The Salisbury Manuscript Read Free

he was so absorbed in his work that he hardly noticed them or the small sounds behind his back – that grey scuttling creature, no doubt.
    Soon his efforts revealed a low rock face. This far end of the burrow was composed of small slabs of stone, square or oblong, almost wall-like in their overall effect. They didn’t fit quite snugly together but, like the entrance and the sides of the burrow, they had certainly been created by human hand.
    When he had cleared a large enough area, the man used his gloved hands to grasp at the edges of a rectangular slab in the centre of the wall. It came away easily enough and he placed it on the ground. The resulting space was like the mouth of a post-box. He removed another slab. Then he reached in and groped around the recess that lay at the end of the burrow. His fingers closed round familiar objects and he breathed a sigh of relief. His secret was safe.
    He brought the first of the items into the warm glow from the lamp. Its feel and weight were well known to him, likewise the dull sheen of the thing. Once again, he marvelled at the intricate workmanship. Let no one say that he was a common despoiler of graves, unable to appreciate beauty when he saw and handled it!
    Swiftly he retrieved all the objects from the recess, piling them next to the bones of the skeleton. Using the lamp, he made a final examination of the recess. The light showed a roughly rectangular cavity lined with stone which had been cut to the same primitive finish as the exterior. Nothing remained inside. The cupboard was bare. He debated for an instant replacing the stone blocks but what would be the point? Anyone was welcome to visit the place now. But some instinct did cause him to return the stones to their position in the wall after all, the same instinct that had made him reluctant to disturb more of the bones than necessary.
    The man, sweating from his efforts and his hunched posture and the confined space, now proceeded to wrap up the objects from the hidden recess. He had brought fragments of cloth in his bag for this purpose. Otherwise the bag had been empty, apart from the lamp and the trowel. Returning, it would be full. He loaded the bag and hefted it a few inches from the ground. It was heavier than he expected. He contemplated sitting out the hours of darkness here and sneaking back with the first glimmers of light from the east.
    Dragging the bag with him, he moved into the more spacious area of the burrow near the entrance. He suddenly felt weary, not simply from the physical effort of emptying the stone cavity within the burrow but from the tension and concealment of the last few weeks.
    The man had discovered the burrow revealed by the fallen beech tree in late summer. It wasn’t the first time he had tramped over the area of Todd’s Mound within sight of the cathedral spire, tramped without success. He persisted because his researches had shown that there should be something here on this flank of the hill. But it was only during one fine September afternoon that he observed the stone blocks above the great bole of the tree. A cursory inspection of the stones revealed that they had been shaped to serve some purpose, an entrance to an underground chamber.
    Feeling slightly foolish, he crawled inside the triangular ‘door’ and found himself in the larger space beyond. He carried no light with him but, when his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he was just able to discern a skeleton laid out at the far end. He assumed the bones were the remains of some large animal. He crawled closer and, working by touch rather than sight, quickly established that they were human. But more than that he couldn’t discover although the dark chamber seemed to offer some kind of promise. Surely it must conceal more than a pile of bones?
    The very next day he returned with a lamp, pick, hammer and other tools in a leather bag. The weather had turned and the wind was gusting. He was wearing a long black coat, half as