, but it
seemed to me that it was a token whereby the poor babe's friends may
know her again, if she have any kindred not lost at sea."

The token was a small gold cross, of peculiar workmanship, with a
crystal in the middle, through which might be seen some mysterious
object neither husband nor wife could make out, but which they agreed
must be carefully preserved for the identification of their little
waif. Mrs. Talbot also produced a strip of writing which she had found
sewn to the inmost band wrapped round the little body, but it had no
superscription, and she believed it to be either French, Latin, or High
Dutch, for she could make nothing of it. Indeed, the good lady's
education had only included reading, writing, needlework and cookery,
and she knew no language but her own. Her husband had been taught
Latin, but his acquaintance with modern tongues was of the nautical
order, and entirely oral and vernacular. However, it enabled him to
aver that the letter--if such it were--was neither Scottish, French,
Spanish, nor High or Low Dutch. He looked at it in all directions, and
shook his head over it.

"Who can read it, for us?" asked Mrs. Talbot. "Shall we ask Master
Heatherthwayte? he is a scholar, and he said he would look in to see
how you fared."

"At supper-time, I trow," said Richard, rather grimly, "the smell of
thy stew will bring him down in good time."

"Nay, dear sir, I thought you would be fain to see the good man, and he
lives but poorly in his garret."

"Scarce while he hath good wives like thee to boil his pot for him,"
said Richard, smiling. "Tell me, hath he heard aught of this gear?
thou hast not laid this scroll before him?"

"No, Colet brought it to me only now, having found it when washing the
swaddling-bands, stitched into one of them."

"Then hark thee, good wife, not one word to him of the writing."

"Might he not interpret it?"

"Not he! I must know more about it ere I let it pass forth from mine
hands, or any strange eye fall upon it-- Ha, in good time! I hear his
step on the stair."

The captain hastily rolled up the scroll and put it into his pouch,
while Mistress Susan felt as if she had made a mistake in her
hospitality, yet almost as if her husband were unjust towards the good
man who had been such a comfort to her in her sorrow; but there was no
lack of cordiality or courtesy in Richard's manner when, after a short,
quick knock, there entered a figure in hat, casso