"Again!" Dee smiled as he looked upwards to a star just twinkling through the cloud. Like some benignant spirit, as it alighted on the dark bosom of the moat, the short sharp gust fluttering over, it seemed to hover there for a while ere it departed.
Turning out of the path, they approached a thick yew-tree flanking one corner of the garden.
"I think we may climb here, Master Dee, with little risk;—there seems a fair gap beside its trunk."
They scrambled up a high bank, thrusting themselves, with some difficulty, through the opening. The Doctor now, looking round, began to recite his instructions:—"'Nine with twice seven northerly, and ACER, shall disappear. The mystical number added to the number enfolding itself. This shall be added to its own, towards the rising of the sun. Then turn half-round, and note well thy right foot;—what thou seest gather, and it shall lead thee on to perfection.' Good; but from what point shall we begin to count?" said the divine, in great perplexity.
"I know not," said Bartholomew, "unless it be from the sycamore tree at the opposite corner yonder by the old wall."
"Thou knowest the ground hereabout?" said the Doctor hastily.
"Peradventure I may," replied the other. "Being told aforetime of treasure that was hidden, I have wandered often, at odd times, round the garden."
"Lead the way, then; it may be this same Acer is the tree of which thou speakest. Time passes, and I would not miss this lucky hour for all my hopes of preferment."
Preceded by his guide, the Doctor soon came within range of a noble sycamore that threw out its huge branches in all the pride of a long and undisturbed occupation.
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