I was quiet, for he hadn't answered my question. He seemed to be meditating something, and twice he was about to speak; but eyeing me askance he held his peace. And it wasn't until we were installed at the _Snow Man_ some days later that the answer came, and then in a strange manner. As at the _Dolphin_ we shared an upstairs room, and I noticed that my father's uneasiness hadn't lessened with our flight, though he was cheerful enough. Indeed I have scarcely ever known him otherwise than cheerful, though now I can realize something of the harrowing anxiety that must have been his almost daily portion. We hadn't been alone in our room for half a minute before he began examining the locks and bolts of the door and window, sounding the walls, peering into cupboards and behind pictures, and feeling up the chimney. Later he tested the possibility of climbing down the wall outside the window, which was well hidden from the road. He managed it, but with great difficulty, and that seemed to set him more at ease. But chiefly I noticed how late he sat up at nights by his reading-lamp; and as there was no screen in the room I was able to see something of what he was doing, though he always sat with his back to me, shielding me from the light as well as he could. But I could see him turning pages, and tracing lines with his pencil, sometimes leaning back with the pencil between his teeth, thinking. As a rule, however, I was tired enough not to be over curious, soon dropping off to sleep, and only occasionally waking to see him still at his task, or to feel him creeping carefully into bed beside me so as not to wake me up. But about the third night, if I remember rightly, I awoke to find him kneeling at my side, gazing so intently at me that it seemed as though his very gaze had awakened me. I opened my eyes full upon him and didn't move, and for his part he remained looking not so much at me as at something deep within me which he was dumbly questioning. Then his widened pupils contracted, and with a flitting smile as though he were awakening to reality he said, "You see, Tommy, it's like this. Who put the smugglers on my track, scenting round me as though I was harming them? And who was it betrayed those two last year? And why?" His voice had a strange ring in it which I hadn't heard before. "Why, Tommy why?" he added more excitedly, and seemed to be waiting for an answer.