followed by fresh strawberries and cream. Will and Jon cleared the table whilst the ladies sipped glasses of
elderflower wine, which Amy and Alex's mother had sent along. Little Willum dozed off on the sofa, and Ben poured
lemonade for his two young friends. Jon and the dairyman came in from the kitchen, carrying a glass of beer apiece.
After supper Will produced the chalice from behind his back and set it on the mantelpiece. It was filled with
water and had six white roses in it. Mrs. Winn stared at it, enraptured. "Oh, it's so beautiful! Does it belong in your
family, Sarah?"
Will's ma smiled. "No, it belongs in your family, Winnie!"
While Eileen and Will's ma excitedly related the tale of the discovery, Will showed something to the others.
"Miz Winn ain't the only one gettin' a surprise this evenin'. Look what I found when I was emptyin' the wax
from that pot." He placed a flat piece of wood, about eight inches long by an inch wide, upon the table. It was dark,
greasy, and well preserved from the tallow that had encased it.
Ben turned it over, running his thumbnail over the wood. "There's some carving on it—hard to make out,
though."
Alex produced a pencil stub from his pocket. "Let me try."
They held the lamp close as he ran the pencil lead inside the carved grooves.
His sister studied the results. "It looks like the letter U carved alongside itself eight times, with some sort of
stickleg creature at each end, very roughly drawn. Looks like two dogs to me."
The big Lab sniffed disdainfully and pawed at Ben's hand. "Dogs: indeed? If I were a dog and I looked like that,
I'd drown myself. I'd say it looks more like two horses. You tell her, pal, go on, defend your friend the dog!" Ben did,
and Will and Jon were inclined to agree with him.
At the other end of the table Mrs. Winn held the chalice lovingly. "Thank you, all of you, this is the most
marvelous discovery. I don't want to sound ungrateful, but I wish that it had been something less beautiful and more
practical, like the deeds to Chapelvale. That's what I really need."
The farmer's normally cheerful face darkened. "Aye, that rogue Smithers ain't even made us an offer for
Hillside Farm yet. I wouldn't let him over the pasture fence. Still, if they started a quarry an' a factory, we'd be forced
to leave. A man can't dairy farm with all kinds o' blastin' an' machinery chug-gin' night 'n' day. My business'd be
ruined. It ain't right, I tell you, it just ain't right!"
Eileen lifted the sleeping baby from the couch. "We know that, m'dear, but they got the law an' big-business
friends in London, aye, an' plenty o' money, too. All we got is good intentions an' time that's gettin' shorter by the
day."
The blue-eyed boy interrupted. "But we've got the golden chalice and this carved stick, which has got to be
some kind of clue. We can't give up. Who knows, the next thing we turn up may be the deeds. With the value of that
chalice and the deeds to the land, we'd soon have the upper hand!"
Jon stared hard at the stick, scratching his beard. "But where do we look? There may be a clue to the carvings
on this stick, but there's no words, no rhyme, no riddle. Maybe the carvings are describing someplace, eight letter Us
and what we think is a horse ... where's that?"
Will's ma spoke up. "Would a map of the area help ye?" Ben felt a tremor of anticipation. "Have you got one?"
Without a word, Sarah Drummond went off to her bedroom. She returned with a framed picture. It was a child's
picture of St. Peter's church on the hilltop, drawn in lead pencil and colored neatly in with colored wax crayons.
Will flushed to the roots of his hair. "Oh, Ma, you ain't goin' to show 'em that ole thing, I was but ten years old
when I drew that in school."
She shook her head, reading out the writing across the top. "Master William Drummond. Aged nine years. Class
3a."
Ben studied it. "Pretty good for a nine-year-old, Will."
Will's ma slit the pasted backing strip with her fingernail.
"Aye, Will drew it for me, I've always liked it. But that's not what I want to show you. Take a look at this."
From behind her son's childhood artwork, Sarah slid out a paper, yellowed with age.
