The two words composing it were carved in larger letters, and stood
by themselves, as if specially important. ‘Capt’ of course meant
_caput_, a head, and might hint at the approaching loss of Norfolk’s
own; but the ‘T . . ck’ puzzled Mr Grope sorely, and was evidently
another cognomen. It puzzled him so much that he resolved to finish the
remainder of the inscription
r . . m 20 Br
first, and see if _it_ threw any light on the subject.
The ‘20’ evidently indicated the day of the month; but to what month
could ‘r . . m’ refer? Could it mean _rosarum mensis_—the month of
roses? Might not a poetical conspirator thus paraphrase the month of
June? Norfolk certainly was not beheaded till June 1572; but it was
possible that a fellow-plotter might have decided on betraying him a
full year before that date. ‘Br’ perhaps stood for _brevi_, by way of
urging that the deed should be accomplished summarily; and 1571 spoke
for itself. The ‘k’ which followed might be either a small or a capital
‘k,’ but Mr Grope concluded that it was the initial of another proper
name; and he had soon persuaded himself that the sentence ‘K .. to ret’
ran: ‘K—— tollite retinete,’ and was intended as an injunction to take
and retain K——. Who or what K—— was did not much signify, since there
was no doubt about Norfolk.
It was the second line which continued to puzzle Mr Grope. He brooded
over it when he went to bed, and could not sleep because of it; but in
the small-hours of the morning, that season of daring inspirations,
it flashed across him that ‘Capt T..ck’ meant neither more nor less
than ‘Caput Turci,’ a Turk’s head. ‘The man may have written _k_ for
_i_ by inadvertence. But why should a Turk’s head be written about in
the cave near Q——?’ It struck Mr Grope that the battle of Lepanto had
been fought in 1571, and that the conspirator might be alluding to
an invasion of England which was to take place, when the Turk’s head
should be figuratively cut off. On the following morning, a Dictionary
of Dates accompanied the ham and toast on Mr Grope’s breakfast-table;
and he ascertained that the battle of Lepanto had been fought in
October, whereas he had decided that the inscription was written in
June, and that it had something to do with English refugees and the
Turkish fleet. This interpretation certainly gave a wider and more
European interest to the writing in the Q—— bone-cave. But on further
consideration, it seemed to Mr Grope that he would hardly be able to
maintain it in printed controversy with the learned. The Turk’s head
was pitchforked with so much abruptness among the directions to secure
Norfolk and K——, that unless it were supposed to be a watchword among
the conspirators, it seemed impossible to dovetail it in.
The antiquary did not go out that morning; he retired to his study
and reflected on the difficulties of the Turk’s head. At last another
light came in upon him, reminding him that there were many inns in the
country with the sign of the Saracen’s Head, relics of the medieval
time when the Saracens were the bugbears of Europe. Very likely there
had been inns called the Turk’s Head in the sixteenth century, when
Europe was always in terror of the Turks, and Mr Grope even fancied
that he remembered seeing one with that sign in a village in the east
of England. Looked at in this new light, the meaning of the inscription
appeared to be: ‘Betray and take Norfolk at the “Turk’s Head” inn, on
the 20th of June 1571, with all possible haste. Take and retain K——.’
Writing this out at full length, Mr Grope read it over with fond pride.
He had thoughts of sending a letter on the subject to that scientific
paper the _Minerva_ at once, but prudence intervened, and he determined
that he would first consult Sir H—— T——, the great archæologist, whom
he had helped to lionise at Q——. It would be as well to say, when he
wrote to the _Minerva_, that his friend Sir H—— T—— agreed with him as
to the solution of the mystery; and he accordingly despatched a full
account of the matter to the great man. That evening Mr Grope dined
out, and could not refrain from imparting his triumph to a select
circle of his acquaintances. Mr Grope was generally admitted to be
the most intellectual resident at Q——. If a strange fish was caught
in the bay, a strange fossil found in a quarry, or a coin dug up in
a field, it was always referred to Mr Grope; and there were only one
or two people who ever presumed to smile at his conclusions. And now
when Mr Grope dilated on the conspirator and the inscription in the
newly-found cavern, addressing in his drawling tones the small audience
in the drawing-room after dinner—for he had kept the sensation for the
benefit of the ladies—no one arose to dispute his explanation. The
conspirator’s mention of the month of roses was especially attractive
and convincing.
But it came to pass that Sir H—— T—— was not quite convinced. That
savant thought it not impossible that the inscription might have
something to do with the Ridolfi Plot, as the date was 1571; but as to
the rest he differed from Mr Grope, courteously but decidedly. He did
not believe in the Latin, and especially in Mr Grope’s Latin. He did
not believe in the poetic paraphrase of June. He had read a good deal
of sixteenth-century correspondence, and had never found a conspirator
or any one else who spoke of June as the month of roses. ‘Nor’ might
stand for Norfolk, though such was not Sir H—— T——’s opinion. Did Mr
Grope think that the inscription was either partly or wholly written in
cipher?
