Unfortunatly for Claire, there was nothing inside of the little cache behind the brick. Of course, this disappointment would be rather shortlived as Quentin chuckles at Gareth's rather snappish response. "I would rather think that I know they are two separate things for two important reasons Mister Scott." He reaches into his pocket and retrieves a small water proof case with a tight seal. "One, we are looking for a treasure ship. Two, I already found this clue but as Claire can attest I thought seeing if my new hires on could locate it themselves would prove to be a good measure of their worth."

There is a slightly teasing smile on his features, amusement that the reporter hadn't guessed as much considering that Quentin had known to come to Glaisedale. Popping the top of the tube he taps out the contents. A slightly yellowed piece of parchment that would fit with his first scrap of map. "Are you two ready for the next clue? No more handouts going forward I haven't even read it myself so I do not know where it might send us."

She wrinkled her nose and then put the brick back where it had been. "That is unfortunate," she muttered and then turned her attention to Gareth. She gave a little bit of a shrug then and said, "It would have been too easy if there had been something behind the brick, I suppose." Her words drawled out casually, and then she walked back over toward Quentin. When he brought up the next clue, Claire gave a nod, expression neutral at the teasing in his manner. "I am as ready as I'll ever be, Quentin." She felt odd using the man's given name, but it was what he wanted.

Gareth rose and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He felt Quentin might as well have used tested their suitability on a real clue, instead of wasting everyone's time. But he kept his face straight and turned to the marques. "So am I," he added.

Quentin could tell his two companions were a bit put out from finding out there was nothing behind the brick. However, there was little point in holding a test if the proctor did not know the answer, so while it may have seemed pointless it had been quite informative. Claire had proven she had a keen eye while Gareth had shown he had decent journalistic and interview skills. Both of which meant they would be of help in locating the next clue.

He reads the clue to the two aloud. "Old Reinfield needed a hand so I left him near the altar." He intones before looking up at Garth and Claire expectantly, curious to hear what they thought about this one. It followed the same basic idea as the last clue he assumed, the name of a historical figure to lead them to a landmark followed by a rough idea of where the clue was hidden and what the mark looked like.

Gareth didn't think for long. Of course altar instantly had him thinking of Whitby's religious history, although the name confused him. "Reinfield could be a mispronunciation of 'Reinfrid', the founder of the second monastery on the East Cliff..." he suggested. He looked at Claire. "Unless you know a Reinfield?"

"No, can't say that I do." She gave a nonchalont shrug at that and then smiled. "Your answer makes perfect sense to me." Okay, so she didn't know the answer herself, but being sweet was much better than being sour. She looked over to Quentin and nodded toward Gareth, "What do you think, Quentin?"

"The mention of an altar implies a holy site of some sort. Considering that the man who wrote these was first mate on a pirate vessel some mistakes should perhaps be expected." Quentin says with a chuckle as he returns the scrap to the tube. "It is late but I believe we have time to get back to Whitby before sun sets. At which point we can reconvene at day break tomorrow and get in a full days worth of treasure hunting. I will explain your pay rate on the ride back if this sounds equitable to you both."

Gareth nodded at the proposal, though he wondered: If the mate had made mistakes, what if they were going to be led astray? "Perhaps on the way, you can tell us more about the history of the treasure, sir. Who wrote these clues, and who were they intended for? How did youobtain them?" He hoped the story was juicy.

She was in agreement with both men, and nodded. "That is perfectly fine, Quentin," she said and then nodded to Gareth and then Quentin, "I think that is a grand idea, telling us the story behind this treasure hunt of ours." She was genuinely interested it seemed.

"Very well then, I shall keep you entertained on the carriage ride back."

Quentin says with a chuckle before leading the way back to the carriage. It was still waiting for them the privileges of wealth meant that Quentin had been able to pay for the man to loiter until their next step was decided. Entering the carriage he waits for his young companions to settle and the carriage to start moving before beginning the story.

"Captain Julius Smythe was a notorious pirate, captain of the ship The Never Die. He terrorized the British coast for many years, his treasure all hidden in a secret cove whose entrance was hidden from those who would seek it out. His career lasted nearly a decade before the ship was scuttled and most of the crew captured or killed. The exception to this was Liam Caverhall, the first mate and a native of Whitby. He managed to cut a deal that secured his release and he took with him the only map to the cove intent on returning once he felt certain the empire would not be looking for him."

Quentin pauses and looks at the two for a moment, letting that all sink in.

"Our man Caverhall returned to his home town and took up work as a scribe. You see on his return to Whitby he broke his leg and it never healed right, this kept him from returning as it made travel difficult. He'd been forced to learn to read and write to help keep track of the ship's logs during his tenure on The Never Die. Working as a scribe he had a chance to read some books of local history and he developed a taste for it, electing to hide his map around town to keep it safe for his descendants. Unfortunately, his son didn't believe his father's tales of treasure and he elected to sell the map piece to some poor fool. It passed through numerous hands before winding up at auction where I purchased it."