ould we say aught.

It is ill to waste breath in wondering how the creature got into
this long-closed place or how it lived. But when I have told of
this, many a time have I heard stories of toads that have been
found in stranger places--even in solid-seeming rock. But however
it came there--and one may think of many ways--it scared us. It
seemed a thing not natural.

"It is the evil spirit that guards the treasure," whispered Relf to
Olaf, edging toward the ladder.

"Fetch Anselm the priest, and let him exorcise this," said the
earl. "It is some witchcraft of the heathen Romans."

"Were I in Finmark I would say that this was a 'sending' {7},"
Olaf said, "but we are in Christian England, and this is but a
toad."

Now I said nothing, but I wished the beast away, for I would see
the treasure I had found. Then the earl bethought himself.

"Maybe it is but a toad," he said. "I will cast it out."

And with that he went to do so, but liked it not, and drew back
again.

"Toad or worse," I said then, "I mind not their cold skin, and will
see what it is."

So I took hold of the beast, and it swelled itself out as I did so,
and croaked a little. That was the worst it did; but I will say
this, that the sound almost made me drop it. But I cast it behind
me into the shadow, and then put both hands into the chamber and
took out one of the bags.

It was full of gold coin, as was that which had been torn open, and
as were all the rest--ten of them--when we looked. And the coins
were older than we could tell, being stamped with strange figures
that bore some likeness to horses whose limbs fell apart, and a
strange face on the other side. Many had letters on them, and these
were mostly--CVNO.

"They are coins of the Welsh folk whom we conquered," said
Wulfnoth. "I have seen the like before. They made them at Selsea,
and we find many there on the shore after storms."

Now I think that we had found the hiding place of the tribute money
that should be sent to Rome when some ship came thence or from
beyond the Channel to fetch it, or maybe it was some iron master's
hoarded payment for the good Sussex iron that they smelted in these
valleys in the Roman days. More likely it was the first, for men
would know that it had never been sent away. None can tell how the
places of these hoards are lost, but times of war have strange
chances. Then folk do but hand down the knowledge that, somewhere,
the treasure is yet hidden {8}.