"They would find it dull, I expect," I suggested, for I could not imagine Aunt Agatha or any of her friends leaving the diversions of London to seek nature's solitudes in mid-winter. "They don't know how to enjoy themselves," said Cathy, who had a fine scorn for town-dwellers. "I would rather have a ramble over the fells in the snow, or a scamper on Lady after the hounds, than all the parties and pantomimes you could offer me." The mound proved to be a small green hillock in the corner of a very stony field close to the bridge. "It's just the kind of place the prehistoric people used to bury their chiefs under," declared Cathy. "Don't you remember the pictures I showed you in Mother's book? There ought to be a skeleton in the middle, and all the drinking-vessels and ornaments and things which they put in the grave with him. If we pull a few of these stones away I think we shall be able to dig; the soil seems fairly light." "It's very soft here," I said, putting in my spade as I spoke and turning up the turf without much difficulty. "So it is. Perhaps a rabbit has burrowed there and loosened the earth. We'll go on here, as it seems an easy place." We had not dug more than a foot deep when Cathy's spade struck upon something hard. "Stop, Philippa! Be careful!" she cried. "If there's really anything here we mustn't spoil it on any account." She went down on her knees, and, putting her hand into the hole we had dug, began to feel about cautiously. "There is! There actually is!" she exclaimed, and with eyes shining with delight she drew forth a small round vessel fashioned somewhat in the shape of an urn. It appeared to be made of baked clay, and was broken and crumbling round the top and stained with darkish marks below. "It must be two thousand years old or more," said Cathy, in a voice of rapture. "And there's something inside it too!" She turned it carefully upside down, and out fell a few little bones and five worn and rusty-looking coins. "Now, this _is_ a discovery," she continued. "No doubt it was a Celtic chief who was buried here. They would burn his body first, and put his bones in the urn along with a few Roman coins. You can't see the marks on them, can you? Never mind, we'll rub them up when we go home. What an addition to the collection! _Sha'n't_ we crow over the boys, just!" We filled up the hole in the mound again, and went home elated with pride, feeling that the British Museum itself might justly envy us our possession. The boys were hanging about the gate as though they were waiting for our return, though they certainly could not have known where we had been that afternoon. "Hullo! What have you got there?" they cried, as Cathy produced her treasure. "Don't ever dare to chaff me again about antiquities," she announced. "What do you say to this?" It might have been fancy, but I certainly thought I saw a wink pass between Dick and Edward. Perhaps, however, I was mistaken, since they all seemed duly impressed.