The assistant-keeper in the Oriental room replied in the affirmative. The old gentleman had been there three days before, and had afterwards gone to the great reading-room.
Proceeding there. Professor Griffin quickly made inquiries, discovering presently that the man had given the name of Rosenberg. He was shown a slip upon which was written the titles of the two rare works he had consulted. They were:
“Cryptomengsis Patefacta (1685),” and “Kryptographik, Kluber (1809).”
These were, he recognised, the two leading works on cryptography, explaining, as they did, all the early systems of secret writing from the scytalc in use by the early Greeks down to the biliteral cipher of Sir Francis Bacon. It was therefore quite plain that the stranger, whoever he might be, though at Oxford he had made those calculations in order to test the existence of a numerical cipher in the Book of Ezekiel, had not yet discovered any true key.
This knowledge gave Griffin great satisfaction. The loss of that crumpled paper from his pocket was, he recognised of no import.
Inquires of the librarian showed that the stranger was not known in the reading-room as a regular reader. Yet he agreed, as indeed had other librarians and keepers of manuscripts, that the old man was undoubtedly a scholar.
This person’s will-o’-the-wisp existence was most tantalising. In appearance he was described as an old white-headed man with deep-set eyes and a longish white beard, rather shabbily dressed and wearing a long black overcoat much the worse for wear. Great scholars are not remarkable for their neatness in dress. They are mostly neglectful, as indeed was Professor Griffin himself. To Gwen, her father was a constant source of anxiety, for only at her supreme command would he even order a new suit, and his evening clothes were so old and out of shape that she had, times without number, declared herself ashamed to go out to the smart houses at which they were so often asked to dine.
But genius is always forgiven its garments, and the fact that the bearded stranger was described as shabby and almost threadbare did not surprise the man who went about equally shabby himself.
If he were interested in the “Cryptomengsis Patefacta,” then one thing was proved. His researches at the Bodleian had been without result.
The continued absence of Gwen, however, prevented Griffin from continuing his inquiries. Though times without number he opened the Hebrew text of Ezekiel and tried to study it, yet he was unable to concentrate his mind upon it, and always closed the book again with a deep sigh.