Part 39 (1/2)

In the afternoon Genevieve and I repaired to the old Page place. She was so confident that she could find the originals of the designs on the cipher, that I was anxious to give her the chance. Besides, she was afraid to go alone, and I simply had to accompany her. Belle could not without Maillot tagging along, and--well, we didn't want anybody else.

First of all, Genevieve had to be shown the dent made by the candlestick in the railing of the bal.u.s.trade. She placed the tip of one little finger in the depression, and drew back with a shudder.

”Let's go,” she said, in a hushed voice. ”I never expect to come up these stairs again. Let's find the daisies, and go.”

She understood as well as I did that Felix Page must have subst.i.tuted the stones somewhere between the library table and the hidden safe in his bedroom. She proposed to start at the table and examine every object, if necessary, between the two points mentioned.

Our progress was slow until we reached the bedroom. Genevieve drew to an abrupt halt on the threshold.

”There was a table there, by the head of the bed,” she said; ”where is it?”

”Lying on its side in that corner”--I pointed. ”It was hurled there last Friday night, when the dwarf surprised Burke here.”

She went over to it, while I raised the blinds. Instantly she recoiled with a cry, and then in a flash was fairly wild with excitement.

”Knowles, Knowles!” she screamed. ”Here they are!”

And sure enough, there they were--the bra.s.s tacks with which the artificial leather cover had been fastened on. Their heads were ornamental, with just such crenellated edges as might have prompted the circular figures at each end of the cipher.

I stared at them in stupefied silence. The row of gleaming tacks staggered me. How many times had I lingered by that very table while I racked my brain to remember where I had seen the peculiar figure! Why, once I even had paused and drawn the design in the dust on the leather cover! What a dunce--how blind I had been!

The cipher was not difficult to read now. At once I recalled Burke's shadow on the blind; he had been bending over this table, and the agile movements of his hands were no longer mysterious. He, too, had some knowledge of the cipher, and he had been rapidly running over the tack-heads, hunting for the combination that would reveal a concealed compartment.

After a while we grew rational again. I got out the cipher, and once more Genevieve and I put our heads together over it. Here it is; you may follow us while we dig it out:

[Ill.u.s.tration: Cipher]

”If you remember,” I said presently, ”I told you that very likely it would have to be interpreted in connection with something not on the paper. Count the tacks along the front edge.”

There were nineteen of them.

”Counting from either end,” I went on, ”the centre tack will be ten.

It 's as simple as A-B-C. That's our starting-point from which to find the others. Find the fourth one to the right of the centre tack--number ten.”

She placed the tip of one forefinger upon it--a bit gingerly, I smiled to see.

”Why, it gives!” she announced in surprise.

”I 'd be terribly cut up if it did n't,” said I. ”Now, then, the eleventh to the right.”

This carried her to the third one around the side; number thirteen was the fifth on the left side, number seventeen the ninth on the right side, while number five was on the front edge, of course, close to the centre. Each of them yielded a trifle beneath her pressure--until she came to number five. Here she drew back and clasped her hands tightly together.

”Oh, I can't!” she cried excitedly. ”I'm just so nervous that I can't put my finger upon it. You do it.”

”Nonsense!” said I. ”If you don't find the ruby, it will never be found. That's the last one.”

At last, with s.h.i.+ning eyes and parted lips, the little finger went slowly down upon the fateful tack-head. She screwed up her eyes and closed her lips tightly, as if she feared something would explode, then pushed with all her might. The tack gave; but nothing else happened.

We stared at the table, our faces long with disappointment; then we looked at each other in unspoken questioning. Genevieve's expression was so woe-begone that I laughed. The nerve-racking suspense was broken.