The Unburied

The Unburied by Charles Palliser Page B

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Authors: Charles Palliser
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which the old man is bishop. I therefore left it where I had found it
.’
    ‘And what do you believe he had found?’
    ‘Since he knew nothing of the Anglo-Saxon period, Pepperdine did not recognize that the manuscript he was summarizing was a version of a story in Grimbald’s
Life.

    Dr Locard started. As calmly as I was able I said, hoping he would not notice the tremor in my voice: ‘I am convinced that it is nothing less than Grimbald’s original text.’
    ‘In that case, it would establish beyond all argument how much Leofranc altered his source.’
    ‘And prove that he did not compose the whole thing, as Scuttard absurdly maintains, but merely revised the existing text.’
    ‘That would constitute an earthquake in Alfredian studies, I assume.’
    ‘If Grimbald is largely authentic – as I believe – his
Life
would have to be taken seriously as a major source for the period.’
    ‘You must be eager to begin the search. Let me show you the Library.’
    He led me back into the great hall and we ascended an old wooden staircase to the huge upper floor where daylight came in through the top half of the tall windows allowing me to admire the handsome hammerbeam roof.
    ‘After the looting and the fire,’ Dr Locard explained, ‘hundreds of books and manuscripts were gathered up where they had been thrown. The printed books were placed on the ground floor and were sorted out over the next months and years, but the manuscripts were an immense problem. Many of them were in obscure languages or in hands that were hard to read so the Librarian made a crude division: they were sorted into those which were to be catalogued as soon as possible and those which could wait.’
    ‘On what basis was this division made?’
    ‘Those that could wait were for the most part the Foundation’s own muniments – fabric records, rent-rolls, and so on – and they were taken down to the undercroft of the New Library and have hardly been looked at since then. The important ones were brought up here to be catalogued.’
    He showed me the section of the shelves on which the manuscripts were kept.
    ‘And has that been done?’
    ‘That work only started eight years ago when I became Librarian.’ He paused and said with quiet impressiveness: ‘In another six months I expect to be able to report to the Dean and Chapter that we have finished. Those which remain to be done are for the most part ones which should have been placed in the undercroft in 1643.’
    ‘I congratulate you, Dr Locard.’
    He nodded in brief acknowledgement. ‘Let us go down to the undercroft now.’
    We descended the stairs and as we passed along the length of the lower floor, we encountered the young assistant at his desk in one of the bays. ‘Ah, Quitregard,’ said Dr Locard. ‘Would you bring a lamp and accompany us down to the undercroft?’
    A moment later we had passed into the part of the building known as the New Library and from which the undercroft was entered, and were making our way carefully down a dark staircase with the young man in front of us to light our way. That was essential for it had no gas-lighting and was nothing more than the ancient cellarage of the old hall, and smelt strongly of dust and spiders and old paper.
    The undercroft was huge and for several minutes the two men led me around the maze of ancient book-presses, at each turn more shelves laden with bundles of yellowing manuscript and ancient leathern cartularies coming into view in the flickering light in Quitregard’s hand. It was immediately clear to me that Pepperdine had been right: it would be the work of years rather than months to sift through these heaps of paper and vellum.
    Thank goodness’, I said, ‘that I do not have to search down here.’
    Dr Locard stopped and turned to look at me: ‘Why do you say that?’
    ‘Simply because Pepperdine did not search through them and therefore did not find the manuscript here.’
    Dr Locard seemed to reflect for a

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