THE DISCOVERY OF THE CRYPTOGRAM.
While Detective Lambert was making these entries, events of which he
had no suspicion were progressing in another quarter. Some premonition
of startling incidents soon to happen must have been very strong
within him, or he would not have been out of bed a couple of hours
after midnight, prowling, in a safe disguise, in the vicinity of
Catchpole Square and Shore Street. Constable Applebee came across him
twice without recognising him, although Lambert gave him every
opportunity, asking him on both occasions the way to Holborn. Lambert
apparently was the worse for drink, and Applebee would probably have
had more to say to him, and might indeed have "run him in" as a
suspicious character had it not been for the interest he took in the
immediate neighbourhood of Samuel Boyd's house, to which particular
spot he devoted more attention than was consistent with his duties on
the space of ground covered by his beat. The second time Lambert asked
him the way to Holborn, the constable proffered a sensible piece of
advice, to the effect that the man would be better in bed, to which he
was advised to go if he did not wish to get into trouble. "Is that
your advice?" asked Lambert, with a tipsy lurch. "Yes, it is," replied
Applebee, "and if you're not a born fool you'll take it." "I'd have
you know," retorted Lambert, "that I'm a respectable mechanic, and my
advice to you is not to be so cocky. I'd make as good a bobby as you
any day in the week." This angered Applebee, but did not move him to
retaliatory action, and Lambert walked off, laughing in his sleeve.
His light mood did not last long. Dark clouds were coming into the
sky; a few drops of rain fell. There was a flash of lightning and a
clap of thunder. "We shall have a storm," he muttered.
At that very moment Dr. Vinsen and Dr. Pye were closeted together, and
events were approaching a climax. On the afternoon of that day Dr. Pye
had received a note from his friend, announcing that he intended to
pay him a visit at midnight. It was a strange hour to choose for a
friendly call, and Dr. Pye was not pleased, but these men were in a
certain sense dependent upon each other, and neither could just now
afford to open up a quarrel; therefore, when Dr. Vinsen's summons at
the street door was heard by Dr. Pye he went down himself and admitted
his visitor. The interview was held at the back of the house, in the
room with shuttered windows, from which a view of Samuel Boyd's house
could be obtained.
"It is a dangerous time for a visit," were Dr. Pye's first words.
"By daylight," said Dr. Vinsen, "the danger would be greater. I took
care to see, before I knocked, that there was no person in the street.
Besides, I trust you as little as you trust me."
"You have a reason for the remark," observed Dr. Pye.
"I have, or I should not have made it. But let us be amicable--be
a-mi-ca-ble. I am willing to converse in a spirit of confidence. You
have wounded me by your suspicions, and you have a design which you
are hiding from me--from me, your best friend. Has your spectre
appeared again?"
"An hour ago I saw it at the window."
Dr. Vinsen looked at his host incredulously. Dr. Pye placed a portrait
before him.
"I took this negative last night; I developed it this morning. Do you
recognise it?"
Dr. Vinsen's face grew pale as he gazed at the portrait of Samuel
Boyd.
"Are you mad?" he asked, "or am I?"
"Do not be alarmed," said Dr. Pye, calmly; "the man is not there. It
is the picture of a vision, and is one step farther in our knowledge
of the power of the human will. When I received your letter this
afternoon I determined that I would search the house to-night in your
company; or, if you prefer it, I will search alone."
"No; it shall be in my company. I am not afraid of ghosts."
Dr. Pye smiled scornfully.
"You turned white at the sight of the picture."
"A momentary discomposure, nothing more. I do not deny that I have not
your iron nerve. I am very human, my friend;--ve-ry hu-man."
"Drop the mask," said Dr. Pye, sternly. "I am sick of your whining.
Will you have some wine?"
"Something stronger than wine."
"To fortify yourself for a meeting with our spectre?" Dr. Pye laughed
in derision, and produced a decanter of brandy, to which his visitor
helped himself liberally. From the bottom of a cupboard he took a
cobwebbed bottle of wine, which he handled and opened very carefully.
He smiled as he held the glass up to the light, and then drank it
slowly, as if it were really the elixir of life which popular rumour
credited him with searching for. "I would give much," he said, "for
that store of old wine which Samuel Boyd left behind him. Had it not
been for you I would have had every bottle in this house."
"And so risked discovery," said Dr. Vinsen. "As it was you courted
danger by taking two bottles to gratify your insane tastes."
"I have courted greater dangers and escaped them. You are too
cautious, my friend. All my life I have found safety in boldness. You
accuse me of withholding from your knowledge a design which I have in
view. What design?"
