Short Fiction M. R. James (good book recommendations TXT) đ
- Author: M. R. James
Book online «Short Fiction M. R. James (good book recommendations TXT) đ». Author M. R. James
Naturally we both broke out into exclamations of surprise and interest. I for one had long known about the finding of the crown at Rendlesham and had often lamented its fate. No one has ever seen an Anglo-Saxon crownâ âat least no one had. But our man gazed at us with a rueful eye. âYes,â he said, âand the worst of it is I donât know how to put it back.â
âPut it back?â we cried out. âWhy, my dear sir, youâve made one of the most exciting finds ever heard of in this country. Of course it ought to go to the Jewel House at the Tower. Whatâs your difficulty? If youâre thinking about the owner of the land, and treasure-trove, and all that, we can certainly help you through. Nobodyâs going to make a fuss about technicalities in a case of this kind.â
Probably more was said, but all he did was to put his face in his hands, and mutter: âI donât know how to put it back.â
At last Long said: âYouâll forgive me, I hope, if I seem impertinent, but are you quite sure youâve got it?â I was wanting to ask much the same question myself, for of course the story did seem a lunaticâs dream when one thought over it. But I hadnât quite dared to say what might hurt the poor young manâs feelings. However he took it quite calmlyâ âreally, with the calm of despair, you might say. He sat up and said: âOh yes, thereâs no doubt of that: I have it here, in my room, locked up in my bag. You can come and look at it if you like: I wonât offer to bring it here.â
We were not likely to let the chance slip. We went with him; his room was only a few doors off. The boots was just collecting shoes in the passage: or so we thought: afterwards we were not sure. Our visitorâ âhis name was Paxtonâ âwas in a worse state of shivers than before, and went hurriedly into the room, and beckoned us after him, turned on the light, and shut the door carefully. Then he unlocked his kit-bag, and produced a bundle of clean pocket-handkerchiefs in which something was wrapped, laid it on the bed, and undid it. I can now say I have seen an actual Anglo-Saxon crown. It was of silverâ âas the Rendlesham one is always said to have beenâ âit was set with some gems, mostly antique intaglios and cameos, and was of rather plain, almost rough workmanship. In fact, it was like those you see on the coins and in the manuscripts. I found no reason to think it was later than the ninth century. I was intensely interested, of course, and I wanted to turn it over in my hands, but Paxton prevented me. âDonât you touch it,â he said, âIâll do that.â And with a sigh that was, I declare to you, dreadful to hear, he took it up and turned it about so that we could see every part of it. âSeen enough?â he said at last, and we nodded. He wrapped it up and locked it in his bag, and stood looking at us dumbly. âCome back to our room,â Long said, âand tell us what the trouble is.â He thanked us, and said: âWill you go first and see ifâ âif the coast is clear?â That wasnât very intelligible, for our proceedings hadnât been, after all, very suspicious, and the hotel, as I said, was practically empty. However, we were beginning to have inklings ofâ âwe didnât know what, and anyhow nerves are infectious. So we did go, first peering out as we opened the door, and fancying (I found we both had the fancy) that a shadow, or more than a shadowâ âbut it made no soundâ âpassed from before us to one side as we came out into the passage. âItâs all right,â we whispered to Paxtonâ âwhispering seemed the proper toneâ âand we went, with him between us, back to our sitting-room. I was preparing, when we got there, to be ecstatic about the unique interest of what we had seen, but when I looked at Paxton I saw that would be terribly out of place, and I left it to him to begin.
âWhat is to be done?â was his opening. Long thought it right (as he explained to me afterwards) to be obtuse, and said: âWhy not find out who the owner of the land is, and informâ ââ âOh, no, no!â Paxton broke in impatiently, âI beg your pardon: youâve been very kind, but donât you see itâs got to go back, and I darenât be there at night, and daytimeâs impossible. Perhaps, though, you donât see: well, then, the truth is that Iâve never been alone since I touched it.â I was beginning some fairly stupid comment, but Long caught my eye, and I stopped. Long said: âI think I do see, perhaps: but wouldnât it beâ âa reliefâ âto tell us a little more clearly what the situation is?â
Then it all came out: Paxton looked over his shoulder and beckoned to us to come nearer to him, and began speaking in a low voice: we listened most intently, of course, and compared notes afterwards, and I wrote down our version, so I am confident I have what he told us almost word for word. He said: âIt began when I was first prospecting, and put me off again and again. There was always somebodyâ âa manâ âstanding by one of the firs. This was in daylight, you know. He was never in front of me. I always saw him with the tail of my eye on the left or the right, and he was never there when I looked straight for him. I would lie down
Comments (0)