“Indecipherable!” exclaimed Manoel. “No, sir; we shall end by finding the key of the document on which the man’s life depends.”
Manoel had risen, a prey to the excitement he could not control; the reply he had received was too hopeless, and he refused to accept it for good.
At a gesture from the judge, however, he sat down again, and in a calmer voice asked:
“And in the first place, sir, what makes you think that the basis of this document is a number, or, as you call it, a cipher?”
“Listen to me, young man,” replied the judge, “and you will be forced to give in to the evidence.”
The magistrate took the document and put it before the eyes of Manoel and showed him what he had done.
“I began,” he said, “by treating this document in the proper way, that is to say, logically, leaving nothing to chance. I applied to it an alphabet based on the proportion the letters bear to one another which is usual in our language, and I sought to obtain the meaning by following the precepts of our immortal analyst, Edgar Poe. Well, what succeeded with him collapsed with me.”
“Collapsed!” exclaimed Manoel.
“Yes, my dear young man, and I at once saw that success sought in that fashion was impossible. In truth, a stronger man than I might have been deceived.”
“But I should like to understand,” said Manoel, “and I do not——”