He showed me the great difference in the English hand in Elizabeth’s day to the Italian, and we concluded that it was in the autography of Bartholomew da Schorno himself. But, possessing no key to the cipher, neither of us was hopeful of reading the statement contained therein. I could not help thinking that the key in the vellum book would be of some use to us, but my friend was quite positive that it had nothing whatever to do with the present cryptic writing.
The crisp parchment was folded at the bottom, and through this fold three slits were cut, upon which pieces of parchment like broad tapes were threaded. Upon each was a seal, one of them that of Bartholomew, bearing the leopard rampant.
The curious device near the end of the document I copied as exactly as I could, and when, after Staffurth had puzzled over the yellow screed for an hour, we were about to hand it back to the attendant, the assistant-keeper approached my friend and, greeting him, asked—
“What do you find of interest in that roll, Mr. Staffurth? It has been in request by several people during the past day or two.”
“Has any one else copied it?” I demanded breathlessly.
“Yes. There were two men looking at it three days ago, and they took a copy.”
“Can you describe them?” asked Staffurth, dumfounded, for, like me, he feared that we had been again forestalled.
“They were fair, both of them. One was evidently well-versed in palæography. He was a thin, tall man, with a slight impediment in his speech.”
“How did they discover it?” inquired Staffurth.
“By the unusual name—Italian, isn’t it? The roll is catalogued under that. You found it in the same manner, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” the old expert responded. “But I suppose no one has ever discovered the key to the cipher?”
“Unless that document of Knutton’s contains it,” I remarked to my friend.
“Ah!” he gasped. “I never thought of that! This may be the absolute record with the plan, and the Knutton parchment the key to the cipher.”
“If so, then we’ve lost it! We are too late,” I remarked, my heart sinking.
“Professor Campbell, of Edinburgh, was much interested in it, and tried to make it out two years ago, but utterly failed,” was the assistant-keeper’s remark, and a few moments later, after we had handed the roll back to the attendant, he left us, and I returned with Staffurth to his house in Clapham.