keep, and pointed upward to a spot above the arch where some one had been scraping and scrubbing away the stains of time. There, clean white now in the midst of rusty stonework, was a carved device—shield-shaped—two ships and two wheat-sheaves; and underneath on a scroll the motto in Latin—Per terram et aquam—By land and sea—in token that the old Montdidiers held themselves willing to do duty on either element. The same device and the same motto were on the gold signet ring on Monty's little finger.
"What's happening on top of the keep?" demanded Will.
Fred laughed aloud. We could not see up from inside, for at least one of the stone floors remained intact.
"Can't you guess?" demanded Fred. "Didn't I tell you the man has 'verted to Crusader days?"
But Monty explained.
"There's an old stone socket up there that used to hold the flag-pole. Two or three fellows have been kind enough to haul a tree up there, and they're trimming it to fit."
"If we were wise we'd hang you to it, Didums, and save you from a lousy Turkish jail!"
"Thank you, Fred," Monty answered. "There are capitulations still, I fancy. No Turk can legally try me, or imprison me a minute. I'm answerable to the British consul."
"They're fine, legal-minded sticklers for the rules, the Turks are!" Fred retorted.
"But we've a net laid for the Turks!" smiled Monty.
Fred shook his head. Monty led the way toward stone steps, whose treads had been worn into smooth hollows centuries before by the feet of men in armor.
