“That is what we have tried to do,” she said. “Now I am going to tell you why I asked you to meet me here this morning, and how I believe you can help me. Three days ago I received a message from my father.”
Roddy exclaimed with interest, but motioned eagerly for her to continue.
“It is in cipher,” she continued, “but it is his handwriting. It is unmistakable. It was given to me when I was at church. I was kneeling in the chapel of St. Agnes, which is in the darkest corner of the building. At first I was alone, and then a woman came and knelt close beside me. She was a negress, poorly dressed, and her face was hidden by her shawl. For a moment I thought she was murmuring her prayers, and then I found she was repeating certain words and that she was talking at me. ‘I have a letter, a letter from your father,’ she whispered. I crowded closer, and she dropped a piece of paper in front of me and then got to her feet and hurried away. I followed, but there were many people at mass, and when I had reached the street she had disappeared. The message she brought me is this: ‘Page 54, paragraph 4.’ That is all. It is the second message we have had from my father in two years. The first one was by word of mouth, and came a month ago. The meaning of that was only too plain. But what this one means I cannot imagine, nor,” proceeded Inez with distress, “can I see why, if he had the chance to write to us, he did not write more openly.”
She looked appealingly at Roddy, and paused for him to speak.
“He was afraid the message would be intercepted,” said Roddy. “What he probably means to do is to send it to you in two parts. The second message will be the key that explains this one. He knew if he wrote plainly, and it fell into the wrong hands—” Roddy interrupted himself, and for a moment remained silent. “‘Page 54, paragraph 4,’” he repeated. “Has he sent you a book?” he asked. “Has any book come to you anonymously?”
The girl shook her head. “No, I thought of that,” she said, “but no books have come to us that we haven’t ordered ourselves.”
“What do the others think?” asked Roddy.
The girl colored slightly and shook her head.
“I have not told them. I knew my mother would ask Pino to help her, and,” she explained, “though I like Pino, for certain reasons I do not wish to be indebted to him for the life of my father. Before appealing to him I have been trying for two days to find out the meaning of the cipher, but I could not do it, and I was just about to show it to my mother when Captain Codman told us of your offer. That made me hesitate. And then, as between you and Pino, I decided you were better able to help us. You live in Porto Cabello, within sight of the prison. Pino will be in the field. His revolution may last a month, it may last for years. During that time he would do nothing to help my father. When you risked being shot yesterday, it seemed to me you showed you had spirit, and also, you are from the States, and Pino is a Venezuelan, so——”
“You needn’t take up the time of the court,” said Roddy, “in persuading me that I am the man to help you. To save time I will concede that. What was the other message you received from your father?”