The Scroll Read Free Page A

done. He had not questioned it at the time, but he did now. It was Roger’s name on the door and on the company letterhead. Monty’s name appeared nowhere. And why had they not assumed he was Roger? Wouldn’t that be the natural thing to do?
    “You have me at a disadvantage, Your Grace,” he said rather crisply. “I am quite sure I would remember if we had met.”
    The man smiled again. “I’m sure you would. And yet you greeted me correctly, and with courtesy. There is no need as yet for us to go beyond that. I imagine you also know why I am here. You are not only knowledgeable on books of all types, Mr. Danforth, and an intelligent man, you are also, I believe, unusually sensitive to the power of evil, and also of good.”
    Monty was flattered, and then frightened. He was an excellent raconteur and could tell ghost stories which held his audience of friends spellbound … for an evening’s entertainment and fellowship. That was hardly something to spread beyond his own circle, which did not include bishops of any faith, Catholic or Protestant. His friends were largely academics like Hank, or else students and artists of one sort or another.
    The bishop continued to smile. “You have in your possession at the moment a very unusual piece of ancient manuscript,” he continued. “It is part of an estate, and you will in due course offer it for sale, along with the rest of the books, which are insignificant in comparison. No doubt they are in good condition, but editions of them can be obtained in any decent bookshop. The scroll is unique. But then you know that already.” His eyes never moved from Monty’s face.
    Monty was colder, as if someone had opened a door onto the night. Any idea of denying his knowledge melted away. He had to swallow a couple of times before he could speak, and even then his voice sounded a little high-pitched.
    “Something as unusual as the scroll will have to wait for Mr. Williams.” It sounded like an excuse, even though it was perfectly true. “I imagine you would like it verified as well. It looks old, but no expert has examined it yet, so I have no idea of price. Actually, we don’t even know what it is.”
    The bishop’s smile did not waver, but his eyes were sharp and cold. “It is an ancient and very evil document, Mr. Danforth. If it were to pass into the wrong hands and become known to others the damage it could do would be measureless. I assure you, whatever price an expert might put on it, should you take the path of demanding that price, the Church will meet it. We would hope, as a man of principle and goodwill, you would settle for its value in the market place for scrolls of its date and origin.”
    Monty’s hands were stiff, his arms covered in goosebumps. The bishop’s figure seemed to float in the air, to become darker, and then lighter, the edges to blur. This was ridiculous! He blinked and shook his head, then looked again, and everything was normal. An elderly bishop, perfectly solid and human, was standing near the door, still smiling at him, still watching him.
    Monty gulped. “The price doesn’t lie within my control, Your Grace, but I imagine Mr. Williams will be fair. I have never known him not to be otherwise.”
    “Do not put it up for auction, Mr. Danforth,” the bishop said gravely, the pleasantness disappeared from his expression as completely as a cloud passing across the sun robbed the land beneath of light. “It would be a very dangerous mistake, the extent of which I think might well be beyond your imagination, fertile as that is.”
    “I shall pass on your message to Mr. Williams,” Monty promised, but his voice lacked the firmness he wished.
    “Something suggests to me, Mr. Danforth, that I am not the only person to approach you on this subject,” the bishop observed. “I urge you, with all the power at my disposal, not to sell this scroll elsewhere, no matter what inducement might be offered you to do so.”
    Now Monty was annoyed.