The discovery caused me much disappointment, for beyond the assumption
that a certain person whose initials were N.S. had been imprisoned in
the cell, together, perhaps, with a comrade whose initials were S.O.,
who had possibly sketched the obscure hieroglyphics, I was no nearer the
solution of the device than before.
It might have been inscribed a dozen, perhaps a hundred, years ago--
before the seal had become synonymous of death--for aught I knew.
So intent was I in endeavouring to feel other names or devices near this
particular one that I failed to notice the opening of my cell door, and
when I became aware of the lantern-light behind me I turned and saw a
Cossack officer standing upon the threshold.
He stepped forward and was about to enter, but suddenly, as if on second
thought, he drew back and pulled up the broad collar of his riding-coat
about his neck, so as to partially hide his face before entering.
Advancing, and turning the lamplight full upon my face, he gazed into it
fixedly for several seconds, his own countenance being concealed by the
shadow. Then, without speaking, he went across the cell and commenced
examining the wall, apparently to ascertain in what pursuit I was
engaged when he entered.
He cast his eyes along the wall, when he suddenly gave vent to a low
exclamation of profound surprise, not unmingled with horror, and holding
his lantern on a level with the inscription, scrutinised it minutely for
some minutes, at the same time muttering to himself.
From his movements, and the agitation which he strove to suppress, it
was evident he, too, had made a startling discovery; and I stood
wondering what there was about it that interested him so much.
He looked at me several times, and though his face was always in the
shade I could see that in his eyes was a peculiar expression. Twice he
returned and examined the inscription, as if to rivet it upon his memory
and to satisfy himself he was not mistaken; then he turned, and,
addressing me in French, said:
"Prisoner, prepare yourself. We start to-morrow."
"To Siberia?" I asked.
"Yes; make the best of your last night's rest," he replied in a strange
hoarse voice, and went out, leaving me again to my gloomy reflections.
For hours I sat, asking myself what this could mean. The initials, in
conjunction with the seal, served to increase the mystery, and the
agitation of the officer when his gaze fell upon it clearly showed the
grim symbol was repulsive to him, although the cruel light in his eyes
caused me to conjecture that it revealed to him some awful truth that
had hitherto been hidden.
But why need I exercise my mind upon trying to solve this inscrutable
problem, I thought, when on the morrow I should start upon my terrible
journey to the grave?
Ay, what was the use?