It was not a very long or difficult search. That three-sided
court south-east of the church, with deserted piles of building round
it, and grass-grown pavement, which you saw this morning, was the
place. And glad enough I was to see that it was put to no use, and was
neither very far from our inn nor overlooked by any inhabited building;
there were only orchards and paddocks on the slopes east of the church. I can tell you that fine stone glowed wonderfully in the rather watery
yellow sunset that we had on the Tuesday afternoon. “Next, what about the well? There was not much doubt about that, as you
can testify. It is really a very remarkable thing. That curb is, I
think, of Italian marble, and the carving I thought must be Italian
also. There were reliefs, you will perhaps remember, of Eliezer and
Rebekah, and of Jacob opening the well for Rachel, and similar
subjects; but, by way of disarming suspicion, I suppose, the Abbot had
carefully abstained from any of his cynical and allusive inscriptions. “I examined the whole structure with the keenest interest, of course—a
square well-head with an opening in one side; an arch over it, with a
wheel for the rope to pass over, evidently in very good condition
still, for it had been used within sixty years, or perhaps even later,
though not quite recently. Then there was the question of depth and
access to the interior. I suppose the depth was about sixty to seventy
feet; and as to the other point, it really seemed as if the Abbot had
wished to lead searchers up to the very door of his treasure-house,
for, as you tested for yourself, there were big blocks of stone bonded
into the masonry, and leading down in a regular staircase round and
round the inside of the well. “It seemed almost too good to be true. I wondered if there was a
trap—if the stones were so contrived as to tip over when a weight was
placed on them; but I tried a good many with my own weight and with my
stick, and all seemed, and actually were, perfectly firm. Of course, I
resolved that Brown and I would make an experiment that very night. “I was well prepared. Knowing the sort of place I should have to
explore, I had brought a sufficiency of good rope and bands of webbing
to surround my body, and cross-bars to hold to, as well as lanterns and
candles and crowbars, all of which would go into a single carpet-bag
and excite no suspicion. I satisfied myself that my rope would be long
enough, and that the wheel for the bucket was in good working order,
and then we went home to dinner. “I had a little cautious conversation with the landlord, and made out
that he would not be overmuch surprised if I went out for a stroll with
my man about nine o’clock, to make (Heaven forgive me!) a sketch of the
abbey by moonlight. I asked no questions about the well, and am not
likely to do so now. I fancy I know as much about it as anyone in
Steinfeld: at least”—with a strong shudder—“I don’t want to know any
more. “Now we come to the crisis, and, though I hate to think of it, I feel
sure, Gregory, that it will be better for me in all ways to recall it
just as it happened. We started, Brown and I, at about nine with our
bag, and attracted no attention; for we managed to slip out at the
hinder end of the inn-yard into an alley which brought us quite to the
edge of the village. In five minutes we were at the well, and for some
little time we sat on the edge of the well-head to make sure that no
one was stirring or spying on us. All we heard was some horses cropping
grass out of sight farther down the eastern slope. We were perfectly
unobserved, and had plenty of light from the gorgeous full moon to
allow us to get the rope properly fitted over the wheel. Then I secured
the band round my body beneath the arms. We attached the end of the
rope very securely to a ring in the stonework. Brown took the lighted
lantern and followed me; I had a crowbar. And so we began to descend
cautiously, feeling every step before we set foot on it, and scanning
the walls in search of any marked stone. “Half aloud I counted the steps as we went down, and we got as far as
the thirty-eighth before I noted anything at all irregular in the
surface of the masonry. Even here there was no mark, and I began to
feel very blank, and to wonder if the Abbot’s cryptogram could possibly
be an elaborate hoax. At the forty-ninth step the staircase ceased. It
was with a very sinking heart that I began retracing my steps, and when
I was back on the thirty-eighth—Brown, with the lantern, being a step
or two above me—I scrutinized the little bit of irregularity in the
stonework with all my might; but there was no vestige of a mark. “Then it struck me that the texture of the surface looked just a little
smoother than the rest, or, at least, in some way different. It might
possibly be cement and not stone. I gave it a good blow with my iron
bar. There was a decidedly hollow sound, though that might be the
result of our being in a well. But there was more. A great flake of
cement dropped on to my feet, and I saw marks on the stone underneath. I had tracked the Abbot down, my dear Gregory; even now I think of it
with a certain pride. It took but a very few more taps to clear the
whole of the cement away, and I saw a slab of stone about two feet
square, upon which was engraven a cross. Disappointment again, but only
for a moment. It was you, Brown, who reassured me by a casual remark. You said, if I remember right:

“‘It’s a funny cross: looks like a lot of eyes.’

“I snatched the lantern out of your hand, and saw with inexpressible
pleasure that the cross _was_ composed of seven eyes, four in a
vertical line, three horizontal. The last of the scrolls in the window
was explained in the way I had anticipated. Here was my ‘stone with the
seven eyes’. So far the Abbot’s data had been exact, and, as I thought
of this, the anxiety about the ‘guardian’ returned upon me with
increased force. Still, I wasn’t going to retreat now. “Without giving myself time to think, I knocked away the cement all
round the marked stone, and then gave it a prise on the right side with
my crowbar. It moved at once, and I saw that it was but a thin light
slab, such as I could easily lift out myself, and that it stopped the
entrance to a cavity. I did lift it out unbroken, and set it on the
step, for it might be very important to us to be able to replace it. Then I waited for several minutes on the step just above. I don’t know
why, but I think to see if any dreadful thing would rush out. Nothing
happened. Next I lit a candle, and very cautiously I placed it inside
the cavity, with some idea of seeing whether there were foul air, and
of getting a glimpse of what was inside. There _was_ some foulness of
air which nearly extinguished the flame, but in no long time it burned
quite steadily. The hole went some little way back, and also on the
right and left of the entrance, and I could see some rounded
light-coloured objects within which might be bags.