thing that had happened on her trip.
“Poor Juliana!” Bess said. “How dreadful to
have her career cut off that way!”
“I wish you could have found the nurse Emily
Foster,” George added. “Well, what are you going
to work on next?”
“This note, or rather, this piece of a note.”
Nancy produced the bit of paper and the girls
pored over it for some time, each with a pencil
and paper, trying to fill in the lines to form a logi-
cal message. Bess was the first one to claim having
pieced together the missing words.
“Listen to this,” she said. “I’ve got it!
” ‘Dear C,
Some place is the se-
cret which I hid
in a wall. I want to be
famous. If I can sell it, I will be
worthy of you.’ ”
George scoffed. “If he was going to sell it, why
would he hide it in a wall?”
“Well, it fits the missing words,” Bess defended
herself.
“One guess is as good as another,” Nancy said,
then she stared thoughtfully at the paper before
her. Suddenly she jumped up from the chair and
said, “The solution to this mystery might be right
in this very house!”
Without explaining her strange remark, Nancy
ran from her room and down the stairs. A few
minutes later she returned with a large book.
“How in the world are you going to find Juli-
ana with that?” George asked.
The book contained a collection of colored
photographs and descriptions of famous old
homes and gardens in England.
“I forgot I had this,” Nancy said, quickly turn-
ing the pages. “Look here!”
“Heath Castle!” exclaimed George.
“The original one in England. Only it wasn’t
called Heath, of course.”
“And the gardens,” cried Bess as they scanned
picture after picture. Nancy was reading a de-
scription under one of them when suddenly a
paragraph below caught her eyes.
“Listen to this! I think we have the clue we’ve
been looking for!”
CHAPTER XII
Secret Entrance
George and Bess studied the paragraph to which
Nancy had pointed. It had been written in Mid-
dle English. Nancy had learned in school to read
the works of the poet Chaucer, who wrote in that
language. Eagerly she translated the quotation.
” ‘I have hidden my treasures in the niches of
the cloister through which, all unsuspecting, the
noble men and fair ladies pass each day to
bathe.'”
“Sounds quaint,” Bess said. “But how does it
help us?”
“Don’t you see?” Nancy said. “Ira Heath built
his estate to resemble the one in England. Prob-
ably he and his son knew about the old cloister.”
“Granted.” George nodded. “But so what?”
“If the Heaths had a treasure to hide, wouldn’t
their cloister have been a good place to put it?”
“Do you really think they had a treasure?” Bess
asked.
“I don’t know,” Nancy replied, “but I have a
hunch they did. We know certain men are search-
ing for a clue, but they also mentioned having
found other things. Perhaps those were part of
the treasure.”
“Is there a cloister in the Heath gardens?”
George asked. “I haven’t seen one.”
Nancy turned the page. The three girls looked
at the picture on it, which showed a long passage-
way flanked by columns leading toward a river.
“This is the cloister!” said Nancy excitedly.
“Oh, I wonder whether there’s one at Heath
Castle!”
“You didn’t notice it from the tower?” Bess in-
quired.
“N-no,” Nancy answered slowly. “But there
was something leading from the castle toward the
river-a kind of tunnel covered with vines.”
“I’ll bet that’s it,” George said enthusiastically.
“Listen! The bell. Someone’s at the door.”
Nancy went downstairs to see who it was. The
caller proved to be Salty.
“And how are ye, lass?” he asked with a smile.
“Sorry I can’t give ye any report about that fellow
what crashed into ye. I been lookin’ high an’ low
for his boat, but I ain’t seen any part o’ her.”
“Thank you. You’ve been very helpful,” Nancy
said, then added, “Salty, I’m thinking of going to
the Heath gardens by boat. Have you ever noticed
a-a sort of tunnel there, leading from the