The Virgin of the Sun | Page 6

moth-riddled
curtains.
Not far from this bedstead, propped in an intoxicated way against the
sloping wall of the old house, stood the clock which I desired. It was
one of the first "regulator" clocks with a wooden pendulum, used by the
maker himself to check the time-keeping of all his other clocks, and
enclosed in a chaste and perfect mahogany case of the very best style of
its period. So beautiful was it, indeed, that it had been an instance of
"love at first sight" between us, and although there was an
estrangement on the matter of settlements, or in other words over the
question of price, now I felt that never more could that clock and I be
parted.
So I agreed to give old Potts the £20 or, to be accurate, £18 14s. which
he asked on the 10 per cent. rise principle, thankful in my heart that he
had not made it more, and prepared to go. As I turned, however, my
eye fell upon a large chest of the almost indestructible yellow cypress
wood of which were made, it is said, the doors of St. Peter's at Rome
that stood for eight hundred years and, for aught I know, are still
standing, as good as on the day when they were put up.
"Marriage coffer," said Potts, answering my unspoken question.
"Italian, about 1600?" I suggested.
"May be so, or perhaps Dutch made by Italian artists; but older than
that, for somebody has burnt 1597 on the lid with a hot iron. Not for
sale, not for sale at all, much too good to sell. Just you look inside it,
the old key is tied to the spring lock. Never saw such poker-work in my
life. Gods and goddesses and I don't know what; and Venus sitting in
the middle in a wreath of flowers with nothing on, and holding two
hearts in her hands, which shows that it was a marriage chest. Once it
was full of some bride's outfit, sheets and linen and clothes, and God
knows what. I wonder where she has got to to-day. Some place where
the moth don't eat clothes, I hope. Bought it at the break-up of an

ancient family who fled to Norfolk on the revocation of the Edict of
Nantes--Huguenot, of course. Years ago, years ago! Haven't looked
into it for many years, indeed, but think there's nothing there but
rubbish now."
Thus he mumbled on while he found and untied the old key. The spring
lock had grown stiff from disuse and want of oil, but at length it turned
and reopened the chest revealing the poker-work glories on the inner
side of the lid and elsewhere. Glories they were indeed, never had I
seen such artistry of the sort.
"Can't see it properly," muttered Potts, "windows want washing,
haven't been done since my wife died, and that's twenty years ago. Miss
her very much, of course, but thank God there's no spring- cleaning
now. The things I've seen broken in spring-cleaning! yes, and lost, too.
It was after one of them that I told my wife that now I understood why
the Mahomedans declare that women have no souls. When she came to
understand what I meant, which it took her a long time to do, we had a
row, a regular row, and she threw a Dresden figure at my head. Luckily
I caught it, having been a cricketer when young. Well, she's gone now,
and no doubt heaven's a tidier place than it used to be--that is, if they
will stand her rummagings there, which I doubt. Look at that Venus,
ain't she a beauty? Might have been done by Titian when his paints ran
out, and he had to take to a hot iron to express his art. What, you can't
see her well? Wait a bit and I'll get a lantern. Can't have a naked candle
here--things too valuable; no money could buy them again. My wife
and I had another row about naked candles, or it may have been a
paraffin lamp. You sit in that old prayer-stool and look at the work."
Off he went crawling down the dusky stairs and leaving me wondering
what Mrs. Potts, of whom now I heard for the first time, could have
been like. An aggravating woman, I felt sure, for upon whatever points
men differ, as to "spring-cleaning" they are all of one mind. No doubt
he was better without her, for what did that dried-up old artist want
with a wife?
Dismissing Mrs. Potts from my mind, which, to tell the truth, seemed to
have no room for her shadowy and hypothetical entity, I fell to

examining the chest. Oh! it was lovely. In two minutes the clock was
deposed and that chest