" 'Tis an ancient map of Chapelvale village an' its surroundings!" She unfolded two creases where the map had
been folded under, one toward the top and the other toward the bottom of the map, commenting, "I can remember
lookin' at this when I was a little girl, don't know who put it there, or where it came from, but as you see, the map is
bigger'n the frame. Whoever put it there had to fold the paper to make it fit. It's a very old map of hereabouts, but
except for the railway station an' one or two other bits, Chapelvale ain't changed much, has it. Now then, missy, can
you read the writin' on the parts that were folded under? My eyes ain't up to it."
Amy held the map up to the lamplight and read haltingly. " 'E.D.W Anno Domini... 1661'! That's what it says
along the top. The bottom bit has two lines of writing:
"Lord, if it be thy will and pleasure,
Keep safe for the house of De Winn thy treasure."
The old ship's carpenter's voice shook with excitement. "Ben lad, those are the very words written on the two
bits o' paper I glued together. Here, look, I've got it with me!" He took the repaired paper from his back pocket and
read out the lines triumphantly:
"Lord, if it be thy will and pleasure,
Keep safe for the house of De Winn thy treasure."
"Word for word, the same! Well, sink me!"
Ben found himself laughing at his friend's delight. "Don't sink just yet, mate. Let's take a look at them
together—the writing seems the same. E.D.W. Ah, Edmund De Winn!"
Alex made a very sensible suggestion. "Your thin paper is almost like tracing paper, Jon. Why don't you lay it
on top of the map and see if the writing matches up?"
Jon passed the thin paper to Amy. "My hand's beginning to shake with excitement, you do it."
Brushing her dark hair aside, the girl placed the map flat on the table. With careful precision, she laid the thin
paper on top, nudging it gently until the two lines of writing were exactly on top of each other.
"It matches almost perfectly, every dot and loop of Edmund De Winn's writing. Top and bottom, line for line!"
Alex placed his thumbs at the far side of both papers. "I'll hold them steady, anybody got a pencil?"
Being a carpenter, Jon invariably had a well-sharpened pencil stub behind his ear, which he produced. He
winked at the boy. "Aha! I see your plan, shipmate. You want me to mark the map through the four holes in the tissue
paper. Hold her steady, now."
As the old seaman painstakingly marked the map through the four holes in the thin paper, Ben caught a thought
from the Labrador.
"Look at Winnie. There's a picture of hope, you can see she really believes things are starting to happen."
Ben returned the thought. "Aye, and it's not just her. Look at Will and Ma. Look at us all. I'm glad the angel sent
us here, pal. Smithers and his London gang don't know it yet, but I think they'll find these folk aren't too easy to ride
roughshod over anymore."
Will removed the thin paper from its position. They gathered around the table to view the pencil-dotted map as
he tapped a finger on the first mark he recognized. "Look 'ere, this is our farm, an' the well, too! Haha, we've already
solved one bit o' the puzzle, right, friends? Which is the next 'un? Come on, youn
g feller. I'm beginnin' to like this!"
His ma clapped her hands together and rubbed them gleefully. "Me, too. Never thought I'd be part of a treasure
hunt!"
Alex tapped the flat stick against his hand, staring at the map. "Hmm, we've solved the first saint's problem:
that's Luke. So let's write Luke over the dot where this farmhouse is."
Jon nodded in admiration. "Well said, lad! So that leaves
Matthew, Mark, an' John. I think they'll be in a clockwise position, stands to reason, don't it?"
The astute old lady's eyes twinkled as she took the pencil, licking the point briefly. " 'Matthew, Mark, Luke, and
John, Bless the Bed that I Lie On.' Clockwise, eh, then this is the way it should go." She wrote lightly above the other
three dots thus:
Luke
•
Mark John
• •
Matthew
•
They went back to pondering the problem. Will stood silent, his arms folded, when suddenly his voice cut the
silence.
"St. John, that's the next one we should look at if we're goin' clockwise. Though I'm just thinkin', that next mark
is right where the railway station stands now."
His wife peered closely at the mark belonging to St. John. "When I went t' school ole Mr. Braithwaite told us
that's about where the blacksmith once 'ad his stables."
