as soon as i entered mr. staffurth’s little study i saw by his manner that the discovery he had made filled him with interest.

“i have lost no time in going through your documents,” he said calmly, when i was seated by his table. “your story of the finding of the strange ship with the mysterious survivor on board was most interesting, and last night, after you had gone, i turned my attention at once to this book, written by bartholomew da schorno.”

“and you have discovered the secret?” i asked eagerly.

“not entirely,” he responded. “but i have deciphered sufficient to tell us a curious narrative, and to explain to some degree the mystery of the seahorse. are you acquainted with the history of tuscany?”

i replied in the negative. i knew my history of england fairly well, but had never cared for the study of the history of other countries.

“in that case i must first explain to you a few historical facts, in order that you may rightly understand the situation,” he said. “during the late fifteenth century the southern coasts of france, and especially of italy, from the var mouth along to leghorn, were continually raided by the corsairs of barbary, who ravaged the towns and villages and carried thousands of christians into slavery, in algera and tunis. the great breakwater at algiers was constructed by them, and at one of the gates of the city are still preserved the hooks upon which the unfortunate captives were hung to die if they offended their cruel taskmasters. so bold were these pirates and so terrible their depredations, especially in the country between savona and the mouth of the arno, that in the year 1561, by a privilege granted by pius iv., an order of chivalry was founded, called the knights of st. stephen, the members being all of the italian aristocracy, and the object to construct armed ships to sweep these corsairs from the sea.

“the headquarters of the order were in pisa, then an important city, where they constructed a church which still remains to this day hung with banners taken from the corsairs, a magnificent relic of italy’s departed glory. the founder of the order was cosimo di medici, who, according to the volume here”—and he placed his hand upon a folio bound in yellow parchment—“took the habit in the cathedral of pisa on march 15, 1561, of monsignor georgio cornaro, the papal nuncio.

“i fear,” he continued, “that these are rather dry details of a chapter of the forgotten history of italy, but if you will bear with me for a few minutes i think i shall be able to explain the mystery to a certain extent. these extremely rare volumes i have obtained from the library of my friend, sir arthur bond, the great italian historian, in order that you may examine them.” and opening the first at the title page he placed it before me. printed in big rough capitals on the damp-stained page were the words:?—

i pregj della toscana nel’ imprese piv ’segnalate de’ cavalieri di santo stefano. opera data in lvce da fulvo fontana della compagnia di gesù. in firenze mdcci.

the other was a somewhat thicker but smaller volume, parchment bound like the first, its title being statuti dell’ ordine de cavalieri di stefano and contained in italian a complete history of the order, the bulls of the popes concerning it, the regulations of its church and administration of its funds.

it was evident that mr. staffurth, although an elderly man, was not one to let grass grow beneath his feet. he pored over the books, blinking through his spectacles, and then continued his explanations, saying:?—

“it seems that the first admiral of this primitive fleet was guilio di medici, and although the knights rowed in galleys against the stronger ships of the turks they succeeded in capturing three of the latter on their first voyage in 1573. from that year down to 1688 they waged continuous war against the corsairs, until they had burned most of the strongholds of the latter, and entirely broken their power on the sea. now,” he added, “you told me something of a banner with a cross upon it.” and opening the bigger volume he showed me a large copper-plate engraving of one of the battles wherein vessels exactly similar in build to the seahorse were engaged, and each was flying a flag similar to the one i had discovered.

“the maltese cross,” he explained, “was the distinguishing badge of the knights of st. stephen who fought for christianity against the mohammedans, and succeeded in liberating so many of the white slaves. no movement was perhaps more humane, and none so completely forgotten, for even the order itself is now discontinued, and all that remains is that grand old church in pisa, nowadays visited by gaping tourists. from my investigations, however, it seems quite plain that the seahorse was one of the ships of the order, and although of english name, and probably of english build, its commander was the noble bartholomew da schorno, who had as lieutenant pomp?o marie a paule. the latter, as stated in the document with the leaden seal, was appointed commendatore by cosimo the second.”

