'"Twenty-three and a half from N.W. Sixteen and three-quarters from
N.E."--There, that's all. Now I seal it up and give it to you to keep
safe till I ask ye for it, or you hear of my being trampled down by the
enemy.'
'What does it mean?' she asked, as she received the paper.
'Clk! Ha! ha! Why, that's the distance of the box from the two corners
of the cellar. I measured it before you came. And, my honey, to make
all sure, if the French soldiery are after ye, tell your mother the
meaning on't, or any other friend, in case they should put ye to death,
and the secret be lost. But that I am sure I hope they won't do, though
your pretty face will be a sad bait to the soldiers. I often have wished
you was my daughter, honey; and yet in these times the less cares a man
has the better, so I am glad you bain't. Shall my man drive you home?'
'No, no,' she said, much depressed by the words he had uttered. 'I can
find my way. You need not trouble to come down.'
'Then take care of the paper. And if you outlive me, you'll find I have
not forgot you.'