‘It’s all to do with the ancient Celts,’ Mister Lewis went on. ‘That stone is a sacred stone that the Celts brought with them as they were chased across Europe by the Roman army. When the first Celts arrived here, they decided that Ireland would be the place to live.’
‘They hadn’t much choice,’ I put in. ‘This would have been the last bus stop after Europe. Any further and they’d have drowned in the Atlantic Ocean.’
Mister Lewis scowled. ‘Don’t interrupt, boy,’ he said. ‘This is serious.’
‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘Go on.’
‘Well, they made a ceremonial circle right here in the middle of Ireland, and their druid placed the stone in the centre. From then on, that stone was the most important thing to the Celts.’
‘How do you know all this?’ I asked.
‘Because I’m a historian,’ replied Mister Lewis grandly.
‘Was,’ I said.
‘No need to remind me,’ muttered Mister Lewis. ‘Anyway, when I was digging here I discovered that stone − it was broken in two. Then I dug deeper and I discovered the remains of the stone circle. I could scarcely believe it.’
‘How did you know what it was?’
Mister Lewis sniffed impatiently. ‘Research, lad. That circle of stones went all around the nearby fields. When I realised its importance as a sacred place, I knew I’d have to cover it up and leave it in peace. So I bought any unusual stones from the farmers, at one penny each, to stop them being broken and scattered through ploughing or building. I thought if I simply buried them all together here I’d be doing a service to our ancestors. And yet …’ he paused and put his head in his hands. Not in a ghostly way like those pictures you see of spooks carrying their heads around damp castles. No, this was a worried head-in-hands thing. Just like you and me when there’s a surprise maths test or a letter home from the school principal.
‘And yet?’ I prompted.
‘And yet, as a historian, I felt I should pass part of my discovery on to heritage. So,’ he paused again. ‘So I buried one half of the circular stone. I gave the other half to the museum. I didn’t say where I’d found it. I just made up a story about it.’
‘In case there would be lots of history types coming here poking around?’ I asked.
‘Indeed,’ said Mister Lewis. ‘But it wasn’t the history types who were to bother me,’ he said. ‘It was Celts and their druid.
‘Huh?’ I exclaimed. ‘You mean one of those ancient guys in long frocks? Sort of like witchdoctors who scared people with their weird chanting and mad spells? Wow! I used to think druids were just made up. So druids were really real?’
Mister Lewis nodded. ‘I should have known they’d come for the stone.’ He sniffed and wiped his dead nose on his sleeve. ‘Just like they’ve come for your friend and the big lady …’