“then the fact is established that the reason cannon and armed men were aboard the seahorse was because she was engaged in the suppression of piracy?” i said.

“exactly. your remark regarding the banner with the maltese cross gave me the cue, and i have, i think, successfully cleared up the first point. and, furthermore, you have recognized in this picture vessels built on the same lines. this picture, as you will see, represents the taking of the fortress of elimano from the corsairs in the year 1613.”

“then do you fix the date of the loss of the seahorse about that period?”

“i cannot say,” he responded. “it might have been ten, or even twenty years later.”

“not more?”

“no; not more. in these later pictures you will see that the vessels were of somewhat different build,” and the old expert turned over folio after folio of the rare and interesting volume.

“all this, however,” he remarked, “must be very dry to you. but you have sought my aid in this curious affair, and i am giving it to the best of my ability. we men who make a special study of history, or of pal?ography, are apt to believe that the general public are as absorbed in the gradual transition of the charter hands, or the vagaries of the anglo-norman scribes of the twelfth century, as we are ourselves. therefore, i hope you will forgive me if i have bored you, dr. pickering. i will promise,” he added, with a laugh, “not to offend again.”

“no apology is needed, my dear sir,” i hastened to reassure him; “i am so terribly ignorant of all these things, and all that you discover is to me of most intense interest, having regard to my own adventures, and to the existence of a survivor from the seahorse.”

“very well then,” he answered, apparently much gratified; “let us proceed yet another step.” and he placed aside the two borrowed volumes. “of course, i have not yet had sufficient time to decipher the whole of this volume written by bartholomew da schorno, but so far as i have gone i find that the writer, although of italian birth, lived in england, and it is with certain things in england that occurred in 1589 and 1590 that he deals—matters which are mysterious and certainly require investigation.”

from between the parchment leaves of the heavy book he drew several sheets of paper, which i saw were covered with pencil memoranda in his own handwriting, and these he spread before him to refresh his memory and make certain of his facts.

“from what is written here in old italian—which, by the way, is not the easiest language to decipher—it seems that bartholomew, the commander of the seahorse, was also a commendatore of the order of st. stephen, and a wealthy man who had forsaken the luxuries of ease to fight the corsairs and release their slaves. most probably he was owner of the vessel of which his compatriot paule was second in command. this, however, must be mere conjecture on our part for the present. what is chronicled here is most important, and it was in order to consult you at once that i telegraphed.”

then he paused, slowly turned over the vellum pages with his thin white hand, glancing for a few moments in silence at his memoranda. he had worked for hours over that crabbed yellow handwriting; indeed, he afterwards confessed to me that he had not been to bed at all, preferring, as a true palaeographist, to decipher the documents in the quiet hours instead of retiring to rest.

“it seems that this bartholomew da schorno was an italian noble who, falling into disgrace with the grand duke of ferrara, sold his estates and came to live in england during elizabeth’s reign,” he said. “as far as i have yet been able to gather, it appears that he purchased a house and lands at a place called caldecott. in my gazetteer i find there is a village of that name near kettering. the main portion of the manuscript consists of a long history of his family and the cause of the quarrel with the grand duke, written in a kind of wearisome diary. when, however, he comes to his visit to england, his audience with queen elizabeth, and his decision to settle at caldecott, he reveals himself as a man aggrieved at the treatment he has received in his own country, and yet fond of a life of excitement and adventure. it was the latter, he declares, that after a few years’ residence in england induced him to become a knight of st. stephen and to sail the seas in search of the corsairs in company with ‘the dear friend of his youth, the noble pomp?o a paule, of pisa.’?”

“but the secret,” i said interrupting him.

“as far as i have yet deciphered the manuscript i can discover nothing of it, only the mention that you have seen in the commencement. the book ends abruptly. perhaps he intended to explain some secret, but was prevented from so doing by the sinking of his ship.”

such seemed a most likely theory.