Now the meaning of the marks upon the stick dawned upon Ben. He took the flat piece of wood from Alex. "Of
course! Two horses and lots of letter Us, I'll bet the Us are meant to be horseshoes!"
Mrs. Winn squeezed Ben's hand. "Marvelous, I wish I was as quick-thinking as you! But I've just had an awful
thought. Supposing they built the railway station right over the stables, what then?"
Eileen frowned. "Let's hope not. Don't you go frettin' just yet, m'dear. We'll go an' see Mr. Braithwaite, he'll
know if anybody docs!"
The old lady sighed. "You're right, we'll just have to wait and see. Thank you for the lovely dinner, Eileen, you,
too, Sarah. Oh dear, it's getting late, we'd best get back home."
Mrs. Winn had the chalice wrapped in a clean teacloth that she intended leaving with Mr. Mackay the lawyer,
for safekeeping. They all climbed into the cart, and Will delivered them to their homes.
Ben had already laid his plans for the midnight encounter with Wilf Smithers. As Will was helping Mrs. Winn
from the gig, Ben winked at Amy, Alex, and Jon, his voice dropping to a whisper. "See you later."
It was still only ten o'clock when Ben assisted Mrs. Winn to her room. She thanked him. "What an exciting
evening, Ben, let's hope there's good news for us in the morning. Don't stay up too late, now, and lock up before you
go to bed. Oh dear, I'm exhausted!"
29.
BEN SAT AT THE KITCHEN TABLE, THE BIG, black Lab at his feet, each immersed in his own thoughts.
Horatio sat with his tail curled about both front paws, watching a moth beating against the outer window-pane, trying
vainly to reach the lamplight. It had been ten minutes since the hall clock chimed half past eleven.
Ben blinked and rubbed his eyes. "Come on, Ned, time to go." He took the kitchen key from its hook and
quietly opened the door to the rear of the house.
Horatio followed them out, purring. The big Labrador passed the cat a thought. "You can't come with us."
The cat replied mentally. "Prrrr, 'Ratio go catch butterflies."
The big moth that had been beating itself against the window flew into the kitchen and began circling the lamp.
The dog turned the cat around with a sweep of his paw, commenting, "Look, there's a moth, they're fatter than
butterflies, go and catch him. Bet you can't!"
Horatio curled his tail disdainfully. "Miaow, 'Ratio catch butterflies, prrrr, mop be easier to catch, you watch!"
He ran back indoors. Leaping on the table, he began dabbing his paw at the moth. "Rrrowwrrr, soon catch mopfly!"
The.big dog nodded. "That's the stuff, Horatio. You catch the mopfly and have a midnight snack. See you later.
Hmph, mopfly indeed—you'll soon have me as dotty as y'self!"
Ben locked the kitchen door, staring curiously at his friend. "What was all that about?"
Ned passed him a despairing glance. "Mopflies. You wouldn't understand. Come on, our friends'll be waiting."
Amid the dark night shadows Wilf Smithers and his gang stood in the alley alongside Evans Tea Shoppe.
Regina took out a fob watch, which she had received for her birthday, and consulted it. "Nearly ten minutes to
midnight, he should be here by now."
A thin, nervous-looking boy named Archie gnawed his thumbnail. "I don't think he's comin', hadn't we better go
home? My mum and dad don't know I sneaked out."
Wilf grabbed him by the earlobe, tugging him up onto his toes. "Scared stiff, that's your trouble, Archie. Well
go on, then, run back home quick. But you won't be in this gang anymore if you do!"
Tommo pulled a face at Archie. "Beat it back home. Who needs you, you skinny little worm!"
Wilf let go of Archie and turned his contempt on the fat boy. "Who asked you, puddenface, you look twice as
scared as he does!"
"Oh, I don't know, he probably looks about one and a half times as scared as poor Archie, right, Tommo?"
Wilf almost jumped with fright as the blue-eyed boy emerged from the shadows. He recovered himself quickly
and snarled. "How did you get here?"
As the black Lab and Amy and Alex materialized out of the darkness, Ben smiled. "Same way you did, of
course. How's the hand, still sore?"
