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 neck, and he was forced to conclude that love-affairs up above were transacted much as they are down here, that is in strict privacy. And he was no sooner able to get a spade than he began to dig and make holes wherever he thought there was treasure; for though Griffith's wits were not perhaps of the brightest, yet he perfectly remembered every circumstance he had heard, and indeed the whole story seemed written in fiery letters on the air. So he sought now in one place and now in another for all these fine things, and folks soon became aware of his folly, the which was deemed very entertaining, and a piece of a blessing in dull times when there was very little to laugh at. But when the two historians heard of the Delver, they understood the matter thoroughly, and were vexed at it, for they were pious men, desirous of amusing people and not of driving them mad. So they went together to Griffith and endeavoured to open his understanding and to show him the true state of the case; but to no avail, for he, an unlettered man, had no notion of History, and thought the two monks were trying to make a fool of him that they might keep all the treasure for themselves. Perceiving the poor man's madness the historians did the best they were able, and interceded with the Abbot so that the Delver was fed at the Almonry every day for the rest of his life, the which was, as I said at the beginning of my tale, spent in turning earth upside down, wandering through St. Julian's wood, prodding walls, poking under the roots of trees, and the like investigations. Before long