“the reason i called you here was to suggest that you should go to this place, caldecott, and see whether any descendants of this italian nobleman are still existing. they may possess family papers, and be able to throw some further lights on these documents. the place is near rockingham and not far from market harborough.”

this suggestion did not at that moment appeal to me. we were still too much in the dark.

“have you read the other document?” i inquired. “i mean the one with the seven signatures and the seal with the leopard.”

“yes,” he responded, and i noticed a strange expression pass across his grey countenance; “i have made a rough translation of it. the latin is much abbreviated, but its purport is a very remarkable one. at the present moment it is, perhaps, sufficient for me to briefly explain the contents without giving you the long and rather wearisome translation.”

then, taking up his pencilled notes again, he continued: “it is nothing else than a statement by this same bartholomew da schorno relating a very romantic circumstance. on a date which he gives as august 14, in the thirty-first year of elizabeth’s reign—which must be 1588—he was sailing in a ship called the great unicorn, and when off the cornish coast encountered a spanish ship which vigorously attacked them. this vessel proved to belong to the defeated armada, and had escaped the chase by howard, but by clever man?uvring of the great unicorn—presumably a ship used to fight the pirates of barbary—the spanish galleon was captured after a terrible encounter with great loss on both sides. on board was found a quantity of gold and silver, jewelled ornaments, and other treasure worth a great sum, and this being transferred to the great unicorn, together with the survivors of the crew, the vessel itself was scuttled and sent adrift. our friend bartholomew was evidently commander of the victorious vessel, for he weathered the storm which practically destroyed the remnant of the spanish fleet, sailed up channel, and landed his treasure secretly at great yarmouth, afterwards concealing it in a place of safety. as his was not an english warship and he had merely assumed a hostile attitude and fought fair and square in self-defence, he claims that he was entitled to the gold and jewels that had fallen into his hands.

“the persons who knew the place of concealment numbered seven, all of whom signed a covenant of secrecy. they were englishmen, all of them, and evidently the trusted followers of bartholomew. the covenant enacts that the treasure shall remain untouched under the guardianship of one richard knutton, who was left ‘at the place of concealment’ for that purpose. the seven men each swore a sacred oath to make no attempt to seize any part of the gold or jewels, they having each received from their master an equal amount as prize-money. the remainder was to lie hidden until such time as the order of st. stephen should require funds for the prosecution of their good work of rescuing christian slaves, when it was to be carried to italy. this, of course, seems rather a romantic decision, but there is added a clause which shows that this bartholomew was not only a chivalrous man, but was also fully alive to the wants of posterity.

“the second covenant provides that if the order of st. stephen never required funds, the secret of the existence of the treasure is to descend in the family of richard knutton alone, but two-thirds of the treasure itself is to become the property of the youngest surviving child of the family of clement wollerton, whom bartholomew names as ‘my esteemed lieutenant, who has twice been the means of saving my life,’ and ‘the remaining third to its guardian, the descendant of the said richard knutton, seaman, of the port of sandwich.’?”

“a very curious arrangement,” i said. “how do you understand it?”

“well,” the old man remarked, fingering the yellow parchment with its faded scribble, “it seems quite plain that a large amount of treasure was seized from a spanish galleon, brought ashore at yarmouth, and concealed somewhere under the care of three persons—richard knutton, george a. dafte, and robert dafte. if the knights of st. stephen have never claimed it, as most probably they have not, for they were a very wealthy association right up to the time of their extinction at the end of the seventeenth century, then the gold and jewels still remain concealed, the secret still being in the hands of the lineal descendants of richard knutton alone, and the heir to it, the youngest child of this wollerton family.”

“but have you discovered the place of concealment?” i asked anxiously.

“no. i expect the secret mentioned in this volume written at a later date has something to do with it, but i have not yet deciphered the whole. on the other hand, however, i cannot help thinking that if seven persons were aware of the secret hiding-place, and had signed the covenant, old bartholomew would scarcely write it down on parchment that might fall into an enemy’s hands.”