The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1884-06-25

talked OF emigrating, proposal to which,
as he was his only son, the father would
not listen for moment.
At length one day the son disappeared,
and letter arrived by post next morning |
from Liverpool, saying that he was on the
point of sailing for New York, begging |
forgiveness for the secrecy and sudden
ness of his departure, which he could
only Justify on the plea that he knew 1t
would be useless to ask his fathers con-
sent. The letter was full of good resolu-
tions and affectionate promises, but before
they could reply to it he had sailed.
Here / would have comforted the old
man with the prospect of seeing his son
at home again after time, and probably
in prosperous circumstan ces, but he in
terrupted me.
"You have heard nothing yet" he said,
and then proceeded to tell me, with fall
tering words and burning tears, that
day or two after the departure of his son
it was found that sum of money, amount
ing to several hundred pounds, which had
been entrusted to him in the course of his
duties, was missing. 1t ought to have
been paid to the account Of one Sydney
Smith at certain bank, but had never
been delivered therein q word, his son
was defaulter. The father, too, was inn
plicated; indeed, the burden rested upon
him, for it was he who had entrusted the
young man with the money and had sent
him on his errand, and no one else in the
bank knew that he had done 30. There
fore he could only justify himself by
accusing his son, and even then he had
no proof to offer, and could not be sure
that he would be exonerated. The poor
old man, as soon as he learned what had
happened, seemed to have lost his better
Judgment. He took immediate steps to
raise money by the help of his friends to
replace that which was lost, but felt that
until this was done he could not face his
principals nor his fellow-clerks, and he
seems to have thought that by absenting
himself on some fictitious plea, the en-
quiry might be deferred and exposure
avoided. In fit of nervousness and
alarm (such as plead guilty of myself
when l ran away from the Frenchmen),
he took train and came at once to Dieppe;
at, the same time he assumed another
name, and for greater security would not
even allow his daughter to write to him,
but contrived a plan of communication
by means of advertisements in The Times,
in which the letters were to be 80 trans
posed as to be incomprehensible Gas they
imsgined) to any one who was not &C.
quainted with the key. That key he had
lost; he saw it in my hands, but dared
not ask for it. 1t had been placed in an
envelope for him by his daughter, who
had thoughtlessly, but very naturally,
written his real name upon it. He feared
that if he should ask for it, it would be
the means of his betrayal. He did not
know me, of course, or hope he would
have had better opinion of me. The
Times of the previous day had few lines
in the second column which he was sure
was meant for him, but he could not de-
cipher them. The poor mans anxiety
again got the better of his discretion, and
he adopted the means which have de-
scribed to recover possession of the all
| important document, of which, as he truly
remarked, had robbed him, rather than
he me.
1 need not tell you that exonerated
that, whatever happened, l would keep
his secret. 1 should have gone on to offer
my assistance in arranging matters for
him at home, but he interrupted me.
"Oh, if could but see The Tines" he
said. 81 will 60 down to the coffee-room
and fetch it; l cannot wait till morning
to read the message"
He did so q would have gone with him
but that feared to meet the cook again
upon the stairs), and returned clasping
the paper in his trembling hands.
"There is your key" said stake it,
and may it bring you good news"
"Oh, help me p he exclaimed "you
know all about it, have no secrets now
from you help me to make it out; the
letters all seem to swim before my eyes. .
The advertisement did indeed look
formidable; here it is
"Zmmh slkg Dtccrlk yg fmdl rmdl
msby dygctal fmdl rmdl to msf. Tzslg.'
SNOW for the key" l said. "But what
is this ?-the envelope is empty"
alt must have fallen upon the floor,
said my poor friend, and he stopped down
and CROPPED about for it with trembling
fingers.
But no, it had not fallen TO the floor
search as we would, we could not find it.
By what chance it had been mislaid, OF
where it was gone to, have never discov
cred to this day. scarcely know which
of the two was more distressed, poor Mr.
Dickens (the other Dickens) or myself
After turning over all my papers to nc
purpose, we sat down and looked at each
other in despair. Then suddenly rem
embered what l had already mentioned
that by patience and perseverance nearly
all puzzles of this description might bt
interpreted, and resolved to try what
could make of it. took up the paper
and read the letters back wards and for
wards for some time without approaching
any nearer to their meaning. At length
an idea struck me. had read how thu
first clew to the Interpretation of thu
cuneiform Inscriptions of Assyria hat
been obtained by observing the recur
renee of certain letters and words ant
names; such as Xerxes, king of kings
;, son of Darius, king of kings" etc. L
was indeed magma componere parvis; bu
the hint was practical. The last word il
this secret message was most probably
the name or signature of the sender; i
began with capital, and consisted OF fiv'
. letters.
"What is your daughters name ?"
asked.
"Agnes," he replied, without raising
his head.
was sure of it now, and wrote dow
the disguised letters, with the real onel
| undar than thua.