John Cann's Treasure by Grant Allen

In a corner of the Cathedral graveyard at Spanish Town, overhung by a big spreading mango tree, and thickly covered by prickly scrub of agave and cactus, the white-haired old mulatto gentleman led Cecil Mitford up to a water-worn and weathered stone, on which a few crumbling letters alone were still visible. Cecil kneeled down on the bare ground, regardless of the sharp cactus spines that stung and tore his flesh, and began clearing the moss and lichen away from the neglected monument. Yes, his host was right! right, right, right, indubitably. The first two letters were IO, then a blank where others were obliterated, and then came ANN. That stood clearly for IOHN CANN. And below he could slowly make out the words, "Born at. vey Tra. Devon. " with an illegible date, "Died at P. Royal, May 12, 1669. " Oh, great heavens, yes. John Cann's grave! John Cann's grave! John Cann's grave!

Beyond any shadow or suspicion of mistake, John Cann and his precious secret lay buried below that mouldering tombstone.