This very ordinary specimen of letter-writing was headed by a monogram similar to that which Ainslie had noticed on the scrap of paper, coupled with the words Number One. Many speculations had been made as to what these hieroglyphics might refer to, but up to the present moment their meaning has remained unsolved. Will they be solved now? Can there be any connection between the letter Derrick had failed to deliver and this incomprehensible document marked Number Two? What does the interpretation of the latter say?
Read the
Second word of the first line.
Third word of the second line.
Fifth, sixth, &c. words of the third line.
Instinctively following these directions, Reginald applied them to his unfortunate uncle’s letter, and produced therefrom, to his surprise and delight, the sentence—‘Sir Harry is taken.’
The meaning of this was obvious. Reginald’s father, Sir Henry Ainslie, was known in his lifetime among a circle of Jacobite acquaintances as plain ‘Sir Harry,’ and the writer had evidently been alluding to his apprehension in 1745.
Reginald pursued the method with as much deliberation as the excited state of his feelings at the moment would admit of; and by means of underlining such words as the key mentions, soon extracted the pith from Sir Carnaby’s letter:
Sir Harry is taken. I have been forced to run, but have left one hundred thousand deep in the cellar under Waterhouse Hall. I dare not return, but shall trust you to get it out. Meet me after that, and help to use it for our good cause.
He had found the Missing Clue at last! Sir Carnaby’s scheme was as clear as open daylight. The spell of this intricate labyrinth, which the plotting baronet had formed to protect his secret message, had been dissolved as if by the wave of an enchanter’s wand.