Walter went out again, and returned after an absence of about
three-quarters of an hour. They had telegraphed to Peterborough, he
said, but of the nature of the message he knew nothing. After he had
left me it appeared that he watched the pair ascend the curious old
triangular bridge which now stands in the centre of the village at the
juncture of crossroads, and once, no doubt, spanned two narrow rivers
long since dried up. On the top of this old Saxon bridge, approached by
three flights of much-worn steps, Lord Glenelg and the hunchback halted,
and stood gazing around. Then again Graniani drew another plan from his
pocket, took bearings of the northern angle of the one remaining tower
of the abbey, and, his compass in hand, pointed away to a comfortable
old-fashioned stone house in East Street, between the abbey and bridge,
the brass plate on which showed it to be occupied by a Mr Wyche, a
solicitor.
Openly, and watched by the idlers at the bridge, the lounging place of
the villagers, they made a measurement to the corner of the house in
question, going over the ground twice in order to make no
miscalculation, Walter watching them from the bar window of a small
beer-house. The villagers evidently supposed the pair to be surveyors,
and took but little notice; nevertheless Wyman kept careful observation
upon their every movement.
"What they intend doing at the corner of that house in East Street I
can't for the life of me imagine. They made a small mark in charcoal on
the wall about two feet from the ground; then again returning to the top
of the bridge and referring to the plan, took their bearings a second
time and marked a spot right out of the village to the north-east of the
abbey, in the centre of the field about ten yards behind the old
windmill."
"And then?" I asked, much interested.
"Then, having done this, they went to the telegraph office and wired to
someone in Peterborough--afterwards returning to the `White Hart,' and
engaging beds for the night, saying that they had decided not to return
until the morrow."
"Why, surely they intend to make a search for the treasure?" I gasped.
"Without doubt," was his reply. "My theory is that they've telegraphed
to some of their friends who are awaiting them in Peterborough, and that
they mean to make a secret search tonight when all the villagers have
gone to sleep and everything is quiet."
When dusk fell we again called upon the rector, explained how we had
discovered the presence of our rivals and their intentions, and arranged
to return to him at ten o'clock. The feature of the case that aroused
the rector's indignation--and most justly, too--was the intention of the
others to search without permission. To me, their mode of facing
matters boldly showed that they were in possession of positive
information, and relied upon securing the treasure and getting away
before anyone knew of their intentions.
When Walter once took up an inquiry, or set out upon a journey, he never
rested until his object was accomplished. He was one of those men who
seem continually active, and unable to rest in idleness for ten
consecutive minutes, and, happy possessor of such a fine physique, was
never tired. We watched the pair away from the "White Hart" again, for
they were both smoking and wandering about, apparently enjoying the
rural quiet, but in reality awaiting darkness. Then, when they had gone
away--in the direction of the old South Eau, we learned--we both lounged
into their inn, and called for ale, and chatted with the rosy-cheeked
servant who brought it. A judicious sixpence released her tongue, and
by careful questions we soon learned all we wished about the two guests.
They were staying till morning, but did not expect any visitors. One,
the tall gentleman, was a doctor, and might be recalled; therefore their
coachman from Peterborough, who would remain there also, might be called
up during the night, and they would be compelled to leave. His lordship
had recourse to a clever fiction then. He was a doctor who might be
called in the middle of the night! I suppose it never occurred to the
rustic mind that, if a doctor, his practice was not in Crowland, and
therefore he was scarcely likely to receive an urgent call.
The other man, she told us, was a foreigner. They had brought a bag
full of papers and plans, but kept it locked. Both took a great
interest in old ruins, and for that reason they had taken some
measurements.
One fact she forgot she remarked before going out. The tall gentleman
had said that a young lady might arrive during the evening and inquire
for him. If she did, she was to be asked to wait.
A young lady! Was it possible that Judith was about to follow her
father there?
As ten o'clock chimed from the abbey bells we took our candles, and,
wishing the worthy landlord good-night, went to our rooms and there
waited until all was still. Crowlanders retire early to bed, and
presumably the policeman, like all others, has to meet another guardian
of the peace, perhaps, at the end of that long, straight old road called
Kennulph's Drove, that runs towards Peterborough, for we saw nothing of
him when we carefully crept down, drew the bolts, unlocked the door,
and, closing it noiselessly after us, made our way to the rectory.
