Monday was as excited as myself, all he could exclaim was, "Oh, la, la! Oh, la, la!" which was with him a mark of supreme delight.
We fetched the yard measure, and commenced our survey, as I shrewdly guessed the fine old mulberry tree had something to do with the calculations; if so the distance from the mulberry tree (Murier accounting for the letter M) to the walnut tree would be twenty-four yards; so we measured, but could not make the distance correct, as we made it 26-2/3 yards, or just eight feet too much. This quite nonplussed us, and our excitement greatly abated; but we were not yet vanquished, and set our wits to work to discover the meaning of another of the letters from which we could take further measurements.
Being near N (the walnut tree) I walked round the garden wall to the point marked EC, but could there find no landmark at all from which to measure. A century ago something may have stood there, but now it was a bare spot. Here was another rebuff which seemed to upset my theory altogether, and Monday with long visage said,
"Crusoe, you are on the wrong scent, you have 'shaken hands with a shadow.'"
"Wait a bit, Monday. 'A cracked pitcher will hold some water,' and although I may be wrong on some of the points, I may find at least one correct one presently."
We then walked along to the corner of the wall at the angle of which was the letter P. At this point stood the well.
"What is French for 'well', Monday."
"Puit."
"Puit?"
At this I gave a yell of delight.