CHAPTER11
Upon his arrival in Brighton,Edward had been delighted to discover that Galleon Chase was, indeed, still standing and relatively well cared for by old Mr. Wooding and his wife. The house was a bit dusty and the majority of the furniture, outside that in the servants’ quarters, was covered with dustsheets to protect it, but that was to be expected, considering that no one in the Calthorpe family had been aware of the property’s existence until a few days ago.
Edward had introduced himself to the elderly couple the moment he arrived, and thanked them for taking such good care of Galleon Chase in his family’s absence. Now, he and Mr. Wooding — who was the grandson of the original Mr. Wooding who was hired as Galleon Chase’s live-in caretaker, Edward had discovered — were searching the house’s rather sprawling cellar for a secret passage or hidden compartment of some sort.
“This is all rather exciting, my Lord,” Mr. Wooding chuckled as they searched along the stone walls, feeling for latches which might reveal a secret room or some such.
Edward joined the old man in a hearty chuckle.
“Yes, it is all rather exciting, I suppose, though I cannot for the life of me believe that my grandfather set up this mad treasure hunt for our family two generations ago, and no one in the family knew that Galleon Chase existed, much less that we owned it, or that there might be treasure hidden here. It’s rather wild, but fun, too, in my opinion.”
“We were delighted to finally meet you, Lord Billington. It has been rather lonely here, what with it being just me and the missus all these years, and us never being able to conceive any children of our own.” Mr. Wooding paused, then, frowning a little. “I suppose it might be a good idea for you to employ someone to be my caretaker’s apprentice while you are here, my Lord. I’m quite old, now, and it would be good to have a replacement for me to train, for when I am no longer able to care for the property.”
Edward regarded the man’s serious expression, and nodded.
“Yes, Mr. Wooding, you are quite right. I shall see to hiring you an apprentice first thing tomorrow. For now, let us discover whether this mad treasure hunt my Grandfather created truly bears any fruit.”
“Of course, my Lord.” Mr. Wooding nodded, continuing his work of running his gnarled, aged fingers over the cellar’s stone walls. “And you’re certain that whatever it is that you’re meant to find is going to be hidden in the cellar?”
“Yes,” Edward nodded, absolutely certain that Susan’s interpretation of the riddle was correct. The elder of his two sisters-in-law was quite clever, and she had a way with words and an attention to detail which astounded him. “The riddle indicated that the inheritance from my grandfather which I am supposed to uncover is hidden in the cellar at Galleon Chase.”
“Very well, then,” Mr. Wooding nodded. “We shall go over every inch of it until we uncover the secret your grandfather intended you to find. However, I must say that I am astounded that such a thing might exist, for my family have never discovered anything hidden in this house, and we’ve been caring for it for generations.”
Edward chuckled, pressing every stone he could reach with dogged determination.
“My grandfather was a very clever, and apparently very mischievous, man. He would have made certain that only the person he intended to gift the treasure to could possibly find it.”
Just as those words left his lips, a stone he was pressing gave beneath Edward’s probing fingers and sank into the wall with a satisfying click. He was so proud that he could have crowed like a rooster as a small section of the stone wall off to his right swung out toward them with the terrible noise of stone grating against stone, revealing a small, previously hidden, alcove in its wake.
Edward gasped.
“Well done, my Lord!”
Mr. Wooding whooped, clapping his hands in unrestrained excitement as the stone door stopped moving and the two of them squinted into the dimness of the alcove in unison.
“I can’t believe it,” Edward whispered, trembling as he stared at a large wooden chest which looked like it belonged on a pirate ship, with its ironclad seams and a heavy lock.
“Neither can I.” Mr. Wooding shook his head.
Edward rushed forward, then, eager to open the chest, but the lid would not budge. A wave of dismay washed over him as he turned to face the caretaker.
“It’s locked.”
“There must be a key somewhere.”
The two men stepped toward the alcove in unison, each groping around the shadowy space in the hope of finding a key, with no luck.
“Well, there’s no key in this alcove.”
Edward sat back on his heels and sighed.
Mr. Wooding stroked his beard.
“If your grandfather hid the treasure intended for you in this house, it only makes sense that he would also hide the key to the chest somewhere in this house. We will just have to look until we find it.”
Edward nodded his agreement.
“And we can use the search as an opportunity to clean this place from top to bottom so that it is ready for you and your family at any time you would like to visit in the future, rather than it having the stale, abandoned air it does now.” Mrs. Wooding’s staunch declaration from behind them made both men jump and clutch their chests. She moved so quietly that neither of them had heard her approach. “For now, however, I have a hot supper and tea prepared for both of you. I hope that you will find it refreshing after spending so long in this chilly cellar.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Wooding.” Edward beamed at the old woman. He liked the Woodings immensely. They were both affable, loyal, and hardworking. “I am looking forward to it.”
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