression. Then having loosened the soil beneath
with the pick he took off his ulster and fell to digging with a will.
The soil proved to be very sandy and easy to work. Indeed, from its
appearance, he soon came to the conclusion that it was not virgin
earth, but worked soil which had been thrown there.
Presently his spade struck against something hard; he picked it up and
held it to the lantern. It proved to be an ancient spear-head, and
near it were some bones, though whether or no they were human he could
not at the time determine. This was very interesting, but it was
scarcely what he wanted, so he dug on manfully until he found himself
chest deep in a kind of grave. He had been digging for an hour now,
and was getting very tired. Cold as it was the perspiration poured
from him. As he paused for breath he heard the church clock strike
two, and very solemnly it sounded down the wild ways of the wind-torn
winter night. He dug on a little more, and then seriously thought of
giving up what he was somewhat ashamed of having undertaken.
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