"There," he said, when the task was finished. "Looks a deal prettier than the original, don't it?"
In big boyish capitals Jack saw the following puzzling sentence:—
S E O S F L S A E O A P E J E J P J J F J P J X P A P P F
"It's all right, Grampus," he said, after comparing it with the original. "How long shall I be on my back here?"
"Can't say. Why?"
"Because I've something to do when we've discovered the cipher. You and I must do that, and, by all appearance, it will take time."
"No good asking me. Never answered a riddle in my life. Blinks of Merton tried me just before I came down. Strolled into my room one morning—Blinks always dawdles,—threw his leg over a chair, and piped up: 'Grampus, my dear, would you like to answer a question?' 'Well?' says I. 'Tell me,' says he: 'Why do birds in their little nests agree?' 'Bet you they don't always,' says I. He was put out; I could see it. He don't like a chap to be serious, you know. Yet he's a good sort; so to please him I said: 'Why do they, then?' 'Because if they didn't they'd fall out,' says he, and strolled away quite happy. I call that mighty clever, don't you?"
Jack made a rapid recovery. The fresh air, the good simple food, the unremitting care of Dugdale and Antonio, and perhaps, more than all, his own strong determination, soon set him upon his feet. When he was first allowed by the Grampus to leave the cave, he was much amused at the sight of Commissary Taberne sitting on an upturned pail, peeling potatoes, and singing as blithely as a bird:
"Ma mie,
Ma douce amie,
Réponds à mes amours;
Fidèle
A cette belle,
Je l'aimerai toujours.
Si j'avais cent coeurs,
Ils ne seraient remplis que d'elle;
Si j'avais cent—"
"Bravo, monsieur, et bonjour!" said Jack,