on them, and all around was snow and snowflakes in the eyes and
ears and mouth and down the neck and all around. And when Butcher glanced down
at the ground a few seconds later it was already white.
"That's all we want," Ford said. "A filthy rotten stinking blizzard," and he shivered and sunk his sharp and foxy
face deeper into the collar of his coat. "Come on," he said.
"See if there's any more."
Butcher knelt down again and poked around in the soil, then in the slow and casual manner of a man having a lucky dip in a barrel of
sawdust, he pulled out another plate and held it out to Ford. Ford took it and
placed it with the other three. Now Ford knelt down beside Butcher and began to
dip into the soil with him.
For a whole hour the two men stayed out there digging and scratching in that
little three-foot patch of soil. And during that hour they found and laid upon
the ground beside them no less than
thirty-four separate pieces! There were dishes, bowls, goblets, spoons,
ladles and several other things, all of them crusted over but each one
recognizable for what it was. And all the while the blizzard swirled around
them and the snow gathered in little mounds upon their caps and on their
shoulders and the flakes melted on their faces so that rivers of icy water
trickled down their necks. A large globule of half-frozen liquid dangled
continually, like a snow drop, from the end of Ford's pointed nose.
They worked in silence. It was too cold to speak. And as one precious article
after the other was unearthed, Ford laid them carefully on the ground in rows,
pausing every now and then to wipe the snow away from a dish or a spoon which
was in danger of being completely covered.
At last Ford said, "That's the lot, I think."
"Yes."
Ford stood up and stamped his feet on the ground. "Got a sack in the
tractor?" he said, and while Butcher walked over to fetch the sack, he
turned and gazed upon the four-and-thirty pieces lying in the snow at his feet.
He counted them again. If they were silver, which they surely must be, and if
they were Roman, which they undoubtedly were, then this was a discovery that
would rock the world.
Butcher called to him from the tractor, "It's only a dirty old sack."
"It'll do."
Butcher brought the sack over and held it open while Ford carefully put the
articles into it. They all went in except one. The massive two-foot plate was
too large for the neck of the sack.
The two men were really cold now. For over an hour they had knelt and scratched
about out there in the open field with the blizzard swirling around them.
Already, nearly six inches of snow had fallen. Butcher was half-frozen. His
cheeks were dead-white, blotched with blue, his feet were numb like wood, and
when he moved his legs he could not feel the ground beneath his feet. He was
much colder than Ford. His coat and clothes were not so thick, and ever since
early morning he had been sitting high up on the seat of the tractor, exposed
to the bitter wind. His blue-white face was tight and unmoving. All he wanted
was to get home to his family and to the fire that he knew would be burning in
the grate.
Ford, on the other hand, was not thinking about the cold. His mind was
concentrated solely upon one thing -- how to get possession for himself of this
fabulous treasure. His position, as he knew very well, was not a strong one.
In England there is a very curious law about finding any kind of gold or silver
treasure. This law goes back hundreds of years, and is still strictly enforced
today. The law states that if a person digs up out of the ground, even out of
his own garden, a piece of metal that is either gold or silver, it automatically becomes
what is known as Treasure Trove and is the property of the Crown. The Crown
doesn't in these days mean the actual King or Queen. It means the country or
the government. The law also states that it is a criminal offence to conceal
such a find. You are simply not allowed to hide the stuff
ears and mouth and down the neck and all around. And when Butcher glanced down
at the ground a few seconds later it was already white.
"That's all we want," Ford said. "A filthy rotten stinking blizzard," and he shivered and sunk his sharp and foxy
face deeper into the collar of his coat. "Come on," he said.
"See if there's any more."
Butcher knelt down again and poked around in the soil, then in the slow and casual manner of a man having a lucky dip in a barrel of
sawdust, he pulled out another plate and held it out to Ford. Ford took it and
placed it with the other three. Now Ford knelt down beside Butcher and began to
dip into the soil with him.
For a whole hour the two men stayed out there digging and scratching in that
little three-foot patch of soil. And during that hour they found and laid upon
the ground beside them no less than
thirty-four separate pieces! There were dishes, bowls, goblets, spoons,
ladles and several other things, all of them crusted over but each one
recognizable for what it was. And all the while the blizzard swirled around
them and the snow gathered in little mounds upon their caps and on their
shoulders and the flakes melted on their faces so that rivers of icy water
trickled down their necks. A large globule of half-frozen liquid dangled
continually, like a snow drop, from the end of Ford's pointed nose.
They worked in silence. It was too cold to speak. And as one precious article
after the other was unearthed, Ford laid them carefully on the ground in rows,
pausing every now and then to wipe the snow away from a dish or a spoon which
was in danger of being completely covered.
At last Ford said, "That's the lot, I think."
"Yes."
Ford stood up and stamped his feet on the ground. "Got a sack in the
tractor?" he said, and while Butcher walked over to fetch the sack, he
turned and gazed upon the four-and-thirty pieces lying in the snow at his feet.
He counted them again. If they were silver, which they surely must be, and if
they were Roman, which they undoubtedly were, then this was a discovery that
would rock the world.
Butcher called to him from the tractor, "It's only a dirty old sack."
"It'll do."
Butcher brought the sack over and held it open while Ford carefully put the
articles into it. They all went in except one. The massive two-foot plate was
too large for the neck of the sack.
The two men were really cold now. For over an hour they had knelt and scratched
about out there in the open field with the blizzard swirling around them.
Already, nearly six inches of snow had fallen. Butcher was half-frozen. His
cheeks were dead-white, blotched with blue, his feet were numb like wood, and
when he moved his legs he could not feel the ground beneath his feet. He was
much colder than Ford. His coat and clothes were not so thick, and ever since
early morning he had been sitting high up on the seat of the tractor, exposed
to the bitter wind. His blue-white face was tight and unmoving. All he wanted
was to get home to his family and to the fire that he knew would be burning in
the grate.
Ford, on the other hand, was not thinking about the cold. His mind was
concentrated solely upon one thing -- how to get possession for himself of this
fabulous treasure. His position, as he knew very well, was not a strong one.
In England there is a very curious law about finding any kind of gold or silver
treasure. This law goes back hundreds of years, and is still strictly enforced
today. The law states that if a person digs up out of the ground, even out of
his own garden, a piece of metal that is either gold or silver, it automatically becomes
what is known as Treasure Trove and is the property of the Crown. The Crown
doesn't in these days mean the actual King or Queen. It means the country or
the government. The law also states that it is a criminal offence to conceal
such a find. You are simply not allowed to hide the stuff
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