“Not until the secret is wholly ours, my dear. Remember we must keep the key a most profound secret to ourselves.”
“Of course, dad,” the girl answered, “I quite see that this information must not be allowed to pass to our enemies.”
Little did father or daughter imagine that, within their own quiet household, was a spy—the maid Laura, suborned by Jim Jannaway.
When the pair had entered the study she had crept silently up to the door, and listened intently for the one fact which Jannaway had instructed her to listen—the means by which the cipher could be unravelled.
She was a shrewd, intelligent girl, and the inducement which the good-looking adventurer had held out to her was such that the Professor’s explanation to his daughter impressed itself upon her memory.
She recollected every word, and still stood listening, able to hear quite distinctly, until there seemed no further information to be gathered. Then she descended the stairs, and made certain memoranda of the text at which to commence, and the mode by which the decipher could be made.
Half an hour later she made an excuse to the cook that she wished to go out to buy some hairpins, and then despatched a telegram to the name and address which her generous and good-looking “gentleman” had given her.
Meanwhile Gwen still sat with her father at his writing-table watching him slowly taking from the text of the Book of Ezekiel the full and complete record that had been hidden from scholars through all the ages—the record which was to deliver back to the house of Israel her most sacred possessions.
The light of the short afternoon faded, the electric light was switched on, tea was served by the faithless maid-servant, and dinner had been announced.
But the Professor worked on, regardless and oblivious of everything. He was far too occupied, and Gwen was also too excited to dress and descend to dinner. Therefore, Laura served the meal upon a tray.