Fortunately, while at college I had gained a knowledge of the Russian alphabet, and though it was rather imperfect, I was prompted to make an attempt to discover the equivalent of the two letters in English.
The task occupied me a very long time, and after considerable patience and perseverance I found I had translated the initials, although they told me nothing.
The two letters cut in the stone above were “N.S.”
I stood motionless for a few minutes, almost unable to give credence to the solution of the puzzle; then went carefully over the two signs again.
No; I was not mistaken.
“N.S.,” I repeated to myself aloud, almost breathless with amazement, my heart beating quickly, and sounding distinctly in the tomb-like silence of my dungeon. “The initials of some unfortunate man who perhaps, like myself, was confined here for some crime he did not commit.”
Whose was the hand that traced the deadly sign, and the initials? This was the question I vainly asked myself.
“Perhaps the letters below will throw some light upon this ghastly secret,” I said aloud, as I commenced to feel the two characters underneath the design. They were well-shaped and deeply cut, so I had not so much difficulty as with those above.
“I may be about to solve the enigma of the seal,” I reflected, as, in intense excitement, I took one letter after the other and thought of its corresponding letter in English.
I soon deciphered them, and found the initials were “S.O.”