Mr. Escot at once decided that now was the time to get extensive and accurate information concerning his theory of the physical deterioration of man.
"You have been sexton here," said Mr. Escot, in the language of Hamlet, "man and boy, forty years."
The sexton turned pale; the period named was so nearly the true.
"During this period you have, of course, dug up many bones of the people of ancient times. Perhaps you can show me a few."
The sexton grinned a ghastly smile.
"Will you take your Bible oath you don't want them to raise the devil with?"
"Willingly," said Mr. Escot. "I have an abstruse reason for the inquiry."
"Why, if you have an obtuse reason," said the sexton, "that alters the case."
So saying, he led the way to the bone-house, from which he began to throw out various bones and skulls, and amongst them a skull of very extraordinary magnitude, which he swore by St. David was the skull of Cadwallader.
"How do you know this to be his skull?" said Mr. Escot.