To say that Mr Grope was not disappointed, would not be adhering to
the truth. He had arranged the matter in his mind, and had foreseen
a triumphant career for his inscription among the archæologists and
historians. It seemed impossible that Sir H—— could doubt such
inevitable conclusions. The whole thing, as Mr Grope made it out,
had fitted together like a Chinese puzzle. Yes, he almost resolved
to persevere in his own view. To hold a controversy with Sir H—— T——
might make him nearly as great a man as Sir H—— himself. But he felt
in his heart that no one would side with the Turk’s Head and the month
of roses when Sir H—— was against them. Mr Grope was convinced of the
truth of his own interpretation; but he would collect another possible
meaning or two, and while pronouncing in favour of the first, submit
the others to the learned public. After all, the idea of a cipher
opened out a pleasing vista of conjecture. Much conjecture there must
of course be, when conspirators would write in disjointed fragments. In
the Ridolfi Plot he possessed at least a basis of operations.
It so happened that our antiquarian friend had some acquaintance with
a gentleman who was now searching the archives at Simancas for facts
to confirm a favourite theory, and who had on one occasion dined with
him at Q——; and to him Mr Grope now conceived the happy thought of
writing, with a request that he would send him a few of the ciphers
used by Philip II. and his correspondents. In due time he received
the keys of five or six ciphers, inclosed in a courteous note. The
historian himself had sympathy with Mr Grope’s efforts in the cause of
archæological science, and had besides, a lively recollection of Mr
Grope’s ’47 port.
And now Mr Grope spent a long morning in his study with the ciphers
before him, labouring to make them fit in with the inscription. If
cipher really had been used, it seemed probable that English would have
been used also. On this assumption, therefore, he proceeded; but the
first few keys which he applied unlocked nothing but sheer nonsense.
The next especially attracted Mr Grope, inasmuch as the historian told
him that it had been used by Mary Queen of Scots. He had reserved it
as his last hope; and on further investigation he found that in this
cipher, London was termed Norway, and thus written plainly without
further disguise. With regard to words which were not proper names, the
fifth and sixth letters from the one intended _were used alternately_.
When Mr Grope applied this key to the inscription, he came to the
conclusion that it suited it admirably, with the exception of that
unfortunate second line, which had puzzled him so much before. He
really thought, that as those two words ‘Capt T..ck,’ were written in
larger letters than the others, and conspicuously placed by themselves,
they might be actually put down as a watchword; Why not, after all,
‘Caput Turci?’ The rest of the inscription he transposed as follows:
h..rr yu Lon
w . . . s 20 g w
1571 p yu wky.
The sequence of letters was not kept up in the second ‘yu,’ the fifth
being used where the sixth ought to be; but as the word was apparently
the second person plural, Mr Grope thought it probable that the
conspirator would not be particular in his counting where so small a
word was concerned. It is convenient in such matters to allow for a
little negligence. In its new aspect Mr Grope saw the inscription thus:
hurry you Londonwards
with speed twenty great wagons
1571. pay you weekly.
Mr Grope’s head now absolutely ached with his efforts, and he drew his
hand down his long gray beard with a feeling of relief as he leaned
back in his chair. He nevertheless believed that this last labour
was in a measure thrown away, and that the first solution was the
right one. Still there was an air of probability about that ‘pay you
weekly,’ a matter-of-fact air such as he remembered to have observed
when reading a printed volume of _Domestic State Papers_; and it would
sound well to have tried five ciphers on the inscription and found
a possible solution at last. That same day Mr Grope wrote at length
to the _Minerva_, describing his discovery of the new cavern and the
inscription, and giving his two explanations. For himself, he said,
he believed in the Latin version, though he was aware that he had the
disadvantage of differing from his learned friend Sir H—— T——. In
deference to that gentleman’s opinion, he had compared the writing with
many ciphers in use in the sixteenth century, and now submitted the
result to the attention of the scientific world.
The learned were only too willing to discuss it, and several letters
on the subject appeared in the next number of the _Minerva_. One
gentleman approved the deciphered version; others proposed solutions
of their own, much more absurd than any which Mr Grope had thought of.
Next week a letter from Sir H—— T—— himself was printed, in which he
expressed his opinion in favour of Mr Grope’s second explanation. Mr
Grope and his new cavern had become famous. The intellectual world at
Q—— itself was greatly impressed with the erudition of his researches.
Fashion and science ran into each other a good deal at Q——; and there
were some needlessly pretty toilets among the party of friends whom
Mr Grope conducted to visit the muddy recesses of his new cavern.
There was also a geologist, but he rather despised the inscription as
being too recent, and talked chiefly about eyeless fish. The young
ladies, knowing little of either the Duke of Norfolk or the eyeless
fish, explored the gloomy recesses, and filled them with the sounds of
laughter and fun. Only one young lady observed to her companions: ‘I
shouldn’t wonder if Mr Grope is wrong after all.’
