"_Lot warter in thole as mus be pumpt out_."
Then came a series of hieroglyphics which puzzled Gwyn; and, after a
long trial, he handed the book to his father, who looked at it for some
time, and then shook his head, as he passed it to the Major.
"I'm not scholar enough for this, Jollivet," he said. "Will you have a
try?"
"No; I haven't brought my glasses. Here, Joe, what does this say?"
Joe, who had been all eagerness to begin, caught at the book, and tried
to decipher the roughly-written words, but got on no better than the
rest.
"Let me try again," cried Gwyn.
"No, no; I haven't done yet," said Joe; "but it looks all rubbish. No
one can make this out."
"Spell it over," said his father, and the boy began.
"H-o-r-s-i-m-s-p-o-o-t-e-t-y-de-b-i-t-h-e-t-o-p-e."
"What does that spell? It's all one word."
"Read it again," said Gwyn, excitedly; and Joe repeated the letters.
"I know. Can't you see?" cried Gwyn, laughing.
Joe shook his head, and the two old officers looked nonplussed.
"What is it, Gwyn?" said his father. "Speak out, if you know."
"Ore seems pretty tidy by the top."
"No; nonsense!" cried the Colonel.
"It is, father," said Gwyn. "You read it over again, Joe."