"In good time, my very dear friend. There are other matters first.
Before we go into them, a question. Does your patient remain in the
same state?"
"There is no change in him."
"He will disclose nothing?"
"His mind is a blank."
"That is the result of your fine plan," said Dr. Vinsen, with a sneer.
"Perhaps you will acknowledge that my plan was the best--to silence
him and leave him in the cellar."
"I acknowledge nothing. The reasonable presumption was that he could
have given us a clue. Time enough then to have silenced him. As it
happens he has failed to be of service to us."
"How will you dispose of him now without drawing suspicion upon you?"
"Upon us, you mean." Dr. Vinsen shifted uneasily upon his seat. "I
will find a way, and you shall share the risk." He smiled as he added,
"I will insure your safety for a small premium, so we will not waste
time in recrimination. Come to the 'other matters' you have referred
to, and of which I am as yet in ignorance."
"Not quite in ignorance, my friend. Surely I have prepared you, surely
I have been patient. I decline to be placed in a false light." He took
out a pocketbook and laid it on the table, guarding it with his hand.
"I have a conscience; I must justify myself even in your eyes."
"Is it worth while to make the attempt?"
"I think so; I really think so. I must lay my head upon my pillow with
my mind at ease--my mind at ease. You, with your lofty notions and
your wild search for the unattainable, you with your spectres and
visions, know little of the sufferings of a sensitive spirit such as
mine."
"Faugh! Is _this_ worth while?"
"You have your ways, I have mine," said Dr. Vinsen, with a sly smile.
"I must trouble you to listen while I go over the ground."
"So be it. And if my suspicions are correct--and they generally are--I
may trouble _you_ to listen while _I_ go over the ground."
"It will be a pleasure. I think it is three years since you and I
became acquainted. Correct me if I am wrong."
"It is immaterial. Say three years--or thirty."
"No, my friend; let us be exact. This is an affair of figures. It is
three years since you wrote to me in acknowledgment of a circular you
received from me. I had money to lend, you required a loan. I advanced
you five hundred pounds."
"Four."
"Five, my friend, five. The odd hundred was deducted as payment of
interest in advance."
"Part payment."
"You have an excellent memory. I need not go into the details. In the
course of a few months you required more money and I advanced it to
you."
"Spare me the details of each transaction. Come to the point."
"I will. Up to the present day you have had from me, in various sums,
at various times, a total of three thousand pounds----"
"In actual money, not half that."
"Which, with interest added," continued Dr. Vinsen, alias Ezra Lynn,
not troubling himself to argue the point, "amounts now to a trifle
over five thousand pounds. Will you oblige me by looking over these
figures and verifying them?"
"No, I will take your word that they are correct, according to your
reckoning."
"I thank you for your confidence," said Dr. Vinsen, who did not,
however, seem to appreciate this indifference. "It is not to be
supposed that I advanced my hard-earned capital without some sort of
security. You gave it to me in the shape of a bill of sale over these
art treasures of yours, for which you have an absurd passion, and
which I do not deny have a marketable value, and over every piece of
portable property in this house. From time to time I have urged you to
discharge the debt, wholly or in part, and my appeals have been
disregarded. My dear friend, there is a time when one's patience
becomes exhausted. Need I say more?"
"Yes. You are only in the middle of the chapter. Samuel Boyd has to be
introduced. Proceed."
"At your wish," said Dr. Vinsen, with evident reluctance. "Some six
weeks ago, when I was pressing you for repayment, you made mention to
me----"
"Stop. When you were pressing me for repayment and threatening to sell
me up--you left out the latter clause."
"You made mention to me of a plan, which would not only enable you to
repay me what you owed me, but would result to our mutual advantage.
You had, you said, secret access to the house of Samuel Boyd, who was
in the habit of keeping there considerable sums of money, of which it
would be easy to obtain possession. Without risk, without danger. You
laid particular stress upon that."
"I did," said Dr. Pye, and the inscrutable smile which accompanied the
words did not add to his confederate's composure.
"You needed a partner in the execution of your plan, a sleeping
partner, you said, who would have nothing to do but to assist in
removing the cash and valuables from his house to this, for which
assistance he was to receive half the proceeds."
"Say spoil."
"The proceeds. I objected, not being willing to be a party to an act
of personal violence. I am a peaceable man, and have made my money by
peaceable means."
"By peaceable fraud."
