He shook his pityingly, as if he was dealing with a lunatic. I gave a more affirmative gesture.
His eyes glistened and sparkled with live fire, his hand was shaken threateningly.
This mute conversation at such a momentous crisis would have riveted the attention of the most indifferent. And the fact really was that I dared not speak now, so intense was the excitement for fear lest my uncle should smother me in his first joyful embraces. But he became so urgent that I was at last compelled to answer.
"Yes, that key, chance—"
"What is that you are saying?" he shouted with indescribable emotion.
"There, read that!" I said, presenting a sheet of paper on which I had written.
"But there is nothing in this," he answered, crumpling up the paper.
"No, nothing until you proceed to read from the end to the beginning."
I had not finished my sentence when the Professor broke out into a cry, nay, a roar. A new revelation burst in upon him. He was transformed!
"Aha, clever Saknussemm!" he cried. "You had first written out your sentence the wrong way."