“Discussion about the key and the legatee has been a closed subject traditionally—except to those directly concerned. I suppose Diana didn’t even tell her sons much—the uncertainty about who should have it would have muddled her. This much I know. The family legend says that the key, a written document, and the cottage—with one or two other things I can’t recall—must pass as a whole to the first girl. It’s the exact opposite of the English passion for male primogeniture. Once or twice it went to a granddaughter, I believe, in the instance that a mother predeceased her mother. But once the inheritance was given, it couldn’t be ungiven—so it was usual practice to wait on it, more or less. Other siblings were given small cash sums instead, or the chance to be bought out of the property. But until recently, I don’t think the Hampshire house was all that valuable. Property prices there have only jumped in modern times. I wonder how she planned to divide it between her boys. But I guess she knew she was at the end of the line, and something would happen.”

“What do you mean, ‘end of the line,’ and that it couldn’t be ungiven?” Calvin gave her more coffee without taking his eyes from her.

“Mom always said that the key to the treasure was pledged, right from the start. There’s an aural history that goes along with it: it must find its way into the right hands. If the wrong person tries to take it, grief will follow. It’s been dedicated—like a curse, I guess. And once given, it mustn’t be taken back. It must be willed upon very careful consideration.”

“You mean like the Ark of the Covenant? That was said to make people ill if they stole it.”

Faith laughed openly. “Something like that—if you believe it. And I know it had so much time to run. So many generations—I’m not sure how many. But don’t be out of joint, Calvin. It’s a blessing only to the one person it’s destined for: to everyone else it’s a burden.”

Now she broke off and changed the subject. “But tell me, more importantly, how long have I got you? You haven’t even told me what you’re doing here. Have we got time to walk along the beach?”

“For sure. I’d like to stay tonight; but I’ve got an important meeting in Boston tomorrow, and then I’m booked on the late-night flight. I really wanted to be back Wednesday, but Thursday will have to do.”

Faith thought he looked strained and, as usual, had no idea of the real cast of his mind. But she said lightly: “Too bad. Hardly time to get the boat down. You’ll have to come back with your girlfriend, for Easter.”

27