and water. I do not mean what
we commonly call salt, which is chloride of sodium, but of earthy
salts."

"Well, but how can that be, Papa?" said Harry. "Has it ever been
proved?"

"Oh! yes, my boy; and in no way more simply than by the very people who
dug this trench. What did they often do with their dead, Harry?"

"Why, buried them, didn't they?" said Harry. "Oh! no, I know; they used
to make a great wicker idol, and put them in and burn them."

"Why, those were the Ancient Britons, who used to do that with their
prisoners," said Fred.

"Oh, ah; so it was," said Harry; "I forgot."

"Why, they used to burn them; didn't they, Papa?" said Philip.

"To be sure they did," said his father. "And what were their urns for?"

"Oh! I don't know," said Harry, "if it wasn't to make tea with."

"For shame, Hal," said Mr Inglis, good-humouredly. "Why, the ashes of
the dead were collected and preserved in these cinereal urns; and what
are ashes but earthy salts? Of course, in the process of burning, the
water would be entirely driven off. But, look, Fred has turned up
another coin."

For want of more effective tools than walking-sticks, the search for
relics was not very successful. Fred found another coin, and Mr Inglis
turned out two more; but nothing else was discovered, though it was
evident that a protracted search would lead to the discovery of perhaps
many curious antiquities; for Mr Inglis said that this had been a very
important station in the time of the Roman occupation of Britain; and he
regretted that the owner of that property was not a person who took an
interest in such matters.

Mr Inglis tried very hard to raise one of the skulls; but although the
one that had been in the most perfect state at first seemed hard enough
to roll down the slope, yet, upon being touched, it seemed to be nothing
else but earth.

At last the signal for starting was given, and, laden with treasures,
the little party slowly moved homeward. The walk was lovely, for the
sun was sinking behind them, so that the whole landscape and the far-off
sea were flooded with the golden light. The heat of the day, too, was
passed, and for the most part they walked home in the pleasant shade of
the trees, while, one by one, as the golden sunset paled, the moths and
bats came out; the night-jar took his hawking flight round the trees;
the beetles boomed and whirred; and just as they left the wood, as if to
say farewell, an owl crie