Wilf smiled thinly back at his foe. "Forget my hand. You're here because you cheated me at that fight. But you
won't dodge your way out of this one. I'll bet that you're a sniveling coward, and too scared to take a dare, aren't you?"
Ben shrugged. "Why should I take a dare?" Regina called out scornfully from behind Wilf. " 'Cos if you don't, then
we'll all know you're a coward!" Alex answered her, "Ben's no coward!" She sneered at him. "Oh shuttup,
Alexandra!" Amy blazed at the bigger girl. "And you shuttup, you great bully!"
Ben placed himself between them. "No need for all this name-calling. I'll take your dare, Wilf, providing it's not
something stupid, like jumping off the church roof and landing on my head, or punching the school wall with my bare
hand."
There were one or two sniggers from the gang. Wilf silenced them with a glare before turning back. "It's
nothing like that. There's nothing daft about this dare, so, will you take it?" Ben flicked the hair from his eyes. "Go on
then, what is it?" Wilf took the fob watch from Regina and glanced at it. "Two minutes to go. Right on the stroke of
midnight, you will go into the almshouse where the Mad Professor lives. Alone. We'll wait outside to see that you do.
Well, will you do it?" The boy appeared to hesitate and backed off slightly. Wilf grinned wolfishly. "Hah, you're
scared!" Ben sounded unsure of himself. "No I'm not, I, er, I just have my reasons for not wanting to go into the
almshouse."
Regina pointed her finger at him. "Coward! Coward!"
Alex placed himself in front of his friend. He looked pale and his knees were shaking as he spoke in a voice
barely above a whisper. "Leave him alone, Ben's already proved he's no coward. I'll take the dare from him, I'll do it."
Wilf stared at him scornfully. "You? Hahaha, I can hear your knees knocking like clappers. D'you mean to tell
me you're taking a dare to go into that place?"
The young boy clenched his fists until the knuckles showed white. H
e swallowed hard and nodded his head.
Wilf curled both hands, like claws, advancing on Alex, eyes wide, his voice in a mock horrified tone. "Who
knows what you'll find inside that old almshouse, little boy. Spiders, cobwebs, rats, ancient ghosts ... and the
madman!"
A few of the gang giggled and shuddered with nervous anticipation. Somebody even gave a hollow ghostly
whoop. Wilf silenced them with a glare before turning back to his victim.
"Ah yes, the great, bearded madman. He's got a big shotgun, you know. But I don't suppose he'd use it on a little
shrimp like you. Oh no, I'll bet he's got butcher's knives and hooks and a hangman's noose, all ready for young boys
called Alex who come knocking on his door at midnight, when it's pitch dark!"
Ben grasped his friend's arm, there was a note of frightened pleading in his voice. "Don't do it, Alex, he dared
me... I'll go!"
But Wilf had different ideas, he pulled the towheaded lad away from his young companion. The bully was
enjoying tormenting Alex. "Oh, no you don't, you've already proved yourself a coward by refusing the dare. I'm going
to let him go and get murdered. He wants to take on your dare, don't you, Alexandra?"
Amy was about to stand up in her brother's defense, when Ben warned her off with a glance and Alex replied.
"I'll go. But if I do, are you willing to take on a dare in return? That's fair enough, isn't it? Dare for dare?"
A ready murmur of agreement came from the gang: It sounded good enough to them. Wilf was their leader, he
was a big, strong lad, nobody had ever questioned his courage.
Wilf realized he would lose face if he refused in front of his own gang. Fancy backing down from a mousy little
runt like Alex Somers! Wilf sneered. "All right then, but like your pal said, provided it's nothing stupid, I'll take your
dare. What is it, jellylegs?"
There was laughter and approval from the Grange Gang. Wilf swelled his chest and grinned to show them he
was fearless.
The younger boy drew in a deep breath, as if gathering his courage. "The dare is this. If I'm in the almshouse
more than two minutes, you've got to come in and get me out."
Regina spoke out scornfully. "Huh, anything you can do, Wilf can do as well. If you're not scared, he certainly
isn't!"
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