y'can't.
You keep yer eyes open fer more signs!'
41.
' 'BE OF GOOD HEART, LIKE A FLAME PURE and true, May the light of St. Mark bring my words unto
you. E.D.W.' ' Mr. Braithwaite and the ladies sat in the gathering gloom, staring at the paper as Amy read the rhyme
for the third time.
Ben entered the room with a lighted taper. 'Jon told me to bring some light to you before you ruin your eyesight
staring at that paper.' Mrs. Winn had neither gas nor the new electric light, favoring the old ways, and kept four
ornate oil lamps in her sitting room. The boy lit them all, one on the mantelpiece, two on the window ledges back and
front. He touched his taper to the wick of the largest lamp with its tall glass chimney and a cream-hued bowl. This
lamp stood on the same table as the paper and gave off a wonderfully soft glow.
Ben chuckled. 'Now you can see to think properly. Miz Winn, I'm going out with the men.'
A worried frown creased the old lady's brow. 'So that's what you were all discussing in the kitchen. I knew as
soon as the sergeant read out the telegram about the four men coming here in the motorcar. Be careful, Ben, and do
exactly as Sergeant Patterson tells you—they could be dangerous.' There was something in the blue eyes of the
strange boy from the sea that told the old lady he had faced danger many times. His hand felt reassuring as he touched
her shoulder lightly. 'We can take care of this, Jon, Will, Mr. Mackay, Alex, the sergeant, and myself. No need for
you to worry.
'Don't open the door to anybody until you've looked through the window to see who's there. I'll leave Ned with
you, just in case.'
Little Willum had played himself out and lay on the sofa, surrounded by cushions. As his mother covered him
with an old plaid traveling rug, Ned came to sit by her.
Eileen patted the big dog's head. 'I'd like to see anyone try t'get past Ned if he didn't want 'em to come in. You
go on, Ben. We're safe enough. Tell my Will not to forget Delia's nosebag an' water bucket.'
Amy touched the boy's hand. 'Be careful, Ben, and good luck!'
He paused at the door, tossing hair back from his keen blue eyes. 'Good luck to you, too, pal. Don't worry, I'll
keep my eye on Alex for you. Stay, boy!'
The black Labrador winked at Ben. 'All right, shipmate, I'm only coming to the door to see you off.'
When they had departed, Mr. Braithwaite suddenly began pacing the room earnestly. Hetty whispered to her
friend, 'Lookit that ole buffer scratchin' away at 'imself, Winnie. The shoulders of that gown look as if 'e's been
sprinklin' 'em with talcum powder!'
Mrs. Winn suppressed a smile. 'Ssshh, he's deep in thought.'
Mr. Braithwaite stopped, holding up a finger, like an orator about to deliver a speech. 'Hmph! It, er, occurs to
me, er, ladies, that we should, er, light a candle in one of those holders, as it were. Yes, very good, to see it the light of
St. Mark brings any, uh, er .. . words to us. Yes?'
Mrs. Winn opened a drawer in the table. 'It can't do any harm, I suppose, I keep some candles in here.'
Mr. Braithwaite took a candle. Using his library key, he scraped the wax at its base until it fit the socket of one
golden candlestick. When he had lit it, the old scholar stood holding the candlestick in one hand and the paper in the
other.
'Right, er, very good so far. Er, er, hmmmmmm.'
He was at a loss what to do next. Will's ma, Sarah, came to his rescue, her voice mounting with excitement.
'Give it to me now, I think I might know the answer!' She practically snatched both candlestick and paper.
The young girl watched curiously as Sarah held the paper over the flame. 'Be careful, you might burn it!'
The old woman moved the paper back and forth across the flame confidently. 'When I was a little girl, me 'n'
my pals used t'send messages to each other, invisible notes. All you need is some white vinegar or lemon juice to
write with, even an egg white'll do. See! I knew I was right, somethin's showin' on the paper. Here!'
Heat from the candle flame had caused markings to appear! They were rather faint, but still discernible.
The excited maidservant hugged the younger girl with a sob in her voice. 'Oh, I 'ope it's somethin' that'll put a
spoke in ole Smithers's wheel. What does it say, Mr. Braithwaite, sir? What does it say?'
Scanning the paper, the old scholar shook his head. 'Er, nothing really, just shapes and, er, dots, so to speak!'
The women gathered around the table to view the odd markings.
Hetty was both angry and disappointed. 'I never learned to read or write, but that ain't no writin'. I can see that.
An' it ain't nothin' a body could read, I'm sure!'
Will's ma glanced at Mr. Braithwaite. 'What d'you think, sir?'
He stared at the markings blankly. 'I, er, tend to agree with Miz, er, hmmm!'
Sarah turned her attention to Amy. 'An' you, girl, what d'you make of it, eh?'
Amy picked up the thin sheet of paper with the lines and dots on it.
'I'd place this paper over that paper and see if it matches up.'
The dairyman's wife clapped her hands. 'So would I, m'dear, try it!'
Amy placed the thin paper over the thicker one, lining up the first dot over the one beneath.
Mrs. Winn kissed Amy. 'Thank you, you clever, pretty girl!'
The black Labrador stood with his paws upon the table, passing a thought to Horatio, who had prowled in. 'We
mustn't forget to thank good old Edmund De Winn, too, eh?'
'Mrrrowr! Sardine, milk, waaiow! 'Ratio hungry!'
Ned stared down his nose at the cat. 'Don't think too hard—you'll damage that amazing brain of yours!'
The librarian-schoolteacher flopped down in an armchair, shaking his head. 'Thin paper over thick paper and
join up the marks. Well, I, er, never. Hmmm, must be getting, er, er, old if I can't see that, er, ah yes ... old.'
42.
WITH THEIR WINDOW BLINDS PULLED down, the village square shops looked as if they were sleeping.
