By this time they had reached Wilfrid’s house, and he was at home. When Guy unfolded his problem the potter looked thoughtful.
“I may have the very thing you want,” he said. “Come here.”
He led the way into a small room which he used as a study, and dragged into the middle of the floor a carved oaken chest bound with iron. There was just enough carved work on it to add to its look of strength. Two leopards’ heads in wrought iron, with rings in their jaws, formed handles on the ends. The corners were shielded with rounded iron plates suggesting oak leaves. The ornamental wrought iron hinges, in an oak and acorn pattern, stretched more than half way across the lid and down the back. Iron bolts passing through staples held the lid, and acorn-headed nails studded it all over. In fact, the iron was so spread over it in one way and another that to break it up one would have needed a small saw to work in and out among the nails, or a stone-crusher. When the lid was thrown back, more iron appeared, a network of small rods bedded into the inner surface of lid, bottom and sides. The staples holding the lock went clean through the front to the inside of the box.
“What a piece of cunning workmanship!” said Guy in admiration. “It is like some of the German work, and yet that never came over seas.”
“No,” said Wilfrid, “it was done here in the Sussex Weald. I had the idea of it when I came back from France, and young Dickon, whom you saw last night, made the iron-work. He began with the hinges and handles, and then Quentin of Peronne did the wood-work and brought the chest here, and Dickon fitted in these grilles yesterday.”
“Will you sell it?” asked Guy. The other hesitated.
“I had meant to keep it to show the Abbey folk,” he said. “I had thought it might get Dickon a job at some cathedral.”
“We’ll use it to pack some gold-work that’s to go to the King,” averred Guy promptly. “Will that content you?”
“It ought to,” smiled Wilfrid, well satisfied, as he took the contents of the coffer out and shut down the lid.