[CHAPTER XXI--Our Search for the Treasure]
The excitement of the previous night banished sleep from our eyes, and rising betimes we formed our plans for the day's work. Now that Joyce had gone to his last account there was no longer need for caution or concealment of our plans, and to the utmost astonishment of the crafty host of the Wentworth Inn, I was presented to him as the rightful lord of Holwick.
We thereupon breakfasted, and then made our way to the castle grounds. Viewed by daylight the whole scene was changed. The grey old tower, blackened by powder and fire, was so badly damaged as to be useless as a place of abode, little tendrils of ivy already serving to clothe the ruin with a kindly garb. The stream that looked so black in the darkness now glittered in the warm sunlight, as if unmindful of the tragedy that had been enacted but a few hours before.
A careful search amid the dense masses of weed failed to give any clue to the mysterious disappearance of the double-dyed villain, so we concluded that his body must have escaped the tenacious grip of the thick vegetable growth.
On all sides rose little mounds of excavated earth, showing how vigorously Joyce had pursued his quest for the hidden treasure, each mound being thirty-two paces from the wall.
"Now, Aubrey, let's to work," exclaimed Felgate, throwing off his cloak and vest and rolling up his sleeves in a manner that showed his enthusiasm.
"Here, take the document and apply the directions to the actual place," I remarked. "This is the west side; yonder are two tall fir trees. Now, measure off thirty-two paces."
Felgate commenced to do so, Drake following at his heels.
"... Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty---- Ha!"
For the thirtieth pace had brought him to the edge of the stream, and the thirty-second would be as near as anything right in the centre of the river bed.