With hands that trembled so I could scarcely hold it, I snatched the quilt off the bed, and starting at the central figure, counted four squares to the right and three diagonally. But the square that I arrived at felt precisely like all the others. There was nothing under it save the thick soft stuffing of the quilt.
“You’ve got it upside down, miss,” observed Jane, who had been watching me uncomprehendingly, puzzled, but much cooler than I.
“Upside down?”
“Yes,” and she pointed to the central square.
I turned it around and tried the same formula—four to the right, diagonally three. What was this, rustling beneath my fingers? Not cotton nor wool, but something stiff, crinkling in my grasp like paper—like stocks—like bonds!
“Jane!” I gasped, falling to my knees in sudden weakness; “Jane, oh, Jane, I’ve found it!”
“Found it, miss?” repeated Jane, in bewilderment.
“Yes—the treasure! Oh, Jane!” and I was on my feet again galvanized into action at the thought. “We must get to Plumfield! We must get to Plumfield, or it will be too late!”
The meaning of it all burst in upon Jane’s understanding like a lightning-flash, and she staggered and grew faint under the shock.
“Jane,” I cried, seeing from her staring eyes that heroic measures were necessary, “if you faint now I’ll never speak to you again!” and I actually pinched her earnestly, viciously, on the arm. “Go tell Abner to hitch up the horse,” I added, “just as quick as he can. A minute or two may mean—”