Proceeding in the same fashion, Paul found that the numbers following those which stood for Nicholas yielded the intelligible word ουναινεται, "assents."
"To what does Nicholas assent?" murmured Paul.
"Let me endeavor to ascertain, since it is quite clear that the key to the cipher is now in my hands."
Obviously his best course would be to go through the "Eumenides" first, marking, say, every tenth letter with its proper consecutive number. This done, the work of decipherment would take but a few minutes.
Paul started on this most monotonous task,—a task that occupied him more than four hours, from the necessity imposed upon him of verifying his enumeration from time to time, for a single error in his calculation would have confused the whole issue. And when at last his copy of the "Eumenides" lay ready figured for use, the misgiving seized him that perhaps, after all, his labor had been in vain.
"Various readings occur in the manuscripts of the 'Eumenides,'" he muttered. "If the writer of this despatch has used a different edition from mine,—Dindorf, Lips. 1827,—well, then, lack-a-day!"
Fortunately, however, the result falsified his misgiving.
Once during his calculations the eager Zabern had entered the apartment with the question, "What progress?"
"Return in two hours, and you shall have the solution."
And the marshal had withdrawn, somewhat doubtful of Paul's ability to make good his promise.