tion of the Bible into nearly every language of the East.”
I was amazed. Were the claims of this man true? In the days which followed I came to know that they were.
“And do you mean to say that this book is written in an unknown language?” demanded Maurice, incredulously.
“By no means,” replied the Doctor. “All I assert is that the characters are unknown—the language may be English, for all I can tell.”
“May it not be written in cipher?”
“Certainly; and such I am inclined to think is actually the case. But there, examine it for yourselves, gentlemen. Wylde, I owe you an apology. I am sorry I opened the bag against your wishes, but having opened it, I was determined to see what it contained.”
I made no reply, for I was still angry. Taking the book from his hand almost rudely, I proceeded to make a more critical examination, half expecting, I am free to confess, to see Mr. Mirrikh suddenly appear among us and reproach me for what had been done.
But I could make nothing of it, nor could Maurice. The characters were most peculiar and seemed to be made up of simple strokes, dots and curves, arranged at different angles. They neither extended across the page, nor yet up and down in columns, as the Chinese write, but were arranged in little squares, or tablets, after the manner of those mysterious hieroglyphics found sculptured on the monuments of Palenque, Copan, Uxmal, and other ruined cities of Mexico and Central America, which, as is well known, have thus far defied the skill of the most noted antiquarians of the world.
But in a matter of this kind, description goes for nothing. I reproduce, above, three sample squares for the inspection of the reader. Let him judge of their peculiarity for himself.
