It was now dusk, permitting no clear view at a distance but quite enough light to see any floating object. Keeping on the same level as the raft I pushed it in front of me underwater until it grounded. That did not matter. It would never ground at all off the Box Rock.
I stood up and removed the mask, waiting for the vital comment. Elsa was clapping.
‘I could swear it floated across the river on its own. I could just see the rod once or twice but I’m sure I wouldn’t have done if I hadn’t known it was there. And on the tideway, ripples and a bit of spray will hide the bottom. It left a little wash behind even on the calm river. Denzil will believe it’s a real miracle. Dare we let him?’
I said I’d love to – his reactions would be so fascinating. But he had to be in the secret in order to organise the reception party.
We returned to our hotel, where Elsa called up the major to make an appointment for next day. He said that he would meet us in the afternoon at the sapling stump – which indicated that by now the druidicals had returned to the routine of the commune instead of wandering disconsolately through the woods.
In the morning I visited the port offices to find out when it would be high water at Box Rock – a question apparently that only the river could answer. I was told that at Sharpness and Lydney there could be no doubt, but within the horseshoe bend it might depend on the wind. Since the tides were now neap there would be little or no bore. At the Box Rock and Bullo the top of the tide – give or take ten minutes – should be about 8.50 p.m. the day after tomorrow and the slack water wouldn’t last long. It would not yet be high tide at Gloucester, but the ebb would certainly have started below the Noose.
We found the major at the sapling stump, looking military but not to the extent of visionary stirrups. I explained to him how the cauldron would cross the river and asked if he could guarantee that his six pagans would be on the bank just upstream from the Box Rock on Thursday at half-past eight; they might have to chant or meditate for half an hour or more until the dusk was of the right texture.
I could see that his conscience bothered him. A miracle he had asked for, but not such a bare-faced miracle. He sighed but, yes, he was sure the party could be arranged at the right time provided Elsa returned with him now to Broom Lodge and mixed normally with the colonists.
‘Carry on as if no inner circle existed, just like your uncle.’
‘Are they likely to bow to me as they pass?’ Elsa asked.
‘I’ll settle that with Raeburn.’
‘Good God!’ I exclaimed. ‘Is he installed already?’
‘He is high priest. The rest will follow.’
‘Has Elsa got to preach to them?’
‘Not her job, old boy! That’s where I come in. All Elsa has to do is to visit the blacksmith’s shop and tell them they must learn to work in gold, that gold came before tin and is far more sacred. She will show them a sign.’
‘What about the training?’
‘Club porter. Nothing he doesn’t know. I’ll ask him to find me a young goldsmith who’d like the job. And must be an earnest Christian.’
‘We have to find a way of delivering the raw material.’
‘Darling, the priestess looks after that. I think the cauldron should not be empty. We’ll put a few ingots in it and I shall scatter them in the meadow like Flora with a cornu-what’s-it.’
‘But we haven’t any ingots with us.’
‘Yes we have. I always carry three in my bag for luck.’
I told the major to see that their torches were alight, and flaming red. As the marvel approached, Elsa would walk into the water, being very careful not to step over the edge into the Box Hole, undo the clamp – she had already practised that – and display the cauldron.
‘Do I beckon to it, or what?’
‘Just hold out your hands as if you knew it was coming. Do whatever you feel like. You were so magnificent at Wigpool. Nothing that I suggest could be as good.’
‘Never did like night operations,’ the major grumbled. ‘Always go wrong.’ But it was not really the operation which was disturbing him. ‘Tell me, Piers! In your heart do you believe I am justified in this grave step?’
‘I do. The end justifies the means. What would Arthur have been without Merlin? And how would the Household Cavalry impress the public if they rode in battledress instead of the masquerade of plumes and breastplate?’
That cheered him up a bit, and so we parted. The next I should see of Elsa – well, I should never see her at all until it was safe to show my head above water. I comforted myself with the thought that if the miracle misfired we could always swim to whatever safety the Severn offered.
On Thursday evening I drove to Arlington and down the lane to the river. When the few tourists had gone and my car was the only one left, I walked along the embankment till I was above the tail of the sands and nearly opposite the Box Rock. The tide was rising fast over a good stretch of muddy beach and, as usual, I was quite alone. Two journeys brought out from the car my underwater gear, the cauldron and its raft.
After sunset I had a lot of work to do on the floats. On the upper river I had taken the cauldron across empty, not remembering that in the tideway it would soon fill with water. Since I could not tell how much would splash into it, I filled it full before the start and added Elsa’s ingots.
The distance across the river to the Box Rock was rather more than half a mile, of which the last three hundred yards were deep water and the rest shoals. I had to walk or swim over these banks until I could reach the channel. That was a difficulty I had not foreseen. The force of the tide was too great for it to be done, and there was not enough water to float the raft at its proper depth. The only hope was to go in much further down-river, where the channel swung over to the left bank, and allow the tide to carry me up.
This move towards Hock Cliff wasted more time but was all to the good, for the summer evening was still too light for my purpose. I came to rest on the sands opposite the Box Rock and looked across the river to the meadow alongside it. I could distinguish no more than moving figures, among them one in white which had to be Elsa. So it was safe to stay where I was, showing only head and shoulders, until slack water at the top of the tide when I could be sure of keeping a straight course to the rock or very near it. Dead calm was essential, for I dared not show my head.
Once I had set off and was under water I was desperately convinced that this blind navigation could not possibly work, but more or less it did. I knew that my former, deadly exploration of the Box Hole would be useful, and kept sounding for depth, allowing cauldron and raft to float on by themselves. I hit the rock too far upstream, turned along it and then had difficulty keeping the raft close enough in, so that I knew I must be right over the Box Hole and that the ebb had begun. I felt the raft tip a little. That ought to be Elsa removing the cauldron and deliberately shaking the rod to let me know. At once I threw my weight – nearly neutral but just enough – on to the raft in order to sink the top of the rod below water. Looking up, all I could see was a rippling surface tinged with red from the torches.
Curiosity was uncontrollable. I could not bear to be blind any longer. I felt my way inshore to a point where the bank was lower and I could see round the back of the rock to the meadow. Folly! But I hoped that in the fast-failing light I would be mistaken for a tree trunk if anyone glanced my way.
I need not have worried. The scene was beyond my fantasies, and how many faiths and legends were embodied in it was beyond conjecture. The torches flamed red in a semi-circle, and in front of them Elsa, spreading the white wings of her sleeves, was holding out the cauldron to Raeburn who was on his knees. The major too was on his knees. I cannot guess in what time his mind was. His mission, in his dreams, was to the pagans. It was now so in reality. I suppose that symbols are what you make of them. For the moment the Guardian of the Grail was present at its return.