Mr. Rowntree and his crew worked on the pavement again the following day. But though they uncovered even more of it, finding a path to the hoped-for chambers beneath proved more difficult than expected. Mr. Rowntree had predicted that they would come to an opening, a stair or a trapdoor; and they finally did, at the end of the day after much digging. However, the aperture was completely choked with rock and soil, close-packed and hard. Gerald admitted himself daunted at the idea of digging through it, as did Jonathan Erland. And since they were doing most of the work, and Templeton and Carstairs had no desire to change this situation, their wishes prevailed. It was decided that they would try some other means of getting through the floor.
By the following morning, Mr. Rowntree had concluded that their best hope was to pry up one of the paving stones, making their own new entrance. But though they tried all day, they had no success in this. The stones were larger than they appeared, extending down into the earth several feet. And they eventually realized that they would have to find help if they were ever to pry one up. All the mortar would have to be chipped out and some system of ropes and pulleys put in place. They abandoned the task in late afternoon, promising each other to return the following day.
Joanna was tired when she reached home. Though she had done little, she found that standing about watching others work and listening to them argue endlessly about methods was quite as tiring as anything she had ever done. When she reached her bedroom just before tea time, she vowed that she would stay home tomorrow, as Sir Rollin had done today, and think of something besides stone slabs and crypts.
Dinner passed uneventfully: Frederick was unusually silent, but Joanna attributed this to fatigue. He had been out all day, no doubt vigorously searching for the elusive treasure.
After dinner, Joanna sat with her mother in the drawing room, doing some long-neglected sewing and chatting desultorily. But by nine, she was so tired that she excused herself and went up to her room. She read for a while, then tumbled into bed. Paradoxically, once there, she could not sleep. She turned this way and that, finding her pillow hot and uncomfortable. Various recent happenings went through her mind again. Unwillingly, she thought about Sir Rollin Denby. Clearly, if he had been flirting with her, he was done. Once again, Joanna felt angry. But now this emotion was directed exclusively at herself. How could she have been so foolish as to think he loved her? She had been warned often enough about the man. She thought again of the way he had behaved at his sister’s party and blushed; that he could think she welcomed his kisses! And the way he had humiliated poor Selina was unforgivable.
Inevitably, this thought brought Jonathan Erland to mind. His response to that accident had been so different, so much kinder. Joanna reconsidered the things Constance had said about the two men. Constance was much more sensible than she, it appeared. She had seen from the beginning what sorts of people they were.
Joanna sighed. Would she never be able to see things correctly? As she grew older, she felt less sure of herself, rather than more so. And at that moment, it seemed to her that she would never be the poised, assured figure she had so longed to be.
She sighed again. Her eyes were getting heavy at last. She snuffed out her reading candle and snuggled down into the covers but just as she was dropping off, someone softly opened her bedroom door.
Joanna started up immediately, crying, “Who is it? Who is there?”
“Shhh,” hissed Frederick indignantly. “You’ll wake everyone with your screeching. It’s me.”
“Frederick? What are you doing here?” Joanna reached for the candle on the table beside her bed, but before she could light it, Frederick uncovered a dark lantern he had been holding. The dim light showed that he was fully dressed, but very disheveled. There were smudges of dirt on his clothes and face.
“Don’t talk so loud,” he said.
“Where have you been? Why are you dressed? It’s the middle of the night.”
“Quiet, I tell you!”
Lowering her voice, Joanna repeated her first question.
“I’ve been out, and it’s no use scolding, because there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“I can tell Mother. How did you get out; the doors are all bolted.”
Frederick grinned. “I have my own ways of getting in and out. And it’s well I do, for tonight I really saw something. Something Father will be glad to hear of.”
Curious, Joanna asked, “What?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Frederick, did you wake me just to be impossible? Because if you did, I shall go back to sleep at once.”
Brother and sister glared at one another for a long moment.
“Oh, very well,” said Frederick. “I meant all along to tell you. Someone tried to steal the treasure tonight!”
Joanna sat bolt upright. “What?”
The boy looked smug. “I thought that would shake you.”
“Tell me what happened at once!”
Frederick grinned. “Not too busy this time? Maybe you want to get your sleep? I shouldn’t bother you.”
Joanna picked up a pillow and gestured threateningly. “Frederick.”
He laughed. “Very well.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice even further. “Someone tried to break through that place where you have all been digging. I saw him!”
“In the ruins?”
“Yes.” He grimaced. “And I thought all along the treasure was in the house. After I found that place…” He stopped abruptly and frowned.
“Let me understand you: someone tried to break through the pavement of the church where we have been digging?”
“I just told you—yes! Someone thinks the treasure is there.”
Joanna frowned. “But how could it be? No one had dug there before us.”
Frederick started. “That’s true. How odd.”
“Anyway, how do you know about this? Why were you outside?”
Smiling complacently, the boy went over to Joanna’s armchair and sat down. He looked ready to tell a good story. “I couldn’t sleep tonight,” he began. “Don’t know why. So I decided to get up and go over to the Abbey. I do sometimes, to look around when no one else is about.”
Joanna started to speak, then thought better of it. Her brother grinned.
“Anyway, when I reached the edge of the ruins, I heard noises. It sounded like rock cracking, and pounding as well. You can imagine that I hurried toward the sound. But Valiant was quicker.”
“Valiant? Oh, Mr. Carstairs’ dog.”
“His mastiff. I heard him start to bark, then I heard a lot of noise, clattering and that sort of things coming from the same direction as before. I legged it, but by the time I reached the place, Valiant was chasing the man off. I saw him running across the lawn; Valiant had his coat tail.” The boy laughed. “What a good dog he is.”
“But the man got away?”
