“Now that’s enough,” cried Sammy. “We don’t want any threats;” and, before Selby was aware of his intention, the other had seized him by the wrists and was calling to us to secure him with the cord I had carried from the boat. He cursed and struggled violently, but in the hands of the four of us he was quickly bound and rendered powerless, much to his chagrin. He commenced shouting, whereupon I took out my handkerchief and gagged him tightly with it. Then, on his refusal to walk, we all four carried him into the roofless castle and there bound him to a big iron ring that we found in one of the walls, and thus made him our prisoner.
It was the only way. The fellow intended mischief, for we found in his pocket a loaded revolver. Having relieved him of that, we left him there, secured in a spot where he could not observe our movements.
Without loss of time we returned to the place we had marked, and the athletic Sammy, laughing over Selby’s utter defeat, set his face towards the distant mountain of Bengairn and walked fifty-six paces, all three of us walking beside him to check is measurements.
“Seek there,” I read from my notes, “for my lady Lucrezia’s treasure is hidden at a place no man knoweth.” Then, omitting several sentences, I came to the words: “Item: How to discover the place at Threave: First find a piece of ruined wall of great stones, one bearing a circle cut upon it as large as a man’s hand. Then, measuring five paces towards the barbican, find—” And there the record broke off.
“Look?” cried Fred, pointing to a small piece of ruined wall about a foot high cropping up out of the tangled weeds and nettles. “Those are evidently the stones, and yet you’d never notice it unless it were pointed out.”
We all four rushed to the spot he indicated, and, on tearing the weeds away, there, sure enough, we discovered that one of the large moss-grown moor-stones bore a circle cut upon it about the size of one’s palm.
“Five paces towards the barbican!” cried Walter. “One—two—three—four—five! Here you are?” and he stamped heavily upon the grass. “Why,” he exclaimed, “it’s hollow!”
We all stamped, and sure enough there was a cavity beneath.
With Fred, I rushed off to the hole dug by our enemies, and, obtaining their tools, brought them back. Although the record in The Closed Book was carried no farther, it was evident that some opening lay underneath where we stood.
As the excavation made by our enemies was three hundred yards away, in an opposite direction, we concluded that they had only deciphered the first portion of the directions and not that final or unfinished sentence in the record, a page of which was missing.