The triangular slab measured just eleven inches along its longest side, eight along its second, and six along its third, with a thickness of barely two and a half inches. It was precisely the kind of object that invites puzzlement: too small to have been a monument in its own right, too deliberately worked to be accidental.

When Ordnance Survey officers were gathering material for their 1838 Letters, a systematic effort to document the topography, antiquities, and local lore of Ireland parish by parish, they noted the stone lying on the west side of the grave of St Cummin in the northern half of the graveyard. Its modest scale led those who observed it to suspect it had broken away from a larger slab at some earlier point. Strengthening that theory was the close resemblance between its incised cross and the decoration on a separate cross-slab that still stands on the same western side of the saint's grave. The two pieces, one upright and surviving, one fragmentary and diminutive, appeared to share a common visual vocabulary. Whether the small slab was ever reunited with a parent stone, or whether it represents the remnant of a now-vanished early medieval monument, is impossible to say. What is clear is that it has since disappeared entirely; its current location is unknown.