exact centre, and round too. It was covered with a black velvet cloth and it consisted of innumerable little bars of gold. An offering to his Cosmogenic God, I suppose.”

He reached into his shirt and withdrew a small brick which glittered with that magical glow only pure gold can achieve: fire without fire, heat without heat, light without light. “See? Ten pounds is about right,” he said, thrilled with himself. “And not a government mark to be seen! Or any other mark, for that matter.”

They sat down, both to recover from the strain of waiting for Charlie, and the shock of learning that Father Dominus had told Mary the truth.

“How many of these bricks are there?” Angus asked.

“Impossible to tell without dismantling the altar-is it hollow, or packed solid? He had made it round by putting each bar at an angle, so I hazard a guess that it’s solid save for the natural spaces this way of stacking produces,” said Charlie, eyes bright. “The whole altar measures about three feet in diameter, and three feet in height. What an offering!”

“Better that, than one of his children,” said Angus grimly.

“We have to think this thing through,” said Fitz, drawing a circle in a patch of dust with a stick. “First of all, we cannot make this find public, either now or at any time in the future. I will approach the government, of which I am a member until such time as Parliament goes into session.” He scowled. “That means we have to move the gold to Pemberley ourselves. Interesting, that lead has been mined in the Peak District for centuries! If we can lift it out of the temple chamber and wrap it securely on sleds, we can pretend it’s a hoard of lead from Father Dominus’s failed experiments to alchemise it into gold. Lead is valuable enough that it will seem good sense on our parts to garnish it on behalf of the Children of Jesus. We will simply say that it was already wrapped in job-lots, and we preferred to get it out of the caves ourselves for fear of more collapses.”

“Thus appearing responsible citizens,” said Angus with a grin.

“Quite. I’ll have the Pemberley carpenters make two sleds-they ought to suffice, given the dimensions of the altar. A pity the donkeys were killed. They would have been ideal.” Fitz turned to his son. “I am afraid you have to go back down the hole at this moment, Charlie. Would I fit?”

“I think so, but Angus definitely not.”

“Angus very definitely not! Someone has to remain up here to haul us out. Jupiter can do the work, but not without guidance. You and I are going down to count the number of ingots. On that figure depends the extent of our transportation.”

It was a gruelling task for two men not used to manual labour, but being together was a mental fillip; they could urge each other on, twit each other when one flagged, make a joke out of a trembling limb or eyes blinded by sweat.

“One thousand and twenty-three ingots,” said Fitz, lying flat out on the ground looking up at the twilit sky wherein Venus shone as Evening Star, cold, pure, indifferent. “Christ, I am a broken reed! No work for a man of fifty, let alone a sedentary one. I will ache for weeks.”

“And I for months,” said Charlie with a groan.

“We availed ourselves of a pair of scales in the old man’s cell and discovered that one ingot weighs a full ten pounds avoirdupois. For what reason I know not, Father Dominus chose not to use troy weight, which is usual for precious metals-only twelve ounces to the pound. At two thousand, two hundred and forty pounds avoirdupois to the ton, we have about four and a half tons of gold down there.”

Charlie sat up with a jolt. “Heavens, Papa, that means we have shifted over two tons each!”

“A mere matter of feet, and not the bottom layer,” said Fitz austerely. He looked at Angus. “Had we been forced to work in torchlight, it would have been intolerable, but we found two extraordinary lamps in Dominus’s cell, also a barrel of some kind of oil that fuels them. Mary is right when she says his mind was first-rate. I’ve seen nothing like them anywhere. It may be, Angus, that your company could patent and manufacture them if we bring one up after we’re done.”

“I think the patent should be awarded to the Children of Jesus,” Angus said.

“No, they will have all the gold except for a reward payable to Mary. Take it, Angus! Otherwise I’ll break both lamps and no one will benefit.”

“Then why not Charles Bingley?”

“It’s in my gift,” Fitz said royally, “and it goes to you.”

I will never break him of it! thought Angus. No one will. “Very well, and I thank you,” he said.

“Four sleds,” said Charlie, interrupting. “We’ll need some donkeys, not to pull the sleds, but to brake them.”

“How do you know about sleds, Fitz?” asked Angus.

“They’re used in Bristol, where the quays are hollow from warehouses beneath. The load is better distributed on a sled’s runners than on the four points where a wagon’s wheels touch the ground. Runners will help getting the load downhill too, where the subsidences are greater.”

“I take it we say nothing to the ladies?” Angus asked.

“Not even a hint of the most obscure kind.”

“But we will have help loading the wrapped packages onto the sleds?” Charlie asked anxiously.

“Yes, but only Pemberley men, and the most trusted. We’ll need a winch to bring the parcels up from the chamber, and a basket small enough to pass through the ventilation well without sticking. The basket will have to be perfectly balanced, and equipped with little wheels. That will enable us to wrap the ingots in it, then wheel it through into Dominus’s cell. Charlie, make sure you bring plenty of gloves when we return. Each package will have to be well-roped besides well-wrapped.”

“What a mind you have, Papa!” said Charlie. “Every detail.”

Fitz’s rare smile flashed out. “Why do you think it was so easy for an obscure MP from Derbyshire to aspire to the prime ministership? Few men are willing to deal with the minutiae, and that is a flaw in character.”

“When do we begin this Herculean task?” Angus asked, rather ashamed that his muscular build negated his sharing in it.

“Today is Wednesday. Next Monday, if the sleds can be made and the donkeys located by then. We will hope to complete it in five days.”

When they set off down the hill, Charlie let Angus lead Jupiter and deliberately fell behind to be private with his father.

“Papa, is this Grandfather’s loot?” he asked.

“I imagine so.”

“How then did Father Dominus lay hands on it?”

“A question I suspect Mary could answer, at least partially, but chooses not to. Miriam Matcham’s statement to the Sheffield authorities refers to a Father Dominus who supplied poisons and an abortifacient to her-he would have been ideal for an abbess. Since her mother inherited the brothel from Harold Darcy, it seems likely that Father Dominus originally belonged to Harold Darcy. Perhaps he was a trusted confederate. Certainly over the years Harold must have accumulated huge quantities of gold jewellery and coins, none of which ever came to light, though the precious stones did-he had a little cask full of loose but faceted rubies, emeralds, diamonds and sapphires. No pearls were ever found, or semi-precious stones. Given Dominus’s skills, it may be that he was commissioned to melt down the gold. Still, it’s all conjecture.”

“Good conjecture, Papa. I wonder why Mary keeps his secret?”

“If you ask her, she may tell you, but she will never confide in me. As she sees it, I treated her with contempt, and I did.”

“In the old days she would have told me, but not now. I am too close to you,” said Charlie ruefully. “There is a kind of invisible barrier between men and women, isn’t there?”

“Yes, alas.” Uncomfortable at the turn the conversation had taken, Fitz went elsewhere. “What we do know is that the old man never tried to exchange any of the gold for money, or otherwise betrayed his whereabouts to Harold Darcy.”

“What a shock it must have been to Grandfather!”

“That too we may be sure of. Around my twelfth birthday there was a marked change in my father. He became wilder, much angrier, cruel to Mama and to the staff. Unpardonable!”

“Papa, your childhood was hideous!” Charlie blurted. “I am so sorry!”

“That was no excuse for my being so hard on you, my son. I have more to apologise for by far than you.”

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