“By starting at the first ‘wāw’ sign and repeating my key. Sometimes, in a whole chapter, there is not a word of cipher, but following the numbers with regularity it reappears in the next. It is a most marvellous and most cunningly concealed record accounting, of course, for the number of superfluous and rather incongruous words in the writings of the prophet.”
“Was it written in the text—or placed there afterwards?” she asked.
“Placed there afterwards, without a doubt,” was the Professor’s quick reply. “Holy writ was inspired, of course, but some temple priest, an exile in Babylon probably, worked out the cipher and placed the record in the text in order that it might be there preserved and the existence of the treasure be known to coming generations of Jews who would be then aware of the existence of their war-chest.”
“It really is a most amazing discovery, dad dear,” declared the girl much excited. “When you publish it the whole world will be startled!”
“Yes, my dear,” was the old fellow’s response, as he ran his fingers through his scanty grey hair. “We have here before us,” and he placed his hand upon the open Hebrew text, “a secret explained which is surely the greatest and most remarkable of any discovered in any age.”
The girl, rising from her chair, saw upon the manuscript paper on her father’s blotting-pad, a number of lines of hastily-written Hebrew words.
“Is that part of the deciphered record?” she inquired, greatly interested.
“Yes, dear.”
“Oh, do read them to me, dad,” she cried, “I’m dying to learn exactly the purport of this message hidden through so many generations!”
“No, Gwen,” was the old man’s calm response, “not until I have worked out the whole. Then you shall, my child, be the first to have knowledge of the secret of Israel. And remember it is my wish that you write nothing to Farquhar regarding it. We must keep our knowledge to ourselves—very closely to ourselves, remember. Erich Haupt must have no suspicion of my success. Otherwise we may even yet be forestalled.”