She had been rolled up in Mrs. Talbot's baby's clothes, and her own
long swaddling bands hung over the back of a chair, where they had
been dried before the fire. They were of the finest woollen below,
and cambric above, and the outermost were edged with lace, whose
quality Mrs. Talbot estimated very highly.

"See," she added, "what we found within. A Popish relic, is it not?
Colet and Mistress Gale were for making away with it at once, but it
seemed to me that it was a token whereby the poor babe's friends may
know her again, if she have any kindred not lost at sea."

The token was a small gold cross, of peculiar workmanship, with a
crystal in the middle, through which might be seen some mysterious
object neither husband nor wife could make out, but which they agreed
must be carefully preserved for the identification of their little
waif. Mrs. Talbot also produced a strip of writing which she had
found sewn to the inmost band wrapped round the little body, but it
had no superscription, and she believed it to be either French,
Latin, or High Dutch, for she could make nothing of it. Indeed, the
good lady's education had only included reading, writing, needlework
and cookery, and she knew no language but her own. Her husband had
been taught Latin, but his acquaintance with modern tongues was of
the nautical order, and entirely oral and vernacular. However, it
enabled him to aver that the letter--if such it were--was neither
Scottish, French, Spanish, nor High or Low Dutch. He looked at it in
all directions, and shook his head over it.

"Who can read it, for us?" asked Mrs. Talbot. "Shall we ask Master
Heatherthwayte? he is a scholar, and he said he would look in to see
how you fared."