rough search. Visions of
strange-shaped daggers and spears, bronze cups and bowls with mysterious
inscriptions on them, rusty ornaments, and other relics floated
continually before him. There they were, all waiting hidden below,
ready to fill the empty shelves of the museum. If only father would
consent to go with him and David, and let them poke about as much as
they liked. That would be the only plan, and after much consideration
and many talks together both the boys came to the conclusion that the
vicar must be asked. Who was to ask him? The question was as usual
settled by casting lots, and it fell to Ambrose.

Now, unluckily, the vicar was at this time specially busy. There was to
be a clerical meeting at Nearminster at which he had promised to read a
paper, and the preparation of this filled up all his spare time. At
such moments it required courage to knock at his door and ask questions,
and Ambrose drew back a little. Urged, however, by David, and by the
thoughts of the treasure, he at length made the effort. Directly he got
into the room he saw by all the great books his father had open on the
table, and by the frown on his brow, that he was deeply engrossed. He
looked up, certainly, and seemed to listen, but he was evidently very
far-away from anything connected with Rumborough Common. Gathering,
however, that he was asked to go somewhere, he looked back at his papers
and shook his head.

"My dear boy," he said, "I will listen to you another time, but none of
you are to come and ask me questions just now. Run away to your
mother."

His pen began to scratch away over the paper at a dreadful rate, and
Ambrose returned dejectedly to tell David of his failure. They felt
quite cast-down by it. Mother and father were both going away next
week. They were invited to stay at Miss Unity's house during the
clerical meeting, taking Dickie with them, and would not be home for
four days. This would make a terrible long delay, and it seemed
impossible to wait all that time before asking their father again. Yet
what could be done?

Ambrose felt the disappointment more severely than David. His mind was
so fixed on carrying out his idea that he brooded over it by day and
even dreamed of it at night. Often he saw the shelves of the museum
crowded with all his heart could desire in the way of curious and
ancient objects. But this did not advance matters at all. They
remained in the cold light of day as