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when I drew that in school."

She shook her head, reading out the writing across the top. "Master William Drummond. Aged nine years. Class

3a."

Ben studied it. "Pretty good for a nine-year-old, Will."

Will's ma slit the pasted backing strip with her fingernail.

"Aye, Will drew it for me, I've always liked it. But that's not what I want to show you. Take a look at this."

From behind her son's childhood artwork, Sarah slid out a paper, yellowed with age.

" 'Tis an ancient map of Chapelvale village an' its surroundings!" She unfolded two creases where the map had

been folded under, one toward the top and the other toward the bottom of the map, commenting, "I can remember

lookin' at this when I was a little girl, don't know who put it there, or where it came from, but as you see, the map is

bigger'n the frame. Whoever put it there had to fold the paper to make it fit. It's a very old map of hereabouts, but

except for the railway station an' one or two other bits, Chapelvale ain't changed much, has it. Now then, missy, can

you read the writin' on the parts that were folded under? My eyes ain't up to it."

Amy held the map up to the lamplight and read haltingly. " 'E.D.W Anno Domini... 1661'! That's what it says

along the top. The bottom bit has two lines of writing:

"Lord, if it be thy will and pleasure,

Keep safe for the house of De Winn thy treasure."

The old ship's carpenter's voice shook with excitement. "Ben lad, those are the very words written on the two

bits o' paper I glued together. Here, look, I've got it with me!" He took the repaired paper from his back pocket and

read out the lines triumphantly:

"Lord, if it be thy will and pleasure,

Keep safe for the house of De Winn thy treasure."

"Word for word, the same! Well, sink me!"

Ben found himself laughing at his friend's delight. "Don't sink just yet, mate. Let's take a look at them

together—the writing seems the same. E.D.W. Ah, Edmund De Winn!"

Alex made a very sensible suggestion. "Your thin paper is almost like tracing paper, Jon. Why don't you lay it

on top of the map and see if the writing matches up?"

Jon passed the thin paper to Amy. "My hand's beginning to shake with excitement, you do it."

Brushing her dark hair aside, the girl placed the map flat on the table. With careful precision, she laid the thin

paper on top, nudging it gently until the two lines of writing were exactly on top of each other.

"It matches almost perfectly, every dot and loop of Edmund De Winn's writing. Top and bottom, line for line!"

Alex placed his thumbs at the far side of both papers. "I'll hold them steady, anybody got a pencil?"

Being a carpenter, Jon invariably had a well-sharpened pencil stub behind his ear, which he produced. He

winked at the boy. "Aha! I see your plan, shipmate. You want me to mark the map through the four holes in the tissue

paper. Hold her steady, now."

As the old seaman painstakingly marked the map through the four holes in the thin paper, Ben caught a thought

from the Labrador.

"Look at Winnie. There's a picture of hope, you can see she really believes things are starting to happen."

Ben returned the thought. "Aye, and it's not just her. Look at Will and Ma. Look at us all. I'm glad the angel sent

us here, pal. Smithers and his London gang don't know it yet, but I think they'll find these folk aren't too easy to ride

roughshod over anymore."

Will removed the thin paper from its position. They gathered around the table to view the pencil-dotted map as

he tapped a finger on the first mark he recognized. "Look 'ere, this is our farm, an' the well, too! Haha, we've already

solved one bit o' the puzzle, right, friends? Which is the next 'un? Come on, young feller. I'm beginnin' to like this!"

His ma clapped her hands together and rubbed them gleefully. "Me, too. Never thought I'd be part of a treasure

hunt!"

Alex tapped the flat stick against his hand, staring at the map. "Hmm, we've solved the first saint's problem:

that's Luke. So let's write Luke over the dot where this farmhouse is."

Jon nodded in admiration. "Well said, lad! So that leaves

Matthew, Mark, an' John. I think they'll be in a clockwise position, stands to reason, don't it?"

The astute old lady's eyes twinkled as she took the pencil, licking the point briefly. " 'Matthew, Mark, Luke, and

John, Bless the Bed that I Lie On.' Clockwise, eh, then this is the way it should go." She wrote lightly above the other

three dots thus:

Luke

Mark John

• •

Matthew

They went back to pondering the problem. Will stood silent, his arms folded, when suddenly his voice cut the

silence.

"St. John, that's the next one we should look at if we're goin' clockwise. Though I'm just thinkin', that next mark

is right where the railway station stands now."

His wife peered closely at the mark belonging to St. John. "When I went t' school ole Mr. Braithwaite told us

that's about where the blacksmith once 'ad his stables."

Now the meaning of the marks upon the stick dawned upon Ben. He took the flat piece of wood from Alex. "Of

course! Two horses and lots of letter Us, I'll bet the Us are meant to be horseshoes!"

Mrs. Winn squeezed Ben's hand. "Marvelous, I wish I was as quick-thinking as you! But I've just had an awful

thought. Supposing they built the railway station right over the stables, what then?"

Eileen frowned. "Let's hope not. Don't you go frettin' just yet, m'dear. We'll go an' see Mr. Braithwaite, he'll

know if anybody docs!"

The old lady sighed. "You're right, we'll just have to wait and see. Thank you for the lovely dinner, Eileen, you,

too, Sarah. Oh dear, it's getting late, we'd best get back home."

Mrs. Winn had the chalice wrapped in a clean teacloth that she intended leaving with Mr. Mackay the lawyer,

for safekeeping. They all climbed into the cart, and Will delivered them to their homes.

Ben had already laid his plans for the midnight encounter with Wilf Smithers. As Will was helping Mrs. Winn

from the gig, Ben winked at Amy, Alex, and Jon, his voice dropping to a whisper. "See you later."

It was still only ten o'clock when Ben assisted Mrs. Winn to her room. She thanked him. "What an exciting

evening, Ben, let's hope there's good news for us in the morning. Don't stay up too late, now, and lock up before you

go to bed. Oh dear, I'm exhausted!"

29.

BEN SAT AT THE KITCHEN TABLE, THE BIG, black Lab at his feet, each immersed in his own thoughts.

Horatio sat with his tail curled about both front paws, watching a moth beating against the outer window-pane, trying

vainly to reach the lamplight. It had been ten minutes since the hall clock chimed half past eleven.

Ben blinked and rubbed his eyes. "Come on, Ned, time to go." He took the kitchen key from its hook and

quietly opened the door to the rear of the house.

Horatio followed them out, purring. The big Labrador passed the cat a thought. "You can't come with us."

The cat replied mentally. "Prrrr, 'Ratio go catch butterflies."

The big moth that had been beating itself against the window flew into the kitchen and began circling the lamp.

The dog turned the cat around with a sweep of his paw, commenting, "Look, there's a moth, they're fatter than

butterflies, go and catch him. Bet you can't!"

Horatio curled his tail disdainfully. "Miaow, 'Ratio catch butterflies, prrrr, mop be easier to catch, you watch!"