"I was sure of it--and I am sure of it; as sure as any one possibly can be."
"May I ask," inquired Jack, with mock severity, "who is it who is interrupting now? Will you let the gentleman go on?"
Graham went on.
"'But where,' I said, 'do you think he is likely to have found such a hiding-place?'
"Old Nicholls looked at me, if possible, more shrewdly than ever.
"'At Clover Cottage. I knew the man. The salient events of his life happened there. In his whimsical way he regarded it as part and parcel of himself. I have heard him say so half a dozen times. His heart was in the place. Whatever he did conceal, was concealed within its four walls. Before the furniture was sold, I had it overhauled by an expert--some of the things were pulled to pieces. His verdict was that nothing was hidden there. Had I had my way I would have dismantled the whole house--only Hawkins was against me. He said very properly, that if the heir-at-law proved cantankerous, I might be made to smart in damages to the tune of a pretty penny. So I abstained. All the same, if the house was in the market to-morrow, I'd be a purchaser at a good round sum--if all rights of treasure trove went with it. You may tell the present tenants'--here he looked at me in a fashion which took me a little aback--'if you have the honour of their acquaintance, that we keep a sharp eye on the property; that it is not to be tampered with to the extent of one jot or tittle; and that not so much as one inch of paper is to be taken off the wall except with our express permission.'"
Ella turned to Madge.
"What do you say to that?" she exclaimed. "That knocks on the head all your notions of pulling the house to pieces."
Madge was defiant.
"Does it? It does nothing of the kind. Not after what I found in this very room last night. In the face of that, I care nothing for Mr. Nicholls, or for his threats either. What do you think yourself, Mr. Graham?"