My thought now was to descend again and investigate, but I think I must have been getting frightened and unnerved by the adventures of the day, for somehow the idea of returning to the cave and finding the gates closed against me, though knowing full well that Dirk had just passed through them, jarred unpleasantly on my imagination. And suppose they were not closed? Suppose they were open? I should be confronted by the dead blackness of the unknown beyond. I shuddered, and turned away, wondering at my ebbing courage, for it wasn't usual for me to turn heart-sick at the prospect of adventure. But I was still a child, and I was probably tired, and had certainly had my fill of surprises for one day. Not till I was nearly at the top of the cliff did I remember my father, who must have been following Dirk. Perhaps if I had descended again I should have met him, and learnt the secret from him. Again I hung irresolute, but I reasoned that by now he would no longer be there. Also I was feeling weary, and told myself that I must be fresh for the combat in the evening if I were to bring off my little manœuvre successfully and win the knife. My father was already in, doctoring up his scarred hand, when I arrived. As usual he greeted me with, "Found anything to-day, Tommy?" I could have answered volumes to that question, but reserve was part of my training, and I wanted to use my new knowledge before I divulged it; so I only answered, "Had a lovely day," and reaching up put my arms around his neck and kissed him. But in his eyes as I searched them I saw no trace of excitement to show that he had been spending his time otherwise than usual. Supper was brought to us, and after supper we cleared the room for battle. But I didn't win the knife. To tell the truth I felt rather stupid and asleep, and for the life of me couldn't bring myself to try Dirk's trick. I realized too that it might be easy enough in practice, but in a real fight it would be another matter. A slip would put you at the complete mercy of your antagonist. It was a reserve manœuvre to be kept as a last resort when the choice lay between a desperate risk and a certain defeat. My father saw that I was tired, and soon cried enough; and then settling down in the waning twilight he put the final touches to his hand, and commencing to yarn bore me away with him on the magical stream of his story over wonderful seas.