“Is it the lost jewels?” said Wyn, bewildered. “Why, who ever would have thought of looking in a tree for them?”
“As if they hadn’t been looking in all the holes in the wood,” said Florence, “and you could have told them of another. Didn’t you know?”
“I hated coming here without Mr Edgar,” said Wyn.
“Now, not another thing must be done till Sir Philip knows, and Mr Cunningham, and Harry Whittaker too. Stay there, Wyn Warren; don’t touch the tree. Come, Florence, and tell Sir Philip we have got them,” said Lady Carleton.
Sir Philip declared that the rest of the jewels must be taken out in the presence of those most nearly concerned, and hurried messengers were sent to summon them; while Sir Philip, the Ravenshurst keeper, and Wyn patrolled round the tree, as if they thought that the jays and the wood-pigeons would carry off the precious discovery.
The short September evening had closed in, and the wood was all dusky and dewy, when at last Mr Cunningham and Alwyn, Harry Whittaker, Sir Philip and Lady Carleton, Wyn and Florence by right of discovery, the two head-keepers, and the village constable, all gathered, by the light of the rising moon and of some half-dozen lanterns, round the tree.
“Now, Warren,” said Mr Cunningham, “cut away till you lay the bottom of the hole open.” Wyn held the light, the keeper gave two or three cuts with a small axe, and a great piece of the rotten bark gave way under the stroke.
“You can look in now, sir,” he said. “Give us the lantern, Wyn.”
Sir Philip and Mr Cunningham peered into the hole, which seemed to be full of decayed wood, soft and crumbling.
“Will Lady Carleton see if she can find anything?” said Alwyn.