"Because ’tis the safest place for it," he answered, as he closed and locked the lid. "To give it to its rightful owner would need explanations, and those would be risky and might lead to trouble. Therefore let it rest here. And now," he added, pushing back the box, "I have told you everything. I always meant to do so on your eighteenth birthday, and glad am I ’tis done, for the sharing of a secret trustily brings great relief. As to the future; well, as I said before, when I am gone--when the secret is again one man’s--you will do exactly as you please, but I would counsel you, when that time comes, to burn the box and all that it contains." "Why not burn it now," I put in eagerly, "and be done with it for ever?" My father drew the box towards him, and, as it seemed to me, caressed it. "Because," he said, "I could not bring myself to do it. ’Tis perchance naught save an old man’s foolish fancy, Michael, but I tell you I have kept this little thing so long that I--I love it, even as I fear it." "Then why not burn the papers only?" I suggested. "Ah! that would leave an empty shell indeed; and what is a body when the heart is taken from it? Nor would I trust the flames. No, no! When I am dead, burn as and what you please, but until then my little friend goes back into his resting-place. Come! let me show you how the panel may be opened." With that, he replaced the box in its dark corner, and, having closed the cupboard door, was just showing me the secret of the spring, when we were once more startled by a noise outside--this time like that of snapping twigs. For a moment we both stood stock-still, listening, then running to the window, looked out anxiously. But again there was nothing to be seen. The ancient, broad-leaved chestnut tree which grew quite close above a neighbouring wall and threw deep shadows on the lawn beneath, gave forth no sign. "Ah, Michael," quoth my father, smiling, though his look was most uneasy, "methinks it is a case of guilty consciences begetting fearful thoughts. A bird, an animal it surely was, or----" He stopped; for suddenly, from nowhere, as it seemed to me, a great black cat sprang into view and fled helter-skelter down the garden walk, with a goodly length of narrow cord trailing from its neck. We started back as though it had been the Evil One himself; then, as the brute dashed out of view, turned to each other and broke out a-laughing. But verily it struck me that our mirth was far from being hearty; and, looking back, it seems a mockery that we laughed at all. "So much for the disturber of our peace," remarked my father. "A poor beast, doubtless tortured by some cruel lad, hath saved himself from--hanging." "’Tis a case of gallows cheating, then," said I; "and one of blackness, too--a black cat there, a black box here." I said this lightly, but my father cast a swift, uneasy glance towards the secret panel.