Nikka was digging furiously with the chisel at what looked to be a dark stone in the very center of the empty area.
"It's an inner wood panel," he grunted over his shoulder. "I can feel something behind it."
There was a splintering noise, and the "stone" fell apart. Behind it was a shallow recess, perhaps nine inches square, completely filled by a rusty iron box. Nikka levered the box out, and handed it to Hugh.
"Your ancestress was a clever old person," he commented, dropping beside us on the couch. "Fancy her figuring that the inner panel would prevent the recess from sounding hollow when it was rapped."
The box was about three inches deep. It was unlocked, and Hugh lifted the cover without difficulty. Inside were two papers, very brittle and yellow from the heat of the chimney. The first was a torn fragment from a household account book:
"Septr. ye 2nde, 1592.
"Paid Conrad of Nurmburgge ye Germanne masonne:
item, for sealinge ye Olde Cryptte belowe ye Priors
House: item, for ye engine for ye Priors Vent:
item, for ye pannellinge in ye Gunneroom £17 s9 d4
item, two boxes of Flanders iron s7
—————
"Accompte £17 s16 d4"
And below this was written:
"And I sent Hyme forth of ye Vilage thatte Hee might not have Chaunce to talk howbeeit Hee ys clousemouthed and Hath littel Englysh."
It was impossible not to laugh at the invincible determination of Lady Jane.
"What did she do with the second box?" I suggested.