E
G
‘I cam see one thing,’ said Harriet, ‘and that is that we have got to have a vowel of some kind between M and N, and that vowel can’t be A, E, I, or U, because we’ve placed those elsewhere. Therefore it’s got to be either 0 or Y.’
‘O for preference. The number of words with MYN in them must be limited: But Y has got to be in the key-word somewhere: The end would be the likeliest place for it. perhaps it ends in MONY. That gives us MONY in Diagram (1), and a word of nine letters. That’s quite plausible. And it’s got to begin with E — G. That’s less pleasant. EBG, ECG; let’s run through the alphabet. EHG — I think not. EIG pronounceable, but we got I elsewhere. ELG — where’s the dictionary? Nothing there. ENG is impossible, we know where N is — same with ERG. My child, you can wash out all words ending in MONY — they won’t work on Diagram, (1) or on Diagram (3), and as for Diagram (2), I refuse to believe in a fourteen-letter word until I’m absolutely forced to.’
‘In that case, you can wash out Diagram (2) altogether.’
‘Right-ho! I don’t mind, though a thirteen-letter word ending in MON is not absolutely; inconceivable. In that case, either our word begins with Mon, or it doesn’t.’
‘But it does! We couldn’t find any words beginning E — G’
‘Nor we could. — Now then! We’ve got our E and our G fixed as well as our MON. Now we shan’t be long! Fill them in! Oh! and look here! I’m sure the F must go between the E and the G — it’s so obviously the place for it.’
Harriet filled the diagram in with a quivering pencil.
M
O
N
ia
r
ia
r
E
F
G
i
Q
S
T
U
V
W
X
Z
That does look better,’ she admitted. Now, let’s see if it helps to get any sense out of the letter. Bother! What a lot of groups that we still haven’t got! Still no sense for BFFY. Oh! wait! Here’s something! MZ TS XS RS. Now, MZ is something — U, and quite possibly RU; it’s a 50–50 chance, anyway. TS is SQ and XS is S — something, which means that the Q is just a fill-in letter. Now suppose XS = SI — there’s no reason why it shouldn’t. Then RS might, quite likely be AT there’s nothing against it: And suppose — suppose all these supposes are right, then MZTSXSRS is RUSQSIAT. Knock out the Q and we’ve got RUSSIAT. Why couldn’t that be RUSSIA?’
‘Why, not, indeed? Let’s make it so. Write the, letters down. M O N A R-oh, Harriet!’
‘Don’t joggle!’
‘I must joggle! We’ve got the key-word. MONARCH. Wait a jiff. That leaves three spaces before E, and we’ve only got B and D to put in. Oh, no, I forgot! Y — dear old Y! MONARCHY! Three loud cheers! There you are’ All done by kindness! There! There’s your square complete.. And jolly pretty it looks, I must say.’
M
O
N
A
R
C
H
Y
B
D
E
F
G
IJ
K
L
P
Q
S
T
U
V
W
X
Z
‘Oh, Peter! How marvellous! Let’s, dance or do some thing.’
‘Nonsense! Let’s get on with the job. None of your frivolling now. Start away. PR BF XA LI MK MG BF FY MG TS QJ — and let’s get too the bottom of this BF FY business, once and for all. I’ll read out the diagonals and you write ’em down.’
‘Very well. T — O — H — I—“To His Serene”—can that be right?’
‘It’s English. Hurry up — let’s get BFFY.’
“To His Serene Highness”—Peter! what is all this about?’
Lord Peter turned pale.
‘My God!’ he exclaimed, melodramatically, ‘can it be? Have we been wrong and the preposterous Mrs ‘ Weldon right? Shall I be reduced, at my time of life, to hunting for a Bolshevik gang? Read on!’