"As I live," he said, "somewhat cold moved beneath my fingers in there."
Even as he spoke something crawled slowly on to the bag that was broken and sat on the red gold that was hidden no longer. There it stayed, staring at the torchlight--a great wizened toad, whose eyes were like the gold which it seemed to guard. And we stared at it, for not one of us dared touch it, nor could 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."