Here Mr. Fortescue paused, as if to reflect; and, though the observation
was not very flattering--hardly civil, indeed--I was so anxious to hear
this story that I took it in good part, and waited patiently for his
decision.

"To relate it _viva voce_" he went on, thoughtfully, "would be troublesome
to both of us."

"I am sure I should find it anything but troublesome."

"Well, I should. It would take too much time, and I hate travelling over
old ground. But that is a difficulty which I think we can get over. For
many years I have made a record of the principal events of my life, in the
form of a personal narrative; and though I have sometimes let it run
behind for a while, I have always written it up."

"That is exactly the thing. As you say, telling a long story is
troublesome. I can read it."

"I am afraid not. It is written in a sort of stenographic cipher of my own
invention."

"That is very awkward," I said, despondently. "I know no more of shorthand
than of Sanskrit, and though I once tried to make out a cipher, the only
tangible result was a splitting headache."

"With the key, which I will give you, a little instruction and practice,
you should have no difficulty in making out my cipher. It will be an
exercise for your intelligence"--smiling. "Will you try?"