Frederick’s face fell a little. “Yes, he did. He hit at Valiant with something. A riding crop I think. And he got his horse which was hidden outside the wall. When I saw him ride off, I called Valiant back. I didn’t want him to be lost chasing a horse. That man would have killed him if he got him well away.”
“Oh, Frederick.”
“He would have. I have not told you what else I found.”
“What then?”
“Well, I took Valiant back to his kennel in the stables, to clean off his scratch—that blackguard really slashed him. There at the stable door, I found poisoned meat. It was left for him to eat.”
“No! How could you tell?”
The boy looked disgusted. “I looked, of course. I know where Valiant is fed and when. I checked in his bowl; he’d had his supper. This was something quite different, and it was filled with rat poison in the middle. I cut it open to see.” He looked at her triumphantly.
“But that’s horrible!”
Frederick nodded gleefully.
“Who would do such a thing?”
His glee vanished in an awful scowl. “That’s what I want to know. And I mean to find out, too. No thief is going to get the treasure away from me. He made great gouges in the stone. I went to see. He must have had some tool with him.”
“Which way did he ride off?”
“I couldn’t see.” Frederick sighed. “He was beyond the wall, and I was worried about Valiant.”
Joanna was considering. “I wonder if Mr. Erland heard?”
“He should have. There was enough noise. But he didn’t come out to see. Perhaps it was too far from his room.”
“You must tell him tomorrow, as soon as possible.”
“I mean to. And Papa, even though I shall get a thundering scold for being out, I suppose.”
“And what about that repaired place you told me you found? Have you spoken to Mr. Erland about that?”
Her brother’s face assumed a mulish expression. “I told you, I was mistaken.”
Joanna frowned at him. “Are you sure?”
Frederick looked down. “That’s what I said, isn’t it? And besides, what can it matter if the treasure is in the ruins. That place—the one I thought I found—was in the cellar. It couldn’t…” An idea seemed to come to him then, and he stopped.
“Couldn’t what? Frederick, I believe you have found something!”
“Quiet,” snapped her brother, “I’m thinking.”
“I will not be quiet! You must tell Mr. Erland about anything you have found.” She glared at him. “You are not still thinking you can keep the treasure for yourself, are you Frederick? Because you cannot.”
“I know that,” he answered contemptuously. “I never did think so. Or, at least, only for a moment. I know someone would find me out and make me give it back. But that’s not to say that Erland may not reward me if I do find it myself.”
“But Frederick, if there is a thief about…”
“Then I shall stop him,” interrupted the boy fiercely. He grinned. “And I may have thought of a way to do it, too.”
“What do you mean?” began Joanna, but her brother was already out of the room.
When Frederick’s news was told the following day, the reactions were not quite what he would have wished. His father hardly seemed to hear him, so engrossed was he with one of his charts. Jonathan Erland seemed to think it all a very good joke that someone would want to break into his ruins.
He discounted the poisoned meat story as imaginings, and Frederick was left to bitterly regret that he had pitched the meat into the miller’s pond in disgust.
Mrs. Rowntree, naturally, was more concerned about Frederick’s nocturnal wanderings than about any elusive thief. She scolded him, but both of them knew that this scolding would have little effect when he wished to get out again. And his mother could not consider the merits of his story properly when she was so worried about him.
Frederick, coming upon his sister in the garden late that afternoon, threw himself onto the grass beside her chair and poured out his grievances. “People are so stupid,” he blurted. “No one pays me any heed, and I daresay that fellow will be back and go off with the treasure under our very noses.” He glowered darkly. “At least then they will see that I was right.”
“You don’t think,” suggested Joanna, “that Mr. Erland might have been right? Perhaps it was just a curious trespasser, someone who heard about our digging and wanted to see.”
Frederick’s disgust was transferred to Joanna. “Why didn’t he come in the daytime then, when you were all there? And why try to poison Valiant? Or to pound a hole in the stone? A fellow would have to be very curious to do that.” He glared. “And if you start telling me that I imagined that poison, Joanna, I shall pull your hair. I did no such thing. And besides, anyone can see the marks in the rock. They just refuse to admit they are new. But I know! Everyone thinks that because I’m young I must be stupid as well. But I’m not! I know what I saw.” He sighed hugely. “I shall never get over having thrown that meat away.”
“But if Mr. Erland thinks you are mistaken, perhaps…”
“Now that was a queer thing,” Frederick put in. “I am not at all certain that he does.”
“Does what?”
“Thinks I’m mistaken, of course. He acted strangely.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, when I first told him my story, in his study, he seemed really interested. He asked me all sorts of questions. But then when we went out to see the place in the ruins, and the others came over, he laughed and made a joke of it. It really made me angry.” He frowned.
Joanna considered. “Perhaps he does not want everyone talking of it,” she suggested.
Frederick looked up, startled. “Huh…I didn’t think of that.” His mouth dropped open. “Or maybe he doesn’t want the thief to know that he believes me.”
“Well, I don’t see…”
But her brother jumped up. “I meant to keep a watch on the Abbey and lay this villain by the heels. But perhaps I needn’t do it alone after all.” He started to turn away.
“Frederick, you know what Mother said. You aren’t to go out alone at night.”
“Pooh! I shall be careful. And besides, Valiant will be there to help me. Mother doesn’t understand how important this is.”
“Yes, but…”
With a disgusted noise, Frederick added, “Oh, you women are all alike,” and he walked off toward the back gate.
When he was gone, Joanna sat still, frowning. Frederick worried her. Though he was often a nuisance and plagued her unmercifully, he was her little brother, and she certainly did not wish to see him hurt. If there was indeed a thief at large, Frederick should be kept out of his way. But how to do this, she had no idea. She could not follow him out of windows and over walls. Her frown deepened as she considered this problem. She would have to ask for help.