The Lost Treasure of Trevlyn: A Story of the Days of the Gunpowder PlotEverett-Green, Evelyn
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The Lost Treasure of Trevlyn: A Story of the Days of the Gunpowder Plot
Everett-Green, Evelyn
Gunpowder Plot, 1605 -- Juvenile fiction
This was the plan that had been carried out. His reception by Lady
Humbert, and her kindness to the lonely Petronella when her pitiful
story was told, quite decided Cuthbert to confide the golden secret
to her. She listened in amaze, but was highly pleased at being the
first person to know it. She laid her hand on Cuthbert's head, and
spoke to him of the old saw which predicted that fortune should
return to the Wyverns through the daughters' sons, and declared
that he was fulfilling the prophecy she had longed to live to see
come true. Cuthbert trusted that such indeed would be the case, but
did not know whether the Wyverns had any lot or share in the
treasure trove. Whereat the old lady smiled, and said that she laid
no claim to the gold--it was none of theirs, and never would be;
but still, with her hand on Cuthbert's head, she declared that
after herself and her sister he should reign at the Cross Way
House, and that his share of the treasure, which in all sooth
should be a large one, since but for him it might never have been
found, would go to restore the fallen fortunes of the house, and to
fulfil in very truth the fondly-cherished prediction.
Cuthbert's amazement had naturally been great; but this fair
prospect held out to him had but given greater zest to his
enterprise. Not to a single soul in the house would Lady Humbert
confide the secret, lest amongst themselves the faithful old
servants should gossip, and rumour get abroad that the lonely house
was worth attacking. In the dead of night, upon appointed dates,
Cuthbert brought to a certain iron-barred window the laden ass
bearing his costly burden, and Petronella and Lady Humbert
themselves received the treasure and bore it piece by piece to the
secret room. Not a creature slept on that side of the house--not a
living being knew what was passing in the dead hours of the night; and
in this fashion the treasure was being brought, Cuthbert descending
the well, into which a little water had now filtered--enough to
conceal the treasure from a passing observer if such there should
chance to be--and with the assistance of their four-footed friend,
drawing up as much as the patient beast could carry, and transporting
it by night to this very house.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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