“Well, little one, I always suspected that the Holwick property might be yours; but James Mowbray died suddenly and the will was never found,” said Master Richard.
He saw clouds of anxiety gathering on the child’s face, so he went on,—“You must not think about it now; let us look at the chest.”
Aline lifted the velvet and on the top was a tray. It was filled with orphreys and other embroideries of the celebrated opus anglicum and was of immense value. So perfectly had the chest fitted that the colours were all as marvellous as the day they were done.
Below this was another tray, which contained exquisitely carved ivories and wonderful enamel work, several beautifully bound illuminated manuscripts of the highest possible excellence, many of the covers being elaborately garnished with precious stones, and two jewelled swords, one of Spanish make and one from Ferrara that almost equalled Ian’s own.
Beneath this tray again was a layer of soft leather bags in ten rows of five each, every one of which contained five hundred gold pieces.
This brought them about one-third of the way down the chest. The remainder was in three portions. In the middle was a large oak box, that exactly fitted from front to back, and left about a fifth of the chest on each side. These fifths were filled with solid gold and silver bars, packed like bricks to fill every crevice. Their total value was four or five times that of the gold pieces in the bags.
Richard Mowbray and Ian lifted out the oak box and it was found to contain a collection composed of the choicest examples of art in metal work that any of them had ever seen in their lives. There were large mazers and other cups, a wonderful nef, and skilfully wrought platters. There were daggers and hunting horns and belts. There were chatelaines and embracelets and diadems. Then in a smaller receptacle were lesser things, such as rings, pendants, necklaces, chains, clasps and buckles. But finely jewelled as many of them were, it was the supreme art of the designs and the craftsmanship of their execution that was their main attraction.
Little Aline was too overcome to speak. At last she recovered herself sufficiently to say;—“And are all of these things mine?”
“Of course they are,” said Master Richard, “and I do not know any one more worthy of them.”
She was silent for some time and then said,—“Well, we cannot leave them all lying round. I must put everything back.”