The Secret of Pembrooke Park(37)

Abigail rose and walked over. “Where? I don’t recall seeing any writing.”

“Here in the last two pages. They were a bit stuck together—from the ink, perhaps.”

Kitty held up the miniature black book, her thumb holding it open to the spot. Abigail gently took if from her and squinted at the tiny writing. Foolishly, she hoped for a secret message. A clue to the location of the treasure, if one existed, even as she silently chastised herself for being ridiculous. She was glad Kitty could not read her private thoughts. Abigail was supposed to be the wise older female. Instead she felt like a silly adolescent, excited at the prospect of a secret treasure map.

But no map or message met her gaze. At least not that she could instantly decipher. Not even full words: Gen 4 Eat + ed. Num + 10.

“Does it mean something, like a code?” Kitty asked. “Or is it just scribbles?”

“I don’t know.”

“Gen and Num could be Genesis and Numbers. Books of the Bible,” Kitty said, looking at the book over her shoulder.

“You’re right.” Abigail smiled at the girl. “Spoken like a fine clergyman’s sister.”

Kitty peered closer. “Genesis 4 and Numbers 10 . . . ? But see that symbol? Is it a plus sign or a t?”

“A plus sign, I think.”

“Numbers plus ten? Ten books later?”

“We’re looking for a code to decipher, when it probably means nothing,” Abigail said. “Perhaps some child decided to write in the blank pages to make it seem more like a real book, but was caught in the act and stopped before he or she finished.”

Kitty frowned. “Odd words to write.”

Abigail agreed. “I wonder why he or she wrote these particular words in the back. Even I know Genesis is in the beginning of the Bible, not here at the end.”

“Maybe it’s a secret message.” Kitty’s eyes shone. “About a hidden treasure . . . ?”

Abigail looked at her. “You’ve heard the rumors too?”

“Of course.” The girl glanced around Abigail’s bedchamber. “Have you a Bible?”

“No,” Abigail admitted, somewhat sheepishly. She had her lovely leather edition of the New Testament and Psalms and a prayer book but rarely delved into the Old Testament.

“Have you seen the Pembrooke family Bible somewhere?” Kitty asked. “Maybe there’s a clue tucked inside at these pages.”

“Good idea.”

A knock sounded at the open door. Abigail looked over in surprise. William Chapman’s profile came into view, though he averted his eyes, not looking directly into her bedchamber. In case she was dishabille?

“Kitty? Papa asked me to stop by and remind you not to stay too late. You are minding Mrs. Wilson’s twins tonight.”

Ignoring this, Kitty said, “William will know.” She called to him, “William, does Genesis 4 and Numbers plus 10 mean anything to you?”

Abigail went to the door and opened it all the way, giving the man a welcoming smile. “I’m afraid we’ve stumbled upon a little mystery. Just a game, no doubt.”

“I let myself in. I hope you don’t mind,” he said. “But the door was open, and as I know the servants have the day off . . .”

“William, what is Genesis 4 about?” Kitty called again.

He pursed his lips in surprise and then recollection. “Cain and Abel and their descendants, I believe. Why?”

She thrust the tiny book in his face, and he gently took it from her and held it at a better angle to read.

His eyes narrowed in thought. “Genesis 4. Eat plus e.d. Eated . . . Ate? Perhaps Genesis 4:8?”

“Oh! I had not thought of that. You’re so clever, William,” Kitty enthused.

Abigail privately agreed.

“Numbers plus ten . . .” he continued. “Ten books later? That would be . . .” He murmured to himself through the books. “Second Chronicles. Or perhaps it means to add ten to the chapter or verse? Four plus ten, meaning Numbers fourteen? Or eight plus ten equals eighteen?”

“Which is it?” Kitty asked.

“I haven’t the foggiest. Have you a Bible handy, Miss Foster?”

“Not the Old Testament, I’m afraid.”

“Then I’m glad for an opportunity to spur your interest in cracking open that volume.”

“Even for a game—and no doubt a wild-goose chase in the bargain?”

He said gently, “One might open the book idly, but one never knows what treasures one might find.”

She snapped her head up.

His blue eyes twinkled. “Though I’m guessing that’s not the type of treasure you had in mind.”

Abigail said, “Come. If you are both so interested, let us go down to the library. No doubt there’s a Bible there. Perhaps even the family Bible.”

Together they went downstairs and looked through the library—its desk and shelves—but found no family Bible. Too bad, Abigail thought. She would have liked to look inside and seen the births, marriages, and deaths recorded in the front leaves of the Pembrooke family Bible.

Mr. Chapman offered to run across the drive to the parsonage and retrieve his own Bible. He returned a few minutes later with a well-worn copy.

He opened the volume and flipped through the first thin pages. “Here we are. Let’s see if I remembered correctly. Genesis 4:8. ‘And Cain talked with Abel his brother: and it came to pass, when they were in the field, that Cain rose up against Abel his brother, and slew him.’”