"Why use harsh terms? All my transactions are legal, and protected by
the law. In reply to my objection to a deed of violence you told me
that you could in a moment render a sleeping man so utterly insensible
and oblivious to all that was passing around him as to utterly remove
every possible chance of risk. We were to enter the house when Samuel
Boyd was asleep; you were to go into his chamber and render him
insensible and unconscious."
"While you remained outside," said Dr. Pye, still with the inscrutable
smile on his lips, "in happy ignorance of the sleeping man's fate."
"I object to these interruptions," said Dr. Vinsen, sulkily. "Finish
the story your own way."
"I will. I informed you that Samuel Boyd, for an unknown purpose of
his own, had been for some weeks past withdrawing large sums of money
from the bank, and had been selling securities, and that I expected he
would have in his safe on the night of March the 1st several thousand
pounds, of which I offered you half for the tame part you were to play
in the robbery. Your cupidity was aroused; you could not resist the
bait, and you consented to become my partner in the crime. You do not
like the terms I use; they are the correct terms. I am no canting
psalm-singer; when I commit a crime I accept the responsibility; I do
not shirk and whine; and as for the penalty, trust me for evading it.
It was arranged that out of my share of the spoil I was to pay you
what I owed you, so that you had a double interest in the success of
the plan. The night arrived, and you were here, jubilant, expectant,
greedy for the gold, but yet with a craven cowardice for which I
despised you. However, you screwed your courage to the sticking point,
and when all the lights in Samuel Boyd's house were extinguished I
showed you how I obtained access to the premises. We entered in
silence, and undetected; we made our way up the stairs and entered the
office which contained the safe. You shook like an aspen, and I left
you in the office and went alone into the bedroom, carrying a light.
At that very moment Samuel Boyd awoke and started up in bed before I
had time to press upon his face the handkerchief which I had prepared
to render him unconscious. He sprang from the bed, and the
handkerchief fell from my hand. One cry escaped his lips--only one,
for my hand was on his throat. But he was strong, a more powerful man
than I had conceived him to be, and he struggled with me so
determinedly that we stumbled together into the office, where you
stood, white-faced and trembling. By some means he got hold of a
pistol, and fired two shots. One bullet went into the wall, where it
was found by our good friend Remington, evidence of which was given by
him and Lambert the detective at the inquest. Where the other bullet
went has not yet been discovered. I thought I was struck, and for a
moment my hold on Samuel Boyd relaxed. His eyes fell upon you, and
your name escaped his lips, which was the first intimation I received
that you had had transactions with him. That roused you to action, for
you knew that if he were left alive you were doomed. You sprang upon
him, and bore him to the ground. Then it was two to one. Our hands
were at his throat. Whose fingers gave him the _coup de grace?_"
"Yours," said Dr. Vinsen, in a hoarse whisper.
"Yours," said Dr. Pye, calmly, "as I am ready to testify on my oath.
However it was, there lay Samuel Boyd, dead before our eyes. We came
to commit a robbery; we had committed murder. As we stood gazing upon
the dead body we heard a knock at the street door, and I thought you
would have fainted, you were so terror struck. In a whisper you
suggested flight; had your advice been followed we were lost, for
there was no time to mask the means by which we had obtained access to
the house. The knocking continued, and it was then that the
opportunity was afforded me of displaying one of my talents. As a
mimicker of voices I am unrivalled, and you are aware of my skill in
another histrionic achievement. It was imperative that the summons
should be answered, or the neighbourhood might have been aroused. I
seized your hand, my dear accomplice in crime, and we descended to the
street door. Mimicking Samuel Boyd's voice I inquired who was there.
The reply was, 'It is I, sir, Abel Death. For God's sake let me speak
to you!' Fearing the result if the demand was not complied with I drew
the bolt and the chain, and dragged the man in; and as he entered you
struck him with such force that he fell to the ground senseless. I
have never inquired why you struck him."
"It was an impulse of passion," said Dr. Vinsen, in a faltering voice.
"Foist those subterfuges upon weaker men. I did not inquire because I
knew. You held the candle above your head, and Abel Death saw your
face, as the man we had murdered had done, and recognised you, as he
had done. Why do you wince? We did murder him, comrade in crime, and
are both liable to the law for the deed." Quietly as he spoke he
seemed to take delight in associating Dr. Vinsen with himself in the
ruthless work. "Your thought, when you struck Abel Death down, was
that if he were allowed to go free he would be able to give evidence
against you."
"And against you."
"Thanks for your consideration of me, but I can see to my own safety
without aid from such as you. When yours is imperilled there is
something of the savage in you; I give you credit for so much
manliness. You would have killed him where he lay."