A few days later the antiquary met at an evening party, the son of
an old inhabitant of Q——, who had been dead for some years, but whom
Mr Grope had formerly known. He had known the son too, who was now a
Fellow of his college. He was a little blunt, bullet-headed man, and
when presently the subject of the Q—— bone-cave came up, he said what
he thought without any preface.
‘I fancy, Mr Grope, you’re wrong about that inscription after all. I
suppose you never heard my father speak of old Truck the smuggler?’
‘No; I did not,’ said Mr Grope, concealing his feelings, which were not
of the most comfortable description.
‘Old Truck the smuggling captain,’ continued the little man, ‘used that
cave pretty freely. That was before the geologists had appropriated
it, and the barrier was put up. I should not wonder if he sometimes
wrote hints to his friends on the walls.’
‘But I should not imagine that your father knew any one who lived in
1571,’ said Mr Grope.
‘Ah! but is the 1571 a date at all? That’s the question,’ said the
Fellow. ‘My father took an interest in that old sinner, and saw
something of Truck in his last days in the cottage. The sea has
encroached now and washed most of it away. And Truck left him his
curiosities—stuffed birds and china, and his old order-books and
log-books. I’ll look them out. I would lay a wager that he wrote that
inscription.’
‘It will take very strong evidence to make that believed,’ said Mr
Grope. Nevertheless he felt uneasy, and heartily wished that the
Fellow had not happened to take the matter up. Meanwhile the Fellow
searched for Truck’s relics, which were now in the possession of his
brother; and the next morning saw him in Mr Grope’s study together with
an antique volume, not bound in ‘brass and wild boar’s hide,’ but in
dilapidated leather, with a musty-fusty odour half a century old. With
a sinking heart, Mr Grope felt, when first he looked at it, that the
historical grandeur of his inscription was about to fall to the ground.
‘This was Truck’s note-book,’ said the Fellow. ‘Look here, Mr Grope.’
And there, on the first page, written in a manner which implied that
the paper had been rather greasy from the first, were the words ‘Capt
Truck.’
‘And the cave at Q—— is mentioned pretty often among his
hieroglyphics,’ said the ruthless Fellow, turning over the dirty pages.
‘“Directions to be left in the Q—— cave.” I expect there are others
there besides the inscription you found. Look here; don’t you think
this must be the identical one?’ And he pointed to some lines which
ran obliquely across a page: ‘Directions left for Scroggs. Follow to
Normandy. Rum 20, brandy 15, 71 kegs to return.’
Mr Grope stood stricken to the soul, but not a muscle of his face
moved. He silently compared this newest discovery with the copy he had
made in his note-book, in the first flush of his hopes.
There was no denying that this was the true solution of the mystery,
and that the Ridolfi Plot was nowhere. It was singular that neither
he himself, nor Sir H—— T——, nor the other gentlemen who had written
on the subject, had thought of the possibility of the man in the cave
using straightforward English. At least Mr Grope erred in good company;
but still he felt that he should have to bear most of the ridicule, as
the originator of the historical theory, and the investigator who had
attacked the smuggler’s prosaic inscription with five ciphers used by
queens and princes in the sixteenth century. However, he was determined
not to shew his chagrin, and even asked the Fellow to dine with him
that evening.
Mr Grope wrote honourably to the _Minerva_ to explain the true state of
the case. He acknowledged that further research proved both himself and
his friend Sir H—— T—— to be mistaken on the subject of the writing in
the cave at Q——. Then he mentioned Truck and the smugglers, and gave
the new interpretation, not without a groan as he wrote ‘rum’ where
formerly he had written ‘_rosarum mensis_.’ He also communicated with
Sir H—— on the subject, and Sir H—— dryly replied that he wondered
the writing should look as if it were three hundred years old, when
it was really only sixty or seventy. No more was said about it in the
_Minerva_. And as to the Q—— people, of course they politely refrained
from letting Mr Grope see that they laughed at him, all except a
bluff old personage who exclaimed: ‘So your conspirator against Queen
Elizabeth turned out to be an old smuggler after all!’
The wounds of Mr Grope’s vanity began to heal in time. They smarted
somewhat when the course of winter lectures at the Q—— Athenæum was
opened, for he had intended to hold forth triumphantly on the bone-cave
and the historical inscription. And they bled afresh in the following
spring when the annual fashionable pilgrimage to the cave took place.
Still the high-priest has not deserted the temple, for Mr Grope is not
easily put down; and he often repairs to his old subterranean haunts
and picks up bones and flint implements. But the entrance to the new
cavern containing the inscription has been mysteriously filled up
again; and the gnome who is the nominal custodian of the cave whispers
to a subordinate official of the Q—— Athenæum: ‘’Twas Mr Grope, he
closed it ’imself, I’ll warrant. You see, he couldn’t abide it, after
that there mistake of ’is that they laughed at so. Smugglers ’iding
there; and Mr Grope, he takes the writin’ for summut to do with grand
folks that lived three ’undred year ago!’
Poor Mr Grope! That was all that came of the inscription in the Q——
bone-cave.