His argument was quite logical. There was no doubt that the Italian had at first intended to make a permanent record of the secret, but had afterwards thought better of it. He was evidently no fool, as shown by the testamentary disposition of the Spanish loot.

I took up the parchment, with its dangling seal, and noticed a dark smear across it. The old expert told me that the stain was a smear of blood.

“Then the secret is in the hands of some one named Knutton, and the right owner of two-thirds of the concealed property is a Wollerton?”

“Exactly.”

“Is there any accurate description of the treasure?”

“Yes. It is contained in an appendix in Bartholomew’s handwriting; a careful inventory of the numbers of ‘pieces of eight,’ the ornaments, bars of gold, and other objects of value. One gold cup alone is set down as weighing five hundred ounces.” And he turned over the leaves of vellum and showed me the inventory written there in Italian, a long list occupying nearly eighteen pages.

“The family of Knutton, knowing the secret, may have seized the treasure long ago,” I remarked.

“No, I think not,” was his reply. “In the document it is distinctly stated that a certain deed had been prepared and handed to Richard Knutton in order that it should be given to his eldest son and then descend in the family, and that so guarded was it in wording that it was impossible for any one to learn the place of concealment. Therefore, even if it still exists in the family of Knutton—which is an old Kentish name, by the way, as well as the name Dafte on the document, it would be impossible for the family to make any use of it.”

“Then where is the key plan of the place where the gold is hidden?” I queried.

“Ah, that, my dear sir, is a question I cannot answer,” he replied, shaking his head. “We may, however, hazard a surmise. We have gathered from Bartholomew’s own writings that he lived at a place called Caldecott, which would be about a hundred miles from Great Yarmouth, as the crow flies. Now, my theory is that he most probably transported the treasure by road to his own property as the most secure place for its concealment.”

“Most likely,” I cried, eagerly accepting his idea. “He would be much more prone to place it in his own house or bury it on his own lands than on property belonging to some one else.”

“Exactly. That is the reason why I suggest that you should take a journey to Caldecott and make inquiries if any of the names of the present inhabitants coincide with any of the nine names mentioned in this document.”

“Well,” I said, excitedly, “the affair is growing in interest. A treasure hunt here in England is rather unusual in these days. I hope, Mr. Staffurth, you can find time to accompany me for a couple of days down there.”

“No,” he declared, “go down yourself and see whether you can discover anything regarding persons bearing any of these names.”

Then taking a slip of paper he copied the seven signatures, together with those of Richard Knutton and Bartholomew da Schorno himself, afterwards handing it to me.

“The treasure may, of course, be concealed at Caldecott,” he said. “Indeed, if it is still in existence and intact, it is, I conjecture, hidden there. At any rate, if you make careful investigation, and at the same time avoid attracting undue attention, we may discover something that will give us a clue. The treasure, you must recollect, was placed in hiding about three hundred years ago, and it may have been discovered by some prying person during those three centuries.”

“Well,” I said, “it is quite evident that these documents themselves have fallen into no other hands except our own.”

“True; but seven persons, in addition to this Richard Knutton, knew the place where the loot was hidden. One or other of them may have broken their oath.”

“They might all have been on board the Seahorse when she was lost,” I suggested. “From the rough manner in which the agreement was prepared it seems as though it were written while at sea.”

“Exactly. It was certainly never prepared by a public notary. The men evidently did not think fit to expose their secret to any outsider—they were far too wary for that, knowing that the English Government would in all probability lay claim to it.”

“So they will now, even if we discover it. It will be treasure-trove, and belong to the Crown.”

“Not if it is claimed by its rightful owner—the youngest child of the Wollertons.”

“You don’t believe that this book contains the secret of the hiding-place after all?” I suggested.

“No. Unless my theory is correct that it was transferred from Yarmouth to Caldecott. Why should he have sailed in the teeth of that great gale from the Cornish coast right round to Yarmouth if he had not some o............