"Had you made an end of him," said Dr. Vinsen, morosely----
"Or had you done it," interrupted Dr. Pye. "Why give me all the honour
of the task we were engaged upon?"
"His tongue would have been silenced for ever," concluded Dr. Vinsen,
"and we should have been safe."
"I am not so sure of that. Anyway I deemed it prudent that he should
live till we had made search for Samuel Boyd's treasure. If that
search had been successful I might have handed the poor clerk over to
your tender mercy. But it was not successful. In the safe we found a
paltry two hundred pounds, and bills, and documents, and books of
accounts. The books were valuable to us, for if they had fallen into
other hands, it would have been seen that we were both indebted to the
man we killed. Among the bills were many of mine, and some of yours.
It was not till then that I learned you owed him money; and your
motive for joining me in the robbery was partly explained. The books
and bills destroyed, and the man dead, your indebtedness to him was
cancelled. You are a cunning dog, Ezra Lynn. There were also Lord
Wharton's bills, which, I fear, are valueless to us."
"You have not kept them!" cried Dr. Vinsen.
"I have, and every document we took away."
"But they implicate _me!_"
"It is perhaps for that reason I have not destroyed them," said Dr.
Pye, coolly. "We sink or swim together, Ezra Lynn, so long as we
remain in England. Among the documents was the list of Lady Wharton's
jewels, and a statement of how Samuel Boyd became possessed of them,
with other statements which informed us that he was expected to
present himself at Bournemouth on the following Wednesday, with the
fifteen hundred pounds he had arranged to advance to her. But where
were the jewels? We hunted for them in vain, and to this hour have
been unable to lay hands upon them, although we know they must be
there."
"They may not be. The burglar who broke into the house on the night
you went to Bournemouth may have found them."
"No. What we could not find he did not find. On the night I went to
Bournemouth!" said Dr. Pye, and for the first time a laugh escaped
him. "Tell me another man who could have so successfully imposed upon
her ladyship, who would have had the audacity to carry out a deception
so hazardous? Do you not feel proud in having a partner so bold and
daring? Judge by that of what I am capable, and whether I am fitted to
hold command. After what I have seen these five nights past, the image
of Samuel Boyd, who lies dead in his grave, would any other man have
the hardihood to enter that house? I am a stranger to fear, Ezra Lynn.
When our conversation is ended we make search for the lost jewels; it
may be the last chance we shall have. To finish the story of that
Friday night before you disclose what is in your mind. I made Abel
Death secure by plunging him into a state of insensibility from which
it was impossible for him to recover till late the following day, and
then we removed the books and papers, leaving behind us one document
which fixed the guilt of the murder upon Mr. Reginald Boyd."
"How is it," asked Dr. Vinsen, "that that accusation has not been
produced?"
"There are more ways than one of accounting for it. The man who made
the burglarious entrance into the house may have seized the papers we
left upon the table, in the expectation that he could turn them to
profit, to discover later that to produce them would be putting
himself into the criminal dock; or it may be that Mr. Richard
Remington appropriated the document and destroyed it, out of regard
for Inspector Robson's family, and probably also because he believes
in Mr. Reginald Boyd's innocence. Hark! Do you hear the thunder? A
storm is approaching. All the better for our purpose. It is two
o'clock, and we have little time to waste. I will make short work of
the conclusion of that night's proceedings. At your suggestion we
placed the body of Samuel Boyd comfortably in its bed, and cleared
away all traces of the struggle. Your argument was that, as it would
become known that Mr. Reginald Boyd visited his father that night, it
would be supposed he had adopted the expedient to make it appear that
the murdered man died a natural death, and so avert suspicion from
himself. It was a lame argument, for the marks of our fingers were on
his throat, but I humoured you, as we humour a child who asks a
harmless question. The last thing we did was to carry Abel Death from
the house. Some days afterwards we learned that Mr. Richard Remington
was taking an active interest in the disappearance of the clerk, and
for the purpose of ascertaining to what extent he was in communication
with Mrs. Death you introduced yourself to her under the false name,
by which you are known to her and to him. I raised no objection to the
plan; the risk was yours, and I was willing that you should run it.
You used my name without my authority, and I understand why you did
so. It was to make me a partner in the risk, was it not?"
"Yes," replied Dr. Vinsen, sullenly.
