A KEY TO THE MYSTERY
The next few days passed in a fever of impatience for Margaret. Each
afternoon she besieged the twins for news of Corinne and her progress
with the "cipher." And every day their report was about the same:
"She thinks she's on the right track, but she can't tell surely yet.
It's pretty difficult, you know, and Corinne has to study and do other
things, too, besides puzzling over that."
"But has she found out _any_ of the letters?" Margaret would demand.
"She _thinks_ so, but she can't be sure till she's made them _all_
out definitely." And Bess would add, "Now, do be reasonable, Miss
President! Your secretary is doing her very best. But if you don't
think she's a success, you might take the job away from her and give
it to _me_!" At which Margaret would chuckle derisively.
Truth to tell, the twins were almost as anxious as she for a solution
of the mystery. The sudden introduction of this new element into their
hitherto wholly athletic and unimaginative existences, they found, to
their surprise, even more diverting than the most exciting tennis-match
or basket-ball struggle. About a week after Corinne's first visit, all
three burst in breathlessly upon Margaret, one cold afternoon, and
transported her to the seventh heaven of delight with this exciting
news: "Corinne's got it, at last! Haven't you, Corinne!
"Yes," she admitted, giving Margaret a big hug of greeting, "I think
I've puzzled out most of the letters now, and I've even worked out a
few of the first sentences—"
"Yes, and she says they're awfully strange!" interrupted the twins, in
chorus. "And she wouldn't tell us a word, though we begged her hard!"
"Well, Miss President," laughed Corinne, "it seemed to me that this was
a thing to be revealed only in a solemn meeting of the club and in your
presence. Was I right?"
"Indeed you were!" declared Margaret. "Don't you ever tell them a thing
before you've told me, will you?"
"I won't!" promised Corinne. "It shall be the first rule of our
society,—no discoveries told to ordinary members before the president
hears them! And now let's get to business!" They all drew up before the
cozy open fire.
"Oh, isn't this lovely!" sighed Corinne. She opened the old
account-book and placed beside it a paper on which she had written the
letters of the alphabet, and next to each the sign that appeared to
stand for it.
"I had the _worst_ time puzzling this out!" she said. "I worked and
worked over it and changed them all around nearly forty times before
I struck anything that seemed just right. But now I guess we've got
it, at last! I'm sure 'a' is this perpendicular straight line, 'b' the
rectangle with the bottom missing, 'c' the horizontal parallels—and
so on. Now, as I've said, I've made out the first few sentences and
they seem awfully strange! Here they are." She turned the paper over
and read:
"'This is a house of mystery, and strange, unaccountable dread. I
feel daily that something menaces me—that my life is not safe.'" A
delicious shudder ran through the listening group.
"Oh, isn't this _gorgeous_!" half whispered Margaret. "It fills me
with—with thrills!" Corinne went on:
"'Therefore I am keeping this little journal from time to time. Should
aught evil befall me in this strange land and among these unfriendly
people, at least I will leave some record whereby my own kin may trace
my fate, perchance, at some future day. I dare not write this out in
good English lest it be discovered by those who hate me. So I have
invented this secret code, whereof none save myself knows the key. This
book I found in the library unused and I have taken it. I trust it will
be counted no act of thievery. I keep it hidden in the false bottom of
my trunk. The key of the code I have put in another spot. As soon as my
memory has mastered it, I will destroy it. 'Tis safer.'—And that's as
far as I got!" ended Corinne.
For a moment they all sat dumb with amazement.
"What _do_ you make of it?" exclaimed Bess. "Who is it,—a man or a
woman? When was it written, and where? Why, I'm just wild to find out
all about it!"
"I confess," admitted Corinne, "that I don't know _what_ to make of it.
I've puzzled and puzzled over it all day—"
"But, good gracious!" interrupted the impatient Margaret, "of course
we can't make anything out of it till we've worked out some more! Come
ahead! Right now! We're only wasting time talking about it!"
"That's so!" laughed Corinne. "And when we can find out right away, by
getting to work! Here, Margaret! You write, while I spell the thing
out!" She thrust the paper and pencil into Margaret's hands, while the
twins hung over her as she slowly deciphered the sentences:
"'Would—that—I—had—never—left—my—peaceful—Bermuda—'" Corinne
dropped the book suddenly.
"_Bermuda!_—I've been there! Oh, this is fine!"
"Have _you_ been to Bermuda?" exclaimed Margaret and the twins, with
awe. "When?"
"Last winter, with Father. He was ill, and we stayed six weeks. It was
heavenly!"
"You lucky girl!" sighed Margaret. "But, go on! We must find out more,
right away!"
Corinne took up the book and began anew: "'But since I did wilfully
abandon my home—aye!—and Grandfather, too, even though he does not
love me—'"
"'Grandfather'?" interrupted Bess. "He can't be very old, if he has a
grandfather living!"
