have had catholic leanings, that would have been dangerous to admit to, although I always suspected that Frederick leant that way.”
“Well, it has been a wasted journey, but at least we have checked everywhere there could be a treasure unless it is under the slabs of the floor, and I don’t want to lift them all in the hopes there might be. I think the sonnet is referring to somewhere specific, not saying take the whole floor up.”
Rupert frowned. “Wait, behind the lady chapel, there is another door. I’ve never been inside there. When I saw the chapel as a boy, there was some kind of curtain hanging over it. I have three more keys, let’s see if one of them unlocks it.”
The smallest of the keys was clearly too small for the lock, but the final key looked about right. Rupert inserted it into the lock, and it turned easily. The door opened inwards to reveal a small room which had some shelves to one side.
The outside wall had two narrow arrow-slit windows letting in a little light. On the shelves was a pile of linen, apparently some discarded vestments and faded altar cloths. A large bible, nicely bound in scarlet leather, which was unsurprisingly written in Latin and an oil lamp with a fairly recently made tinderbox beside it. In the centre of the floor was a plain wooden table with absolutely nothing on it.
“Not much is there, I presume it was used as a vestry of sorts. Bible’s in Latin, which supports your theory. Oh, what is that under the table? I think a piece of oak has been set into the floor,” Rupert pointed out.
Rupert pushed the table to one side of the room to examine the floor more easily.
There was indeed a piece of wood which looked to have come from a very large tree. It was roughly square in shape and clearly hinged to the stone with some brass fixings. At the other side was a brass plate that contained a small keyhole.
“I think this is the lock that the smaller key fits,” Rupert said, trying it in the lock. The key turned with a small click. He lifted the edge of the wood slab and carefully folded it back to reveal some worn stone steps going down into pitch-black darkness.
“Now I see what the oil lamp was for, shall we risk exploring what looks like a crypt?”
“Mary never mentioned going in a crypt, but she said it had been when she was a little girl that she remembered seeing it. Her late father was the vicar at that time, so that might explain how she had access to the chapel,” Verity said as Rupert attempted to light the lantern. It took a couple of tries, but it lit, and he adjusted it to produce a small pool of light.
“Are you sure you want to come down too? I doubt it will be very nice down there, it will be musty and full of cobwebs. You could wait in the chapel if you prefer, I would not want you to be scared.”
“So, you think me a faint-heart, Rupert Rogers, now I am insulted,” she said in mock anger.
Rupert grinned, “I most humbly apologize, my lady. How can I atone for such a heinous sin?”
“I will think of some forfeit you must pay, perhaps I will make you read me all of Frederick’s love poetry? If you think some nasty spiders and mouldering bones are going to put me off when we might find the treasure, you have another think coming to you…”
Rupert chuckled. “I was fearing something far, far worse than reading you poetry. I had better go first.”
“Without your clothes on…” she drawled in a whisper, so he almost did not hear her. Then she giggled, which made him sure she had really said it.
“If you are naked as well, that would be a pleasure to anticipate, careful this bit is very worn…” he said, turning to steady her. “We have nearly reached the bottom.”
The cold hit them as they reached the stone floor. Rupert held the lamp up high; it showed only part of a deep vaulted crypt, which the lamplight revealed contained several sarcophaguses, carved out of slabs of pale coloured stone. Here, the incense smell was more intense, but there was no real smell of mould or decay.
They moved around the tombs silently inspecting them for clues, most had the top slab incised with some writing, much obscured by age