r
search is fruitless."

"It is so, indeed," exclaimed George, "for how can we tell to which of
the coffins that have lost the plates this one really belongs?"

"I should not be so hopeless," said Marchdale. "I have, from time to
time, in the pursuit of antiquarian lore, which I was once fond of,
entered many vaults, and I have always observed that an inner coffin of
metal was sound and good, while the outer one of wood had rotted away,
and yielded at once to the touch of the first hand that was laid upon
it."

"But, admitting that to be the case," said Henry, "how does that assist
us in the identification of a coffin?"

"I have always, in my experience, found the name and rank of the
deceased engraved upon the lid of the inner coffin, as well as being set
forth in a much more perishable manner on the plate which was secured to
the outer one."

"He is right," said Mr. Chillingworth. "I wonder we never thought of
that. If your ancestor was buried in a leaden coffin, there will be no
difficulty in finding which it is."

Henry seized the light, and proceeding to one of the coffins, which
seemed to be a mass of decay, he pulled away some of the rotted wood
work, and then suddenly exclaimed,--

"You are quite right. Here is a firm strong leaden coffin within, which,
although quite black, does not otherwise appear to have suffered."

"What is the inscription on that?" said George.

With difficulty the name on the lid was deciphered, but it was found not
to be the coffin of him whom they sought.

"We can make short work of this," said Marchdale, "by only examining
those leaden coffins which have lost the plates from off their outer
cases. There do not appear to be many in such a state."

He then, with another light, which he lighted from the one that Henry
now carried, commenced actively assisting in the search, which was
carried on silently for more than ten minutes.

Suddenly Mr. Marchdale cried, in a tone of excitement,--

"I have found it. It is here."

They all immediately surrounded the spot where he was, and then he
pointed to the lid of a coffin, which he had been rubbing with his
handkerchief, in order to make the inscription more legible, and said,--

"See. It is here."

By the combined light of the candles they saw the words,--

"Marmaduke Bannerworth, Yeoman, 1640."

"Yes, there can be no mistake here," said Henry. "This is the coffin,
and it shall be opened."

"I have the iron crowbar here