Closed Doors.
“Will you come up with me into the study, dear?” asked the Professor, in as quiet a voice as he could, when they had finished luncheon.
“I have a letter to write, dad,” replied the girl in excuse. “I’ll come in and sit with you before tea.”
“But I want to speak to you, dear,” he said. “I want to tell you something. Come with me now.” Rather surprised at her father’s somewhat strained and unusual demeanour, the girl ascended the stairs to the book-lined room, and when the door was closed the old man crossed to where she stood, and said:
“Gwen, congratulate me, child.”
“Upon what, dad?” she said, looking into his face, surprised.
“I have discovered the key to the cipher!”
The girl started. Then with a wild cry she threw her arms about her father’s neck, kissed him passionately, and with tears of joy welling in her eyes, congratulated him.
“What will Frank say!” she exclaimed breathlessly. “How delighted he’ll be! Why, dad, we shall discover the position of the hiding-place of the sacred relics, after all!”
Her enthusiasm was unbounded. Her father who had worked so hard by night and by day upon those puzzling cryptic numericals, was at last successful.