Still I read and re-read it,
juggling with the words and turning them about to squeeze new meaning
from them.
'Fourscore feet deep _in the north well_,'--'fourscore feet deep in the
well _to north_'--'fourscore feet _north of the deep well_,'--so the
words went round and round in my head, till I was tired and giddy, and
fell unawares asleep.
It was daylight when I awoke, and the wind had fallen, though I could
still hear the thunder of the swell against the rock-face down below. The
fire was yet burning, and by it sat Elzevir, cooking something in the
pot. He looked fresh and keen, like a man risen from a long night's
sleep, rather than one who had spent the hours of darkness in struggling
against a gale, and must afterwards remain watching because, forsooth,
the sentinel sleeps.
He spoke as soon as he saw that I was awake, laughing and saying: 'How
goes the night, Watchman? This is the second time that I have caught thee
napping, and didst sleep so sound it might have taken a cold pistol's
lips against thy forehead to awake thee.'
I was too full of my story even to beg his pardon, but began at once to
tell him what had happened; and how, by following the hint that Ratsey
dropped, I had made out, as I thought, a secret meaning in these verses.
Elzevir heard me patiently, and with more show of interest towards the
end; and then took the parchment in his hands, reading it carefully, and
checking the errors of numbering by the help of the red prayer-book.
Pages:
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