They lifted it out and carried it to the light, and then with great excitement they unrolled the coverings.  It proved to be a gold-and-jeweled crucifix and beneath it lay a parchment with a seal.

Leaving the pieces of gold in the box, they carried the crucifix and the parchment out on to the terrace, and then the Professor adjusted his strongest spectacles and prepared to read what he could, while Halcyone examined the beautiful thing.

The writing was still fairly dark and the words were in Latin.  It stated, so the Professor read, that the money and the crucifix were the property of Timothy La Sarthe, Gentleman to Queen Henrietta Maria, and that, should aught befall him in his flight to France upon secret business for Her Majesty, the gold and the crucifix belonged to whichever of his descendants should find it—­or it should be handed to; that all others were cursed who should touch it, and that it would bring the owner fortune, as it was the work of one Benvenuto Cellini, an artist of great renown in Florence before his day, and therefore of great value.  The quaintly phrased deed added that if it were taken to one Reuben Zana, a Jew in the Jewry at the sign of the Golden Horn, he would dispose of it for a large sum to the French king.  The crucifix had been brought from Florence in the dower of his wife Donna Vittoria Tornabuoni, now dead.  If his son Timothy should secure it, he was advised not to keep it, as its possession brought trouble to the family.

“Then it is legally ours and not treasure-trove,” said Halcyone.  “Oh, how good!  It will make the Aunts La Sarthe quite rich perhaps, and look how beautiful it is, the jeweled thing.”

They examined it minutely.  It was a masterpiece of that great craftsman and artist and of untold value.  Cheiron silently thrilled with the delight of it—­but Halcyone spoke.

“I am glad Ancestor Timothy suggested selling it,” she said.  “I would never keep a crucifix, the emblem of sorrow and pain.  For me, Christ is always glorified and happy in heaven.  Now what must we do, Master?  Must we at once tell the aunts?  But I will not consent to anyone knowing of this staircase.  That would destroy something which I could never recover.  We must pretend we have found it in the long gallery; there is a recess in the paneling which no one knows of but I, and there we can put it and find it again.  It will be quite safe.  Shall we leave it there, Cheiron, until we come back from abroad?  How much do you think it is worth?”

“Anything up to fifty thousand pounds perhaps to a collector,” the Professor said, “since it is an original and unique.  Look at the splendid rubies and emeralds and these two big diamonds at the top, and there is so little of Benvenuto’s work left that is authentic.”

“That is an unusual sum of money, is it not?” Halcyone asked.  “That would surely give them anything they want for their lives; perhaps we ought not to keep them waiting.”