I recollected that long and tantalizing list of gold and jewels in the vellum book which I had given again into Mr. Staffurth’s hands to re-examine, and sighed that they were not mine that I might marry Dorothy and give her a fitting and comfortable home.
One day I received quite an unexpected visit from Mr. Staffurth. As soon as he entered my room I saw by his flushed cheeks and excited manner that something unusual had occurred. He had even forgotten to remove his big spectacles, as he always did before he went out.
“It’s briefly this,” he said in reply to my eager demand. “The day before yesterday, while going through that vellum book again, there were two things that struck me for the first time. The first you will recollect, namely, that in the covers and on various folios is written in brown ink, very faded, and at a different date than when the book was first compiled, the numerical three. There are no fewer than nine huge threes in different parts of the book, but none of them have anything whatever to do with the context. The mystery of that sign puzzled me. It seemed as though it were placed there with some distinct object, for each was carefully drawn, and so boldly that it was evidently intended to arrest attention.”
“I recollect quite distinctly,” I said, interested. “I pointed them out to you one day, but they did not then appear to strike you as curious.”
“No,” answered the old man, “I was too engrossed in deciphering the manuscript at the time. But the second discovery I have made is still more curious, for I find in the back of the cover, which, as you know, is lined with vellum, there is written in the same hand as that which penned the book itself the curious entry: ‘3ELIZ:43.5.213.’ At first I was much puzzled by it, but after a good deal of reflection I disposed of the threes at each end among those in the body of the book, and read the entry as a date, namely, the twenty-first day of May in the forty-third year of the reign of Elizabeth, or 1591. This aroused my curiosity, and I lost no time in searching at the Record Office for any documents bearing that date. I spent all yesterday there, and at last my search among the indices was rewarded, for I found an entry which indicated something of interest preserved among the Oblata Rolls. I have seen it, and I want you to come to Chancery Lane and assist me in copying it.”
“When? Now?” I cried in excitement.
“Certainly. I have a cab at the door.”
On our drive Staffurth told me little regarding his find, declaring that I should be allowed to inspect it in due course. You may, however, imagine my own state of mind, for I saw how highly excited the old expert was himself, although he strove not to show it.
Arrived at the new Record Office, Staffurth, who was well known there as a searcher, filled up a request form for No. 26,832 of the Oblata Rolls, and in due course an attendant handed to us at the desk, whereat we had taken seats, a small roll of rather coarse parchment, to which were attached three old red seals and a tablet bearing the catalogue number.
Staffurth unrolled it before me and exhibited the three signatures at foot. They were those of “Clement Wollerton,” “John Ffreeman,” and “Bartholomew da Schorno.”