"An honest confession. You feared that I should shirk the consequences
of our crime--let us call it by its usual name--to which you attach so
much importance. You are mistaken; I am ready to meet them, always,
always ready. I have overcome greater dangers, have steered my way
safely over rocks and quicksands far more perilous. Shall I
recapitulate the particulars of a later incident in this affair? That
it chanced that one of the men summoned on the jury was a person who
owed you money which he could not pay; that you held him so completely
in your power that you could bring worldly ruin upon him; that you
entered into a conspiracy with him to use his influence with his
brother jurymen in order that a verdict of wilful murder against
Reginald Boyd should be returned; that you----"
"Enough of that," interposed Dr. Vinsen. "Surely it is not necessary
to go into these details."
"A statement of them refreshes the memory; it is important not to lose
sight of the smallest incident in this complex matter--but as you
will. And now, my worthy partner, before we proceed to the house that
faces this window, explain what you mean by saying that your patience
is exhausted, and by your threat with reference to the art treasures I
have gathered, which I value as I value my life?"
"You have had a large sum of money from me," said Dr. Vinsen,
doggedly. "I claim my own. The debt must be discharged."
"And if payment is impossible just now?"
"I cannot wait any longer."
"Shall we say you will not?"
"You goad me to it. I will not."
"But it happens that you must wait my pleasure--aye, _must!_ Ezra
Lynn, you little know the man upon whose fate yours depends, and who
would have no more compunction in striking you dead where you
sit than in plucking the leaves from a rose. You would rob me of my
treasures--the treasures I have purchased with blood. Not while I
live--not while I live. Here is beauty that I can worship, the work of
the great masters of the past, exquisite colour and perfect form, in
the production of which genius toiled with a divine end in view. If my
history ever becomes known the world will read the story of a man who
greatly dared, of one who loved beauty in its every shape and form, of
one who, unblessed with wealth, stopped at no crime to gain it, in
order to follow his star, and who, when all was lost--if such a fate
befall him--defied his enemies and defeated them in the moment of
their victory. You start at the word crime. It is a common word, and I
use it in the common sense, but not in the sense in which _I_ view it.
All things are justified to men who dare as I have dared. What is the
sacrifice of a human life in the endeavour to wrest nature's sublime
secrets from her breast? Man wars with man, and strews the battlefield
with the slain. Is that called a crime? We glorify it, we sing hymns
to it, the church cries 'Hosanna!' and its priests praise the Lord of
Hosts who crowned our banners with victory. If victory crown mine--and
it may yet, in the teeth of all obstacles--so shall I be praised and
glorified. Crime! There is no such word to the victor. I laugh at the
law that would make a criminal of a hero. Not for the first time shall
I have successfully defied it."
He paused, and smiled scornfully as a flash of lightning pierced a
chink in the window, which he instantly unshuttered.
"We may be seen!" cried Dr. Vinsen, catching his arm.
He took no heed of the warning, but stood at the window, and smiled
again at the peal of thunder at the lightning's heels. Whether the
words he had uttered were or were not the ravings of a madman, it was
clear that he was terribly in earnest.
"It is but a commencement of the storm," he said presently, in a
calmer tone, turning from the window. "There is still something
further to explain. You accused me of concealing a design from you."
Dr. Vinsen fortified himself with brandy before replying. His nerves
were shaken, and the liquor gave him courage.
"Why have you had two travelling trunks made, and inscribed with the
name of Corsi?"
"Ah, you have discovered that. It is the name I shall assume when I
leave these shores for another country. The trunks, as you have
doubtless observed, are specially constructed for the safe transport
of works of art."
"I forbid you to remove them," cried Dr. Vinsen. "They no longer
belong to you."
"How so?"
"How so?" echoed Dr. Vinsen. "You will not deny your signature?"
"No, I will not deny it."
"By this document," said Dr. Vinsen, taking a paper from his
pocket-book, "which I had duly stamped on the day you signed it, they
became my property if, in six months from that date, you had not
discharged your debt to me. The six months expired to-day."
"Pause a moment before you open it. When did you read it last?"
"Yesterday, and put it in my pocket-book to bring here to-night."
"If my memory does not play me false, the date was the 18th of
September, 1897. I did not approve of the document you asked me to
sign, and you wrote another at this table, worded somewhat
differently. One hundred and eighty-three days have elapsed since
then. I am curious to see if I timed it correctly. Open the paper."
Dr. Vinsen unfolded it, and started in amazement. The paper was blank,
nothing appearing on it but the red Government stamp.
