“’A day of darkness and of gloominess, a day of cloud_s_, and of thick darkness, as the morning spread upon the mountain_s_, a great people and a strong.

“’A fire devoureth before them, and behind them a flame burneth.’”

Here the first sheet ended, and, as I laid it down, Thorndyke looked at me inquiringly.

“There is a good deal of reconstruction in proportion to the original matter,” I objected.  “The Professor has ‘supplied’ more than three-quarters of the final rendering.”

“Exactly,” burst in the superintendent; “it’s all Professor and no cryptogram.”

“Still, I think the reading is correct,” said Thorndyke.  “As far as it goes, that is.”

“Good Lord!” exclaimed the dismayed detective.  “Do you mean to tell me, sir, that that balderdash is the real meaning of the thing?”

“I don’t say that,” replied Thorndyke.  “I say it is correct as far as it goes; but I doubt its being the solution of the cryptogram.”

“Have you been studying that photograph that I gave you?” demanded Miller, with sudden eagerness.

“I have looked at it,” said Thorndyke evasively, “but I should like to examine the original if you have it with you.”

“I have,” said the detective.  “Professor Poppelbaum sent it back with the solution.  You can have a look at it, though I can’t leave it with you without special authority.”

He drew the document from his pocket-book and handed it to Thorndyke, who took it over to the window and scrutinized it closely.  From the window he drifted into the adjacent office, closing the door after him; and presently the sound of a faint explosion told me that he had lighted the gas-fire.

“Of course,” said Miller, taking up the translation again, “this gibberish is the sort of stuff you might expect from a parcel of crack-brained anarchists; but it doesn’t seem to mean anything.”

“Not to us,” I agreed; “but the phrases may have some pre-arranged significance.  And then there are the letters between the words.  It is possible that they may really form a cipher.”

“I suggested that to the Professor,” said Miller, “but he wouldn’t hear of it.  He is sure they are only dummies.”

“I think he is probably mistaken, and so, I fancy, does my colleague.  But we shall hear what he has to say presently.”

“Oh, I know what he will say,” growled Miller.  “He will put the thing under the microscope, and tell us who made the paper, and what the ink is composed of, and then we shall be just where we were.”  The superintendent was evidently deeply depressed.

We sat for some time pondering in silence on the vague sentences of the Professor’s translation, until, at length, Thorndyke reappeared, holding the document in his hand.  He laid it quietly on the table by the officer, and then inquired: