Walking a little way back into the wilderness of weeds which was once a garden, I looked up to the row of long mullioned windows, and saw in the centre of the dark grey wall a large square sculptured stone bearing the date 1584. Above was a coat-of-arms cut in the crumbling stone, a device that was in an instant familiar to me.
As my eyes fell on it I could not repress a cry of satisfaction, for there was the leopard rampant with the fleur-de-lys, the very same device that was upon the seal of the document with the seven signatures I had found on board the Seahorse!
Thus was it proved most conclusively that it was the actual house mentioned by Bartholomew da Schorno, for it bore his arms, with the date of either its construction or restoration.
I talked with Mrs. Kenway for some little time as an excuse to linger there, and when I left I held out strong hopes to her that I might induce my friend to take the remainder of the lease off her hands.
CHAPTER X
THE GUARDIAN OF THE SECRET
I had some tea at the Plough, with fresh butter and cream which, after those weeks on board the Thrush, were delicious.
Much gratified that I had at last discovered the house of the noble freebooter, I set to work to make inquiries regarding the family of Knutton, the hereditary guardians of the treasure, and of the descendants of Clement Wollerton, who, it appeared, had been Bartholomew’s lieutenant, and whose skeleton I had most probably seen on board the Seahorse.
The innkeeper’s sister was still communicative, so I asked her if she knew any one of either name in the village.
“No, sir, I don’t know any one of such name in Caldecott,” she answered, after reflecting a few moments. “There’s old Ben Knutton, who lives in Rockingham.”
“What kind of a man is he?”