a
sound ... carrion crow.... Visions and images of death floated about in his mind. Villainous faces marked by evil
appeared unbidden, the sounds of seawaves roared in his ears. Long, long ago, Vanderdecken, Petros, Scraggs, Jamil,
he saw them all, leering, cursing. But others were there, mingled with the crew of the
shadowed, their features showing the wickedness of evil men the world over. Closing his eyes tight, Ben fell back
upon the grass, shuddering, feeling the earth move like a rolling ship's deck.
Warm breath and a damp tongue against his cheek brought Ben back from his dreadful trance. 'Now then, pal,
are you all right?'
Something smooth and silky brushed his hand, and Ben sat up, glad to be back in the normal world. Ned was
sitting next to him, he caught sight of Horatio vanishing into the house. Immediately Ben felt better. He hugged the
big dog's neck.
'I'm all right now you're here, you old rogue. It just happened, I was reading the poem from the base of the
cross, when this awful feeling came over me.'
The Labrador nodded.
Ben ran his fingers through his tousled blond hair.
'Yes, it was Vanderdecken and the others, but there were strange faces there, too, frightening ones I'd never
seen before. Good job you came and snapped me out of it. I think it was due to reading that poem.'
A bee was taking an interest in Ned's nose, and he swatted at it with his paw. 'Then don't read the poem, leave it
to the others to solve. They're a pretty brainy lot, 'specially old Mackay and Braithwaite, real knowledge pots those
two. Besides, we'll have other things to worry about tomorrow. Bet you'd forgotten about those rough types due to
come up from London?'
Ben smote his forehead with an open palm. 'Of course, the four men Miss Wot'sername said were arriving
Thursday! I've been so busy contending with riddles and dealing with
Wilf and, his gang, they completely slipped my mind. Have you found out any more about the situation, Ned?'
The black Labrador winked. 'Oh yes indeed, I spent a very profitable hour at the back of Smithers's lawn. You
should have heard the racket. Mr. Smithers must have lungs of leather. By the way, isn't it time for tea? Come on, I'll
tell you later, we've got the rest of the day. At least you won't have to worry about young Wilf anymore.'
Ben followed Ned inside. 'What d'you mean about Wilf ?'
Ned helped himself to a drink of water from his dish.
'Tell you later, come on, get the kettle on, slice the seed cake. Where's my old lady?'
Ben spread a clean cloth over the table. 'Asleep in the sitting room, we'll surprise her with a nice afternoon tea
when she wakes. Ned, will you tell Horatio to keep from under my feet?'
Ned shook his head. 'No use telling him anything, unless it's about sardines!'
34.
BY NINE O'CLOCK ON THURSDAY MORNING the sun was almost as hot as noon—it was a record
summer. Jonathan Preston sat at his workbench, a pencil behind one ear. He stared at the poem and blinked. Stroking
his beard, the old ship's carpenter took a sip of tea and bit into a bacon sandwich. Hearing the noise of young people
coming in through the back window, he spoke without turning around. 'Aye aye, mates, sun's been up since six, so
have I. What time d'you call this to be rollin' up on deck?'
Tearing the crust and bacon rind from his sandwich, he fed it to the black dog who'd gotten to the table before
his companions. 'Like my breakfast better'n your own, eh, feller!' Amy perched on the edge of the workbench, where
she saw the poem. 'Have you solved it yet, Jon? St. Matthew's message?'
The old seaman smiled slyly. 'No, not yet. Have any of you?'
Both boys shook their heads. Jon watched Amy drumming her heels against the bench. 'Now then, pretty maid,
d'you know something you ain't telling us? How did you find out it was St. Matthew's message?'
Her brother sounded rather injured. 'Yes, how did you? You never said anything to me!'
Ben gave her a mock severe look. 'Nor me!'
The girl plucked the pencil from behind Jon's ear and wagged it at them. 'That's because you were asleep, my
dear brother, and how could I tell you, Ben, you weren't even there. So I thought I'd keep it a secret 'til we were all
together. Now watch this.'
She drew two lines between the words of the first line of the writing on Jon's copy:
'Twould see/m at the w/icked's fate.
'Now, spell out the letters between the two lines, Jon.'
He did as she told him. 'M-a-t-t-h-e-w. Matthew! Very clever, Amy, I been staring at this for hours, but I never
saw that. How did you come to notice it?'
Amy shrugged airily. 'It's called an inclusion—we did it as a word game in school last term. You look for
words among words.'
The blue-eyed boy nodded admiringly. 'Well done, pal!'
Amy jumped down from the bench. 'Not so well, Ben, I couldn't fathom out any more of the puzzle. Could
you?'
'No, I had other things to think about, which I'll tell you later. I bet Mr. Braithwaite's managed to solve it.'
Jon tossed the last of his sandwich to Ned. 'I went over there earlier, but he didn't seem to be in the library.
Maybe he's arrived by now—let's go and see.'
Exiting the almshouse by the front door, they saw the gig with Delia standing patiently in the shafts outside Mr.
Mackay's office. Amy ran across to stroke the mare.
'What's Will doing in Mr. Mackay's office this early?'
The door opened partially, and Eileen popped her head around it. 'I was about to go'n see if you were up an'
