Gareth made his way over to the the tall ruins of the Abbey church and walked straight to the back, where he knew the altar must have stood hundreds of years ago. Considering the fact that this place was visited by thousands of tourists every year, he knew finding the next clue would not be easy. But tourists did not have the advantage of knowing something was hidden. He squinted his eyes and looked around for anything unusual.

Considering she had found the last clue quite by accident, she was not about to make it a competition between her and Mister Scott. But she did move about in search of clues, looking this way and that. "The last clue was a loose brick," she murmured to herself. "I doubt it will be as simple as tripping and touching a wall again." She turned about and glanced around some more.

In this particular instance, the fact that this was a popular tourist attraction actually played against them just a tad. There was more graffiti in the ruins than there would have been back when the clue was hidden. Still, they knew what to look for if the two had been paying attention. Carved into another piece of stone that was just above eye level and just barely noticeable if one stood where the alter once been, was an image of a hand pointing to the right. The only question was who would spot it first?

Gareth walked around, squinting his eyes a little and looking for anything unusual. And then he stepped just into the right spot with the right lighting to catch the shadow of carving in the stone. He observed it carefully and realized it was a hand, pointing. "Over here, there's a hand!" he called to the others and he stepped closer to the wall and pointed at the image.

The excitement came when Mr. Scott announced he found the clue. She went over and knelt down, tracing her finger over the carving and saying, "This is fascinating." Her spectacles were then pulled out and placed on her nose so she could actually see the clue better. "It's obviously pointing in a direction we should look."

Quentin comes up and looks at the finger-pointing, he has to squint a bit to make it out and then nods. "Well spotted Gareth." He says as his gaze follows the direction that the hand is pointing. "And well reasoned Claire." He adds as it seems the finger is pointing towards a window peering out of it he frowns as there doesn't seem to be anything out there. However as he examines the frem he finds another pointing finger on the outside, this one heading towards the entrance of the abbey. "It appears as though it's a case of following the fingers."

Gareth frowned a little when they were addressed by their first names. Did this man consider them his servants now? Just his luck. He focused back on the task at hand though. As Quentin found another sign, he walked over and he began to walk in the direction of the entrance of the Abbey. He hoped they weren't going to follow an endless chain of fingers.

She barely noticed that her first name was used, she was concentrating on finding the next finger. Who would take the time to carve out the clues if there was no treasure? She hoped more and more it wasn't an elaborate ruse. It was like a scavenger hunt and it was becoming fun for her to try and figure out these riddles. It sure beat living a boring life of a lady.

They follow the trail of fingers which leads them around the Abbey until they locate the last one. It proved the hardest to find since a bit of moss had grown over it but they eventually figured it out. The final finger pointed straight down and looking between them Quentin shrugs his shoulders.

"Well, that was an oversight. I suppose I should have brought to bring some shovels."

So, since he was the leader he was the one to get on his knees and start digging with his hands.

Gareth stared down at Quentin digging with his hands. Why would someone go through so much trouble hiding a treasure? Why not put it in a safe and pass on the key? But seamen had their own way of doing things, he supposed. Whatever the explanation, Gareth thought it was an awful lot of trouble, and there was no way he was going to dig the cold ground with his hands. He'd never get the dirt out from under his nails. "I could go down into town and get a shovel...?" he suggested.

Also, were they going to get into trouble for digging on someone's property? He didn't want to get into trouble with the law. That prick Crane was probably dying for a reason to arrest him.