It was fortunate that at that time of year the sun does not set until after eight o'clock, for no one could have borne to leave that pavement without seeing the whole of it. The children, quite forgotten for once in their lives, grubbed in the piles of earth and found bewitching bronze lion-heads and ornamental knobs and handles, and pictured tiles. At last they all went in to a very late supper. All the guests could be sheltered at Wilfrid's home if the young men were satisfied to lodge in Cold Harbor.
“It is like finding out the people who lived here when the land was young,” said Wilfrid, his eyes very bright.
“And there were also the men who made the dewponds,” mused Master Gay.
“And there were those Druids of whom my father told me,” said Josian wonderingly. “This is like a fairy tale, Al-an. Is York the same?”
“Brother Basil said once that our England is a land of lost kingdoms,” Alan answered her. “I see what he meant.”
Excavation went on during the following days until all the pavements of the old Roman house had been cleared. The two others were larger but not so fine as the first they had uncovered. One was of stone blocks laid in a sort of checkerboard pattern, and the other of mosaic in a conventional pattern of black and gray and brown and red. They found that under these floors there was an open space about two feet high. The tiled floor which was covered with the mosaic was supported by a multitude of dwarf pillars of stone and brick. This space, although they did not know it, was the hypocaust or heating chamber of the colonial Roman house, and had been kept filled with hot air from a furnace. Beams of wood and heaps of tiles indicated that there had been an upper storey of wood. This in fact was the case, the Romans having a strong objection to sleeping on the ground floor.
Now there was no more doubt that Cold Harbor might be made into a well-appointed tavern. With a little masonry to reenforce them the walls would form a base for a half-timbered house roofed with tiles from Wilfrid's pottery. The largest room would be the general guest-room in which the tables would be set for all comers, and those who could not afford better accommodation might sleep there on benches or on the floor. For guests of higher station, especially those who had ladies in their party, private chambers and dining-rooms would be provided. Master Gay intended to furnish a suite for himself and any of his friends who came that way.
“And by the way,” said Guy suddenly, “Cold Harbor will never do for a name. What shall you call the inn, Martin?”
Bouvin snapped his fingers. “I have thought and thought until my head goes to split. I would call it Boulogne Harbor, but there is no picture you could make of that.”
“'Mouth' is the English for harbor,” suggested Wilfrid. “But all the country people would call it 'Bull-and-Mouth.”