Ten minutes later they were together bending over a great pile of ancient maps. Done on sheepskin and vellum, gray and brown with age, yet with colors as bright as on the day they were drawn, these maps spoke of an age that was gone and of a map-making art that is lost forever.
"Look at this one!" exclaimed the girl. "The date's on it—1450. Made before the days of Columbus. And look! It is like the one Vincent had the photograph of; the most like of any."
"Yes, but not the same," said Curlie. "See, those strangely shaped islands in the lower, right-hand corner are not on it; neither are the cherubs blowing to imitate the wind."
"That's true," said the girl in a disappointed tone, "I had hoped it might be the same map. It might have told us something."
Suddenly Curlie was struck with an idea. Leaving the girl's side, he approached the librarian.
"Have any of these maps been photographed recently?" he asked in a low tone.
"Not for several years," she answered. "But there are reproductions of these and others. They're in a bound volume in the next room. There the maps are reproduced on a large scale and a description of each is given. The lady in charge will show you."
Curlie tiptoed into that room. He was soon turning the pages of a large book which resembled an atlas.
After studying each successive page for some time, he came to a halt with a suppressed exclamation.
There, staring up at him, was a reproduction of the very map which had been photographed for Vincent Ardmore and, if further proof were lacking, there on the opposite page was a reproduction of the writing on the back of it, with a translation in fine print below.