shortly expect an answer. Let us only hope that when it comes it may be
immediately intelligible.'

We waited throughout the whole of that day and night, hiding our
eagerness under the pretence of absorption in our books. If by chance I
fell into an uneasy doze, I found him on waking ever watchful, and
poring over the great tome before him. About the time, however, when,
could we have seen it, the first grey of dawn must have been peeping
over the land, his impatience again became painful to witness; he rose
and paced the room, muttering occasionally to himself. This only
ceased, when, hours later, Ham entered the room with an envelope in his
hand. Zaleski seized it--tore it open--ran his eye over the
contents--and dashed it to the ground with an oath.

'Curse it!' he groaned. 'Ah, curse it! unintelligible--every syllable
of it!'

I picked up the missive and examined it. It was a slip of papyrus
covered with the design now so hideously familiar, except only that the
two central figures were wanting. At the bottom was written the date of
the 15th of November--it was then the morning of the 12th--and the name
'Morris.' The whole, therefore, presented the following appearance:

[Illustration]

My eyes were now heavy with sleep, every sense half-drunken with the
vapourlike atmosphere of the room, so that, having abandoned something
of hope, I tottered willingly to my bed, and fell into a profound
slumber, which lasted till what must have been the time of the
gathering in of the shades of night. I then rose. Missing Zaleski, I