“So, there’s no treasure after all?” Libby said wistfully.
“There’s still the treasure of the Fréhels,” Welly said. “Wherever it may be.”
“Perhaps only in our dreams,” Marie-Laure said. “And it may not be wise to cling to dreams of riches. It is better to remember the Sieur de Fréhel’s own motto: True wealth is found around the family hearth.”
Frowning, Frank said, “I remember Jean-Claude quoted that before. What does it mean?”
Marie-Laure seemed surprised by the question. “Why—that life with our family is what is truly important. The word in French is foyer. It means ‘fireplace,’ but it also means the family home.”
Frank felt a bubble of excitement growing in his mind. “Are you saying that your ancestor, the guy who hid the treasure, made a point of telling his family that they would find wealth around the fireplace? And none of them bothered to search there?”
Frank looked around the circle of stunned faces. “Would a couple of you go get a long ladder?” he asked.
From below, the fireplace in the great hall of the chateau looked big. Up close, it was enormous. When Frank stepped off the ladder, he automatically stooped, but it was needless. The top arch of the masonry was at least a foot taller than he. He moved to one side to let Joe, Marie-Laure, and Jean-Claude join him.
“What did they burn in this thing?” Joe wondered. “Whole tree trunks?”
“In fact, yes,” Marie-Laure told him. “It was all they had for heat.”
Frank scanned the walls of the fireplace. The smoke-darkened stones looked as solid as, well, as rock. He took a hammer from his belt and began tapping on the stones.
Ten minutes later he stopped. “I don’t hear anything that sounds hollow,” he said. “Maybe our theory is wrong.”
The spectators in the room below were beginning to look restless. Too bad, Frank thought. This wasn’t for their amusement.
Jean-Claude was fiddling with the rusty iron hooks that protruded from the fireplace walls. “Hey,” he suddenly said. “This one turns.”
The three others joined him. He was right. With a sound like fingernails on a blackboard, the hook turned a quarter turn counterclockwise. Frank was sure he heard a click at the end.
“Help me,” he said. He wedged his fingertips in a crack between the stones. “Pull!”
Just when Frank was beginning to think they were wasting their energy, the entire side wall of the fireplace started to swing outward.
Those down below shouted with excitement. Frank, Joe, and the two Fréhels held their collective breath.
Jean-Claude had a flashlight. He shone it into the growing gap. “A skull!” he gasped. “It’s looking straight at me!” The flashlight fell from his fingers.
Marie-Laure scooped up the flashlight and aimed it into the dark niche. Frank looked over her shoulder and caught his breath.
Propped against the far wall of the tiny compartment was the form of a man. White bones gleamed amid tatters of ancient cloth. The skeleton leaned sideways onto a wooden chest. One side of the chest had rotted away. A river of sparkling jewels cascaded from the chest to the rough stone floor.
“The Sieur de Fréhel’s treasure,” Marie-Laure whispered. “We’ve found it!”
Frank noticed a gold ring on the floor. He picked it up. A coat of arms was engraved on its face. He could just make out the last word of the motto underneath. It was foyer.
“I think we just found the Sieur de Fréhel, too,” Frank said solemnly.
Jean-Claude met his eyes. “I don’t understand,” he said. “The bandits confessed that they threw his body from the battlements. It is in the official court records. How did it come to be here, in this secret place, next to his treasure?”
Frank looked at the skull. In the wavering light of the flash, it seemed to look back at him.
“I don’t know,” Frank said. “Maybe there are some mysteries that we shouldn’t expect to solve.”
The Castle Conundrum (Hardy Boys) Page 11
