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The Mystery of the Sea (A Political Thriller). Брэм Стокер
Читать онлайн.Название The Mystery of the Sea (A Political Thriller)
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9788027245017
Автор произведения Брэм Стокер
Жанр Языкознание
Издательство Bookwire
“I was thinking what it would have been for us that day—only for you.”
“I was glad,” I answered in an equally low voice, “to be able to render any help to—to Mrs. Jack and her friend.”
“Mrs. Jack—and her friend—are very much obliged to you,” she answered gaily in her natural voice and tone. I could see that she had fully regained her courage, as involuntarily she took her hands from the sides of the boat. We kept now well out from the rocks and in deep water, and shortly sighted the Sand Craigs. As we could see Mrs. Jack and her escort trudging leisurely along the sand, and as we did not wish to hurry her, I asked young Hay with my companion’s consent, to keep round the outermost of the Sand Craigs, which was now grey-white with sea-gulls. On our approach the birds all rose and wheeled round with myriad screaming; the wonder and admiration of the girl’s eyes as they eagerly followed the sweep of the cloud of birds was good to see.
We hung around the great pointed rock till we saw Mrs. Jack making her way cautiously along the rocks. We rowed at once to the inner rock and placed the luncheon basket in a safe place. We then prepared a little sheltered nook for Mrs. Jack, with rugs and cushions so that she might be quite at ease. Miss Anita chose the place herself. I am bound to say it was not just as I should have selected; for when she sat down, her back was towards the rock from which she had been rescued. It was doubtless the young girl’s thoughtfulness in keeping her mind away from a place fraught with such unpleasant memories.
When she was safely installed we dismissed the boys till the half tide. Mrs. Jack was somewhat tired with her trudge over the sand, and even when we left her she was nodding her head with coming sleep. Then Miss Anita got out her little easel which I fixed for her as she directed; when her camp stool was rightly placed and her palette prepared I sat down on the rock at her feet and looked at her whilst she began her work. For a little while she painted in silence: then turning to me she said suddenly:
“What about those papers? Have you found anything yet?” It was only then I bethought me of the letter in my pocket. Without a word I took it out and handed it to her. There was a slight blush as well as a smile on her face as she took it. When she saw the date she said impulsively:
“Why did I not get it before?”
“Because I had not got your address, and did not know how to reach you.”
“I see!” she answered abstractedly as she began to read. When she had gone right through it she handed it to me and said:
“Now you read it out loud to me whilst I paint; and let me ask questions so that I may understand.” So I read; and now and again she asked me searching questions. Twice or three times I had to read over the memorandum; but each time she began to understand better and better, and at last said eagerly:
“Have you ever worked out such reductions?”
“Not yet, but I could do so. I have been so busy trying to decipher the secret writing that I have not had time to try any such writing myself.”
“Have you succeeded in any way?”
“No!” I answered. “I am sorry to say that as yet I have nothing definite; though I am bound to say I am satisfied that there is a cipher.”
“Have you tried both the numbers and the dots?”
“Both,” I answered; “but as yet I want a jumping-off place.”
“Do you really think from what you have studied that the cipher is a biliteral one, or on the basis of a biliteral cipher?”
“I do! I can’t say exactly how I came to think so; but I certainly do.”
“Are there combinations of five?”
“Not that I can see.”
“Are there combinations of less than five?”
“There may be. There are certainly.”
“Then why on earth don’t you begin by reducing the biliteral cipher to the lowest dimensions you can manage? You may light on something that way.”
A light began to dawn upon me, and I determined that my task—so soon as my friends had left Cruden—would be to reduce Bacon’s biliteral. It was with genuine admiration for her suggestion that I answered Miss Anita:
“Your woman’s intuition is quicker than my man’s ratiocination. ‘I shall in all my best obey you, Madam!’” She painted away steadily for some time. I was looking at her, covertly but steadily when an odd flash of memory came to me; without thinking I spoke:
“When I first saw you, as you and Mrs. Jack stood on the rock, and away beyond you the rocks were all fringed with foam, your head looked as if it was decked with flowers.” For a moment or two she paused before asking:
“What kind of flowers?”
Once again in our brief acquaintance I stood on guard. There was something in her voice which made me pause. It made my brain whirl, too, but there was a note of warning. At this time, God knows, I did not want any spurring. I was head over heels in love with the girl, and my only fear was lest by precipitancy I should spoil it all. Not for the wide world would I have cancelled the hopes that were dawning in me and filling me with a feverish anxiety. I could not help a sort of satisfied feeling as I answered:
“White flowers!”
“Oh!” she said impulsively, and then with a blush continued, painting hard as she spoke:
“That is what they put on the dead! I see!” This was a counter-stroke with a vengeance. It would not do to let it pass so I added:
“There is another ‘first-column’ function also in which white flowers are used. Besides, they don’t put flowers on the head of corpses.”
“Of whom then?” The note of warning sounded again in the meekness of the voice. But I did not heed it. I did not want to heed it. I answered:
“Of Brides!” She made no reply—in words. She simply raised her eyes and sent one flashing glance through me, and then went on with her work. That glance was to a certain degree encouragement; but it was to a much greater degree dangerous, for it was full of warning. Although my brain was whirling, I kept my head and let her change the conversation with what meekness I could.
We accordingly went back to the cipher. She asked me many questions, and I promised to show her the secret writings when we should go back to the hotel. Here she struck in:
“We have ordered dinner at the hotel; and you are to dine with us.” I tried not to tremble as I answered:
“I shall be delighted.”
“And now,” she said “if we are to have lunch here to-day we had better go and wake Mrs. Jack. See! the tide has been rising all the time we have been talking. It is time to feed the animals.”
Mrs. Jack was surprised when we wakened her; but she too