"It was a vulgar trick," said Dr. Pye. "You wrote and I signed, not in
ink which gradually fades, but which suddenly disappears at an
appointed hour. Content yourself, my worthy friend, and thank me for
saving you from a danger which would have sent you to the hulks. Had
you attempted to dispose of these gems to a dealer in any European
city you would have been immediately arrested. They have been bought
with blood, and there is not a police court that has not a list of
them. Priceless treasures! Here are vases, medallions, and bronzes of
Benvenuto Cellini, for which collectors would give thousands of
guineas, and every one known throughout the civilised world. That
wondrous artificer saw visions, as I do, and his progress was marked
with blood, as mine has been. Content yourself, I say; when I make my
fortune you shall be paid, and if we discover the jewels to-night you
shall have the lion's share. Now, follow me, if you have the courage."
* * * * *
Noiseless footsteps on the dark stairs, noiseless footsteps in the
passages--the footsteps of men in their stocking feet. They reach the
landing on which Samuel Boyd's bedroom and office are situated.
The storm rages without, tearing through the Square with fierce,
shrieking moans and cries, like a forest of wild beasts in pain. There
is a leak in the roof of the house, and the men within it, when there
is a lull, hear the raindrops falling, pat, pat, pat. One of the men
shudders at a terrifying thought, born of the memory of a night when a
murder was committed there. If a human being were on the roof, stabbed
to the heart, so might _his_ life's blood drip through the aperture.
In the terrified man's fancy he sees the red stains on the floor, sees
them spread through the air, though nothing is visible in his actual
sight. A muffled cry escapes him.
"Hush!" From the other man. "Do not raise your voice above a whisper."
"Why not?" From the trembling man. "There is no one here but
ourselves."
"Fool! The house may be watched. Why do you shrink from me? Are you
afraid?"
"No." But the speaker's lips and face are white. "Can we not have a
light?"
"Not here. I have matches and a candle with me. There is a screen in
the office--here is the door--step in, softly, softly! Now, help me
move the screen before the window. Come, ghost, spectre, or vision,
show yourself!"
"For God's sake, stop!"
"Coward! Ah, that lightning flash! And now the thunder! Listen to the
rain. It is a deluge."
They stoop and light the candle, crouching by the writing-table.
"Keep the light near the ground. The window is masked, but if the
candle is raised its glimmer might be seen from the Square. Move this
way. Nearer to this dumb image of wax in its hooded chair. It would be
a rare achievement to breathe life into it, to compel it to speak, and
reveal where the treasure we seek is hidden."
So low are their voices that it would be impossible for any person
acquainted with the speakers to recognise them by that sound. They are
standing at the back of the hooded chair, and the waxwork figure of
the Chinaman, with its fixed and pallid face, stares straight at
vacancy.
"Speak!" whispers the bolder of the two, in savage derision, and
shakes the chair--so violently that the Charles the Second cane it
holds in its hand slips and falls to the ground.
"I recall a story," he continues, picking up the stick, and still in a
whispered voice, "of a treasure of great value being concealed for
generations in a cane like this. If this were hollow it could be used
for just such a purpose. What are these protuberances round the rim?
Hold the light closer, closer! A circlet of old English letters."
By accident he presses one of the letters, and as he does so is
conscious of a movement in the silver knob at the top of the cane.
Bending over it he sees that the letter he pressed is B, and that the
pressure has caused the figure 2 to spring up on the surface of the
knob.
"B, the second letter in the alphabet, stands for 2," he whispers
excitedly. "The last words written by Samuel Boyd on the memorandum
which would send his son to the gallows if it were found, were
'Notation 2647.' The sixth letter in the alphabet is F." He presses
the letter, and the figure 6 appears on the knob. "Ha, ha! The fourth
letter, D." He presses that, and the figure 4 appears, the figures now
ranging 264. "The seventh letter, G. The notation is complete--2647!"
Such perfect control did the speaker have over himself that even in
that moment of excitement his voice does not rise above a whisper.
Both men are now in a standing posture, the discoverer of the simple
cryptogram holding the cane.
"Now for the test," he says, and with the ball of his broad thumb he
presses hard upon the four figures. A click is heard. The silver knob
springs up.
"The jewels!" he whispers, exultantly. "They are here--they are here!
See!"
In the utterance of the word a vivid flash of lightning illumines the
room, and one man utters a startled exclamation, the other a frenzied
shriek, for in that momentary flash they see the figure of the
Chinaman rise suddenly from its chair. The candle is dashed to the
ground, enveloping them in black darkness, and the cane, with its
concealed treasure, is plucked from the hand that held it!