“Oh, I don't know!” he replied carelessly. “I don't see that that follows. I saw the book--a curious old binding and queer old copper-plates. The man may have picked it up for that reason--I've bought old books myself for less.” “All the same,” retorted Campany, “I should make inquiry at Barthorpe. You've got to go on probabilities. The probabilities in this case are that the man was interested in the book because it dealt with his own town.” Bryce turned away towards a wall on which hung a number of charts and plans of Wrychester Cathedral and its precincts--it was to inspect one of these that he had come to the Library. But suddenly remembering that there was a question which he could ask without exciting any suspicion or surmise, he faced round again on the librarian. “Isn't there a register of burials within the Cathedral?” he inquired. “Some book in which they're put down? I was looking in the Memorials of Wrychester the other day, and I saw some names I want to trace.” Campany lifted his quill pen and pointed to a case of big leather-bound volumes in a far corner of the room. “Third shelf from the bottom, doctor,” he replied. “You'll see two books there--one's the register of all burials within the Cathedral itself up to date: the other's the register of those in Paradise and the cloisters. What names are you wanting to trace?” But Bryce affected not to hear the last question; he walked over to the place which Campany had indicated, and taking down the second book carried it to an adjacent table. Campany called across the room to him. “You'll find useful indexes at the end,” he said. “They're all brought up to the present time--from four hundred years ago, nearly.” Bryce turned to the index at the end of his book--an index written out in various styles of handwriting. And within a minute he found the name he wanted--there it was plainly before him--Richard Jenkins, died March 8th, 1715: buried, in Paradise, March 10th. He nearly laughed aloud at the ease with which he was tracing out what at first had seemed a difficult matter to investigate. But lest his task should seem too easy, he continued to turn over the leaves of the big folio, and in order to have an excuse if the librarian should ask him any further questions, he memorized some of the names which he saw. And after a while he took the book back to its shelf, and turned to the wall on which the charts and maps were hung. There was one there of Paradise, whereon was marked the site and names of all the tombs and graves in that ancient enclosure; from it he hoped to ascertain the exact position and whereabouts of Richard Jenkins's grave.