Alan did not answer the question, but asked another.
“Well, they sung it over a good many times—didn’t you memorize the sounds?”
Desmond thought a minute, “I think I did,” he replied. “It sounded something like:
“Har-Ju-Jar! Har-Ju-Jar! Kar-Tharn.”
“Har-Ju-Jar! Har-Ju-Jar! Kar-Tharn.”
Alan pulled a scrap of paper triumphantly out of his pocket and showed it to his cousin. He had written down the exact phonetic spelling of the words Desmond had said.
“All the same, I don’t see what you are driving at,” he demurred, “you look confoundedly pleased over something.”
“I’ve been working out a theory, and I don’t think I am far wrong in the decision I have arrived at. Now look at that,” and he handed him another piece of paper on which were written the following signs:
Desmond looked at it quizzically for a moment, and then said, “Why, you’ve copied down the signs that are painted all around the walls of the temple—in the great Fire Hall.”