A few days later my researches bore fruit, as Digger decided to redirect our archeological efforts to the side of the Circle facing the ravine. Before long we had uncovered the entrance to a burial chamber and set about the careful business of obtaining access without destroying the tomb. This was no easy matter, and our arduous labours were punctuated with trips down to the village, to sample the dubious merits of it's alehouse - the Firkin O' Plenty. Although I had some reservations about the virtues of said establishment, the garrulous Professor Spooner was much more at ease, one might even say wallowing, in his native environment. So whether it was a good natured tussle with the locals (which nearly cost him an eye) or an amusing flirtation with a barmaid (which cost him two back teeth), his antics led to us being tolerated as a brief novelty. As for the rest of us, Professor Spadely was content to be part of a constituent among which his appearance might pass without disparaging comment (and the rumour was, Ma Whimple had already taken a shine to him), while Professor Digger, the only one of us capable of inspiring anything like respect from the populace, was an intermittent companion, preferring the opportunity to spend time with Miss Rutmore, working on the best way to gain entrance to a previously unexplored shaft.
And myself, enlivened perhaps by the atmosphere (or was it the four pints of Old Nob?), I felt emboldened to engage the barmaid Agnes in conversation. It was a parlous jug of ale that granted me the opportunity to broach her foreboding facade.
"I think you'll find, if you pull on it more gently, you'll get less froth."
"Expert in pouring pints now are you?"
"More accustomed to drinking them I'm afraid."
"You're afraid. Why?"
"I meant .. I just meant.."
"I know what you meant darling. Don't worry, I'm just yanking your chain. As an accustomer you should be customed to drinking, don't you reckon?"
"I reckonise a saucy wench when i see one."
"Ooh, getting right down to it aren't we?"
"I wouldn't mind."
"Well, you're a bit too forward, if you ask me."
"You'll have to forgive me. Its the Old Nob, I'm not used to so much of it at one time."
"I wish I could say the same. Wirkin in the Firkin, I end up pulling Old Nob, all day."
No doubt there would have been much more in this vein but we were interrupted by a drunken local, who staggered over and laid a hand menacingly on my shoulder, staring into my face with a mad leer. I could smell the beer fumes.
"Yer foolin with things yer dont understand boy."
I looked over at Agnes. "Well yes, thats true to some extent. But one needs the opportunity.."
"You go diggin too far in one yer 'oles, yer gonna find summat yer wasn't expectin."
"My 'oles?.. holes.. you mean the excavation?"
"Aye, thats right, yer excursions. I been seein wot yers up to see? An youse askin me, yer dont want to dig too deep. I bet youse never eard tell of a Shaggit, 'as yer?"
"Really sir I'm not sure I understand, perhaps you should do something about your grammar."
"Why, whats she up to now?"
"Sh.. never mind. Your warning is heeded sir. I shall pass it on to my companions post haste."
"Aye, see as 'ow you do!"
Well, by the time that little discussion was over, Agnes had moved on to serving customers at the other end of the bar, so I sojourned back to my own table with the drinks.
"About bloody time," said Spooner. "I thought you'd got lost in that tart's bosom. What did the old boy want, looking for trouble?"
"Not exactly. More in the business of distributing warnings"
"A warning eh? You warn him about sticking his nose into other people's business?"
"It was just local superstition, nonsense as far as I could tell"
"Bloody yokels" said Spadely. The beers had excacerbated his twitch in the most lively fashion. "Speaking of which: Ma Whimples invited me over to try some of her dumplings. The folks in here reckon its only a fool passes up the opportunity."
He stood up and downed his drink, before retrieving his coat from the stool and setting off into the night.
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