Gertrude thought for a moment: then her face brightened. "Cyrus, what kind of a bird is this?" and she pointed. "It might be a peacock," I said ironically. "Mr. Striver has not much notion of drawing." "Do you think it is an eagle?" she asked in an excited tone. "Good heavens, no!" I retorted. "Did you ever see an eagle like that?" "Joseph is not an artist." said Gertrude impatiently. "He certainly is not clever." "Neither are you, Cyrus, for all your talent. Oh, to think that the secret hiding-place should be in this very house." "What?" I stared alternately at Gertrude and at the paper. "Can't you see? Don't you understand," she cried, greatly excited, "an eagle amidst a cloud of flies--_Aquila non capit muscas_." I stared at her. "I have heard that sentence before." "And you have seen the drawing better executed in carving. Cyrus, what is the first letter of the motto?" "'A'--for Aquila--eagle. Yes?" "And the last letter?" "'S,' the terminal for _muscas_ for flies. Well?" She caught me by the hand. "Come into the smoking-room and light the lamps." "Oh, by Jove!" I saw her meaning now. She referred to the heavy beam across the smoking-room to which Mr. Monk had drawn my attention. We ran, hand in hand, like children, into the dark room. Gertrude struck a match and I, taking the box from her hand--and a shaking hand it was--struck another. In a few moments the powerful oil lamps were illuminating the room brilliantly. We both looked at the beam. "An eagle catching flies," cried Gertrude, pointing--"_Aquila non capit muscas_. My ancestors' queer old motto. The diamonds are there." "Hidden in the beam?" "Of course. Come and get a ladder from the outhouse. No; that won't do, as Eliza is so filled with curiosity. I don't want her to suspect anything. What are we to do?" "I can place this chair on the table, and as I am tall I can easily reach up to the beam," I said, suiting my actions to my words. "Close the door, Gertrude, so that Eliza can't come spying." Gertrude, who was all excitement, promptly locked the door. "But how are you to get the beam open? Shall I get an axe?" "Nonsense," I said, consulting the paper of Striver; "this is the hiding-place right enough. The beam must open in some way, but how?" "What about the reversed letters?" questioned Gertrude, "they are not reversed on the beam." "No; but they are on the paper. I know, Gertrude, these letters on the beam are raised so as to give one a grip. Get a candle, will you, or hand up a lamp." So as to lose no time she stretched with the lamp. I held it close to the raised carving of the beam, and particularly examined the first and last letters, "A" and "S." Circular lines appeared faintly round these, which were not visible round the other letters. I handed the lamp back. "What are you going to do?" asked Gertrude, replacing the lamp on its stand.