sagewasasIhadguessed,andthatitwasfromBeddoesratherthanthesailor.Itrieditbackwards,butthecombination‘lifepheasant’shen’wasnotencouraging.ThenItriedalternatewords,butneither‘Theoffor’nor‘supplygameLondon’promisedtothrowanylightuponit.Andtheninaninstantthekeyoftheriddlewasinmyhands,andIsawthateverythirdword,beginningwiththefirst,wouldgiveamessagewhichmightwelldriveoldTrevortodespair.
“Itwasshortandterse,thewarning,asInowreadittomycompanion:
“‘Thegameisup.Hudsonhastoldall.Flyforyourlife.’
“VictorTrevorsankhisfaceintohisshakinghands.‘Itmustbethat,Isuppose,’saidhe.‘Thisisworsethandeath,foritmeansdisgraceaswell.Butwhatisthemeaningofthese“head-keepers”and“henpheasants”?’
“‘Itmeansnothingtothemessage,butitmightmeanagooddealtousifwehadnoothermeansofdiscoveringthesender.Youseethathehasbegunbywriting“The...game...is,”andsoon.Afterwardshehad,tofulfilltheprearrangedcipher,tofillinanytwowordsineachspace.Hewouldnaturallyusethefirstwordswhichcametohismind,andifthereweresomanywhichreferredtosportamongthem,youmaybetolerablysurethatheiseitheranardentshotorinterestedinbreeding.DoyouknowanythingofthisBeddoes?’
“‘Why,nowthatyoumentionit,’saidhe,‘Irememberthatmypoorfatherusedtohaveaninvitationfromhimtoshootoverhispreserveseveryautumn.’
“‘Thenitisundoubtedlyfromhimthatthenotecomes,’saidI.‘ItonlyremainsforustofindoutwhatthissecretwaswhichthesailorHudsonseemstohaveheldovertheheadsofthesetwowealthyandrespectedmen.’
“‘Alas,Holmes,Ifearthatitisoneofsinandshame!’criedmyfriend.‘ButfromyouIshallhavenosecrets.HereisthestatementwhichwasdrawnupbymyfatherwhenheknewthatthedangerfromHudsonhadbecomeimminent.IfounditintheJapanesecabinet,ashetoldthedoctor.Takeitandreadittome,forIhaveneitherthestrengthnorthecouragetodoitmyself.’
“Thesearetheverypapers,Watson,whichhehandedtome,andIwillreadthemtoyou,asIreadthemintheoldstudythatnighttohim.Theyareendorsedoutside,asyousee,‘SomeparticularsofthevoyageofthebarkGloriaScott,fromherleavingFalmouthonthe8thOctober,1855,toherdestructioninN.lat.15o20’,W.long.25o14’onNov.6th.’Itisintheformofaletter,andrunsinthisway:
“‘Mydear,dearson,—Nowthatapproachingdisgracebeginstodarkentheclosingyearsofmylife,Icanwritewithalltruthandhonestythatitisnottheterrorofthelaw,itisnotthelossofmypositioninthecounty,norisitmyfallintheeyesofallwhohaveknownme,whichcutsmetotheheartbutitisthethoughtthatyoushouldcometoblushforme—youwholovemeandwhohaveseldom,Ihope,hadreasontodootherthanrespectme.Butiftheblowfallswhichisforeverhangingoverme,thenIshouldwishyoutoreadthis,thatyoumayknowstraightfrommehowfarIhavebeentoblame.Ontheotherhand,ifallshouldgowell(whichmaykindGodAlmightygrant!),thenifbyanychancethispapershouldbestillundestroyedandshouldfallintoyourhands,Iconjureyou,byallyouholdsacred,bythememoryofyourdearmother,andbythelovewhichhadbeenbetweenus,tohurlitintothefireandtonevergiveonethoughttoitagain.
“‘Ifthenyoureyegoesontoreadthisline,IknowthatIshallalreadyhavebeenexposedanddraggedfrommyhome,orasismorelikely,foryouknowthatmyheartisweak,bylyingwithmytonguesealedforeverindeath.Ineithercasethetimeforsuppressionispast,andeverywordwhichItellyouisthenakedtruth,andthisIswearasIhopeformercy.
“‘Myname,dearlad,isnotTrevor.IwasJamesArmitageinmyyoungerdays,andyoucanunderstandnowtheshockthatitwastomeafewweeksagowhenyourcollegefriendaddressedmeinwordswhichseemedtoimplythathehadsurmisedmysecret.AsArmitageitwasthatIenteredaLondonbankinghouse,andasArmitageIwasc