Sartines rang a bell for a servant to whom he said:
“Bring me the Chancellor’s cryptographist at once, going through the offices to gain time.”
Two minutes subsequently, a clerk presented himself, with pen in hand, his hat under one arm, and a large book under the other. Seeing him in the mirror, Sartines held out the paper to him over his shoulders, saying:
“Decipher that.”
This unriddler of secret writing was a little thin man, with puckered up lips, brows bent by searching study; his pale face was pointed up and down, and the chin quite sharp, while the deep moony eyes became bright at times.
Sartines called him his Ferret.
Ferret sat down modestly on a stool, drew his knees close together to be a table to write upon, and wrote, consulting his memory and his lexicon with an impassible face. In five minutes time he had written:
“Order to gather 3000 Brothers in Paris.
“Order to compose three circles and six lodges.
“Order to select a guard for the Grand Copt, and to provide four residences for him, one to be in a royal domicile.