a storehouse of unimagined
treasures. The aunt-by-assertion was one of those people who think that
things spoil by use and consign them to dust and damp by way of
preserving them. Such parts of the house as Nicholas knew best were
rather bare and cheerless, but here there were wonderful things for the
eye to feast on. First and foremost there was a piece of framed tapestry
that was evidently meant to be a fire-screen. To Nicholas it was a
living, breathing story; he sat down on a roll of Indian hangings,
glowing in wonderful colours beneath a layer of dust, and took in all the
details of the tapestry picture. A man, dressed in the hunting costume
of some remote period, had just transfixed a stag with an arrow; it could
not have been a difficult shot because the stag was only one or two paces
away from him; in the thickly-growing vegetation that the picture
suggested it would not have been difficult to creep up to a feeding stag,
and the two spotted dogs that were springing forward to join in the chase
had evidently been trained to keep to heel till the arrow was discharged.
That part of the picture was simple, if interesting, but did the huntsman
see, what Nicholas saw, that four galloping wolves were coming in his
direction through the wood? There might be more than four of them hidden
behind the trees, and in any case would the man and his dogs be able to
cope with the four wolves if they made an attack? The man had only two
arrows left in his quiver, and he might miss with one or both of them;
all one knew about his skill in shooting was that he could hit a large
stag at a ridiculously short range. Nicholas sat for many golden minutes
revolving the possibilities of the scene; he was inclined to think that
there were more than four wolves and that the man and his dogs were in a
tight corner.

But there were other objects of delight and interest claiming his instant
attention: there were quaint twisted candlesticks in the shape of snakes,
and a teapot fashioned like a china duck, out of whose open beak the tea
was supposed to come. How dull and shapeless the nursery teapot seemed
in comparison! And there was a carved sandal-wood box packed tight with
aromatic cotton-wool, and between the layers of cotton-wool were little
brass figures, hump-necked bulls, and peacocks and goblins, delightful to
see and to handle. Less promising in appearance was a large square book
with plain black covers; Nicholas peeped int