"Doesn't seem likely," murmured Corinne, spelling out another word
under her breath, then continuing:
"'—and did in venturesome manner contribute my aid to the plot
against my country, I must pay the price, I fear. I am watched
constantly. I take no walk abroad, even in the grounds, but I feel that
I am spied upon. The affection of Madame M. has changed to dislike.
She, too, suspects me. 'Tis hard for a lass of but sixteen—'"
"_A lass!_" shouted all four. "And only _sixteen_!"
"Oh, girls!" cried Corinne, rocking back and forth in her excitement.
"She's just like ourselves—only a year older than I am! What _can_ be
the trouble—or rather, what _could_ have been the trouble with the
poor little thing?"
"Go on! go on!" ordered Margaret, with glistening eyes. "Let's find out!"
Corinne snatched up the book again: "'to be alone and friendless in
a strange land and to feel so constantly in danger. But I must not
complain. I brought it on myself. As I have said, Madame M. no longer
appears to care for me. She was so cordial and affectionate at first,
partly for Aunt's sake, no doubt, and partly because she really seemed
to like me. But since the day when I spoke to Lady ——, at the time
her coach broke down, Madame M. has regarded me only with suspicion.'"
"I wish I knew who 'Madame M.' was, and 'Lady Blank,'" put in Margaret.
"How mysterious she is—never writing out their full names!"
"Perhaps she didn't dare," said Corinne. "You see, she says she's in
danger. But, oh!—listen to what she says next!—'There is something
which weighs right heavily on my conscience. 'Tis the matter of the
sapphire signet. But of that I will speak later.'"
"_The sapphire signet!_" breathed the twins in a tone of hushed awe.
"Doesn't it sound rich and gorgeous and—and _mysterious_! What's a
'signet,' anyway?"
"I think," explained Corinne, "that it's another name for a
seal—something with a monogram or crest or coat-of-arms, used to
stamp on sealing-wax. Father has one set in a ring—not a sapphire
though—just some ordinary stone with his monogram on. He never uses
it, but he told me once that in former times they were used a great
deal when letters were only sealed with wax. Oh! _what_ do you suppose
this matter of the sapphire signet is all about! Isn't it wildly
exciting? But, goodness!" glancing at her watch, "it's awfully late
again, and I must get home. The time goes so fast, and it takes so long
to puzzle all this out!"
"I have an idea!" began Margaret, hesitatingly. "Suppose _I_ do the
puzzling out and write it down, now that Corinne has discovered the
way. I have so much time that I don't know what to do with, and this
would be so interesting! Then, when we meet again in a couple of days,
I could read it right off to you without any trouble. We could get on
so much faster!"
"I think that's splendid!" agreed Corinne. "And much as I'm crazy to
find out right away what happens, I'd rather wait and hear a lot of it
read at once. Wouldn't you all?"
"Yes, that's a good scheme," admitted Bess, "except for one thing. How
about Sarah? You'd have a hard time hiding this from her, Margaret, and
you know she simply mustn't find out!" For a moment they all looked
"stumped." The obstacle seemed almost insuperable, when Jess had a
brilliant idea.
"Tell you what! We'll hide the thing in the bookcase, way back here
behind these old encyclopedias,—the account-book, the paper, and a
brand-new fat blank-book that I'll give you to do all the copying in.
You can tell Sarah to wheel you over to the bookcase because you want
to read. Then, when she's out of the way, you can work to your heart's
content. But do hide everything whenever you hear her coming!"
"Oh, good! Just the thing! Sarah'll never suspect in the world!"
laughed Margaret. "And there's no difficulty about hearing her
coming—she weighs two hundred and fifty pounds!"
"Well, that's settled then," said Corinne, "and I'll have to go. But
I'm coming day after to-morrow, if I can manage to wait. It's better
than the loveliest book I ever read! Good-by!"
When she had gone, the three sisters sat and looked at one another with
an expression of sheer wonder on their faces. In one week, through the
agency of this same "queer," quiet girl, their absolutely uninteresting
and commonplace lives had been transformed into an unbelievable round
of mystery and discovery and romance. And the strange part of it was
that this same mystery had been lying here—right under their noses, so
to speak—all these years, and they had never even suspected it, while
she had been in the house scarcely half an hour and had run it straight
to earth! Some such thought was in Margaret's mind when she presently
exclaimed:
"Isn't she just _wonderful_! I think she's the most interesting person
I ever met in my life!"
"So do I!" echoed Jess.
"Oh, I shall just dream of this all night!" whispered Margaret. "It's
the most thrilling thing I ever heard of—this puzzle-story—and the
best of it is, it's all our own. We discovered it! To-morrow you may
envy me, girls, for I'll be finding out—all about the sapphire signet,
_and_ what happened next!"