Castaways of the Flying Dutchman

hard digging a sandstone building block was uncovered. Between them the two men lifted it out. Alex cleaned it up

with his hand until the letters E.D.W. appeared visible. Ben ran his finger over the letters. 'Same as on your map, Will!

And the same as that name in the back of Winnie's family Bible! Edmond De Winn, the one who had one son and

seven daughters!'

Further speculation from Ben was cut short. The old seaman bent and began tugging with both hands at an

object embedded beneath where the stone had lain. 'Here's something, mates, an old chest!'

Will helped him pull the chest out. It was iron-bound, rotting, and fused hard to the soil around it. Once they got

it out, a few smart jabs with Jon's spade soon caved it in, and it broke open. Braithwaite fell on his knees and lifted out

the contents. Wrapped in sheepskin and heavily coated with solidified tallow, it was still fairly obvious from its shape

that the thing was a cross.

High-noon sunlight streamed into the farmhouse kitchen. Will's ma shaded her eyes against it, peering out

across the yard. 'Here they come, Winnie. Put the kettle on to boil again, Eileen.'

Little Willum toddled out, holding Winnie's hand. 'Dad-deeeee!'

The dairyman swung his son up onto his broad shoulders. 'I hope you ain't ate all our lunch, Willum, I'm

starvin'!'

But food was out of the question once Eileen spotted the bundle.

'You found it, good men!'

Amy took little Willum from his father. 'What about me?'

Will's ma wiped flour from both hands upon her apron. 'An' you, too, m'dear, good work. Now, let's see what

you got, my meat an' potato pie'll be ready directly.'

Ben placed the bundle on the table. 'D'you think we'll need more hot water to melt the tallow, Jon?'

Taking out his ever-useful clasp knife, the ex-ship's carpenter set to work, slicing through the greased string

around the tallowed hide. 'With any luck it'll just peel off.'

Mr. Braithwaite was permitted to undo it. Finding an edge of the skin, he drew it back, exposing gold. In less

than a minute he had stripped sheepskin and tallow away completely.

It was a crucifix, complete with a tiny monstrance chamber for displaying the host. The top and ends of both

arms had pigeon-egg rubies set into the metal, identical to the ones on the chalice. At its base a marvelously graven

gold bird supported the cross on semi-spread wings, its talons gripping a half-orb of solid gold. The old scholar's

hands trembled as he held the object. He gazed at the embossed figure of Christ upon it, surmounted by the letters

INRI. 'Crucifixus anticus! Wrought by the same Byzantine hand that fashioned the chalice. Do you realize, we are the

first ones to behold it since the seventeenth century!'

Jon and Ben were inspecting the tallow-bound sheepskin minutely when Will's ma wrinkled her nose in disdain.

'What're you messin' with that ole sheep 'ide for?'

The strange boy replied without looking up. 'For the next clue, but it doesn't seem to be here. Can you find

anything, Jon?'

The carpenter's strong, tattooed hands delved through the tallowed skin. 'Nothing, lad. The chest was empty

once we took the cross out. I was hopin' we'd find something in this wrapping, but no.'

Alex sat at the table, his chin cupped in both hands, downcast. 'We've missed the next clue somewhere.'

The black Lab's tail swished to and fro as he raised his eyes to Ben. 'Tell them it's carved on the bottom of that

halfdome the bird is standing on, I can see it from here. So could you if you were lying on the floor. Good job old

Braithwaite held the cross up. What would you do without me, eh, mate?'

Ben sat down on the floor by the Labrador and patted him fondly. 'You're the best dog in the world, Ned.

Excuse me while I break the good news to them.'

Ben squinted up at the underside of the crucifix, then raised his voice in excitement. 'Look, there's carving

underneath that dome the bird is standing on. I can see it!'

Mr. Braithwaite harrumphed. 'Bird, young man? That's the eagle of St. John the Evangelist you're talking about.

Let's see!' He turned the cross upside down. With Mr. Mackay leaning over his shoulder, checking, he read aloud.

' 'Twould seem at the wicked's fate

that bell ne'er made a sound,

yet the death knell tolled aloud

for those who danced around.

The carrion crow doth perch above,

light bearers 'neath the ground.'

Mrs. Winn looked around. 'Well, what do you make of that?'

The lawyer meticulously copied the words onto a piece of paper, before taking charge of the cross.

'I'd better get this locked away in my office safe with all dispatch. Will, could you run me down there in your

gig, please?'

'You 'ave some lunch first, sir,' Eileen chimed in. 'Then my Will can drop you all off.'

Over hot meat and potato pie, Mr. Braithwaite made out another copy of the words for his own use. 'Hmm,

very good, very good. Must, er, get back to the, er, library, of course. I'll, ah, er, study this and let you know my

findings, yes, very good!'

Amy made more copies in her fine, neat hand and distributed them to everybody, keeping one for herself and

her brother. After lunch it was decided that they would spend the rest of the day each trying to solve the riddle. They

had the time.

Will delivered Mrs. Winn to her house first. Ben stayed in the gig, alighting in the village square with the others.

Mr. Mackay read the notice tacked to the board on the post not far from his office. He turned to them, his face grave.

'Two days from today the clearances start. That means Smithers and his partners will be here with the