Mr Mason, ready attired in hat and overcoat, opened his door
noiselessly ere we had approached it, and we slipped into his study to
tell him all that we had witnessed. Then, feeling that we ought to go
forth at once and take up our position to watch, we all went out,
skirting the churchyard and passing down behind the high hawthorn hedge
which formed the boundary of the field wherein were traces of the fish
ponds.
The night was dark and starless, with that oppressive stillness that
foretokened a storm. Behind us lay the black ruins of the abbey,
rearing high and gloomy; and as we passed along, led by the rector, who
knew every nook and corner, a silence fell upon us.
The rector's object was to approach the spot marked with the paper and
stone as near as possible, yet having good cover to conceal us. In this
he was eminently successful; for, having traversed the field on two
sides, he suddenly suggested that we should crouch down in a low hedge
only thirty yards from the scene of operations.
We conversed together in low, expectant whispers for almost an hour,
until, indeed, the rector began to fear that our vigilance was in vain,
when of a sudden we heard on the hard road far distant the sound of
wheels approaching, on the road skirting the village on the Welland
side, Mr Mason declared.
They approached until they had gained the point where we ourselves had
left the road, then stopped. The vehicle bore no lights, but from where
we lay concealed we heard men's voices in greeting, as though his
lordship and the hunchback had met them there by appointment, and then
we heard the jingle of spades and the clatter of iron as some implements
were apparently taken from the cart.
Without loss of time the party approached us; and a lantern being turned
on by one of them, search was made for the piece of paper held down by
the stone. This was quickly found, whereupon more lights were turned
upon the spot, and then we saw that the treasure seekers numbered four;
two of them were newcomers, apparently well equipped for the
undertaking.
So close were we that we could overhear nearly all their conversation,
for in that still night all sound travelled a great distance. But their
words were few. Lord Glenelg assumed direction of the work, and before
long the whole four, his lordship included, were busy with pick and
spade, making a large square excavation. Their lamps showed an
excellent light upon the work, and were additionally useful to us, for
we lay back in the dark shadow, impossible of discovery.
Suddenly, as one of the men bent down to examine the ground, the light
fell upon his big, clean-shaven countenance, Walter gripped my arm,
whispering "See! That's the fellow Selby! Can you see his face? He's
the man who probably holds the missing page of The Closed Book."
I looked, and obtained a fairly good sight of his dark, sinister-looking
visage--a hard, clean-shaven, furrowed face that had the miscreant
stamped upon it. He seemed to be wearing a rough suit of dark serge,
with a soft felt hat, which he had pushed to the back of his head. Seen
under such auspices by the uncertain light of the lamp, he was not the
kind of man one would care to associate with: loosely built, gross in
manner, and deep of voice.
I watched him narrowly for a few moments, but he soon continued digging
with the others, and when he stood upright his face was not within the
zone of light. All worked with a will, knowing, of course, that the
undertaking must be finished before the dawn, and from all four the
perspiration soon poured, and their quick, deep breaths reached us even
where we crouched, content within ourselves that their labour must be in
vain.
Through nearly two hours they toiled on, removing the earth around a
line of huge stones which appeared to be the foundations of one or other
of the monastic buildings long since swept away. Time after time the
abbey chimes sent out their solemn music far over the wide, misty
fenlands; but with pick and spade and crowbar they slaved away in their
efforts to recover the gold and jewels, the great treasure of what was
one of the wealthiest abbeys in England.
The hole they had made was so deep that two of the conspirators were
down working out of our sight. The other two were Selby and the
hunchback.
Suddenly, above the sharp ring of the picks, we heard a heavy thud, and
then another.
"Look?" broke from Selby excitedly. "At last! Here's the first of the
chests--bound with iron. Hark!"
And again he struck it heavily with his pick, while his companions were
around him instantly, dropping on their knees and examining the find.
"That's one of them, without a doubt!" cried Lord Glenelg, as excited as
any of the others. "Come! Let's get it out. How very fortunate that
we fixed the exact spot!"
The hearts of all three of us sank within us. How unfortunate for us,
after all, that Walter had moved their paper-mark from its original
position!