"Millions," he said. "Just as many millions as we could stagger under. Makes my mouth like sawdust to think of it. But pass out a bottle of champagne." Ericsson did so, rose from his seat and peeped into the outer office; the clerks had all gone for the day. He closed the door gently. "I'm going to tell you," he said. "If I don't tell somebody I shall go mad. I can't sleep at nights for thinking of it. When I do doze off I'm swimming in a river of sovereigns. With a bit of luck, it's a certainty." "Get on, Carlo. You're just playing with my feelings." "Well, it's just this way"--Ericsson's voice dropped to a whisper. "There are two lines of cable by which South Africa can communicate with the outside world--the East and West Africa cables. The West Coast line isn't to be relied upon; it breaks down at least once a week. At a time like this a breakdown is a serious matter. The directors have taken the bull by the horns, so at the present moment the West Coast line is out of our calculations. It's under repair, and it's likely to remain so for some time to come. I've ascertained that communication with South Africa by the Western line is impossible. For the next fortnight no message can come or go by that route. This leaves us only the Eastern line to grapple with. If that kindly breaks down for four-and-twenty hours, our fortunes are safe." "Is it likely?" Asherton-Smith asked. "Why, yes. It has happened three times during this year. I tell you I have followed this thing pretty keenly. It's more than on the cards. Suppose the breakdown did come, Eli, and we had the last message through? Look at this." Ericsson took from a safe a sheet of paper--a cablegram message, in fact, sent cut from the office of the East Africa company. It was a genuine document enough, with the date and the hour showing that it had been dispatched from Cape Town on the afternoon of the same day. There were words upon it to the effect that "Bertha has lost her aunt, and the water has been packed in the matchbox." [Illustration: "That isn't our cypher," Asherton-Smith said.] "That isn't our cypher," Asherton-Smith said. "Quite right; it's the cypher used by _The Messenger. The Messenger_, my boy, enjoys as high a reputation as _The Times_. If a cablegram appeared in _The Messenger_ to-morrow saying that there had been an earthquake on the Rand, and that the Johannesburg water-works had overflowed into the deep levels everybody could take it for gospel. That's why I managed to get hold of and learn _The Messenger_ cypher. "On the off-chance of the Eastern cable breaking down, I've had a cable sent to me every day from a friend in South Africa saying that there has been an earthquake in Johannesburg, and that the mines are flooded out. The cable comes to me in the cypher used by _The Messenger_ people. That's what all that gibberish about Bertha and the water and the matchbox means.