"Charles would not desire it to be known," he said at length. "Nay, that he would not," said the woman with a laugh; "but there is more than that, Master Rashcliffe." "Ay, there is," said my father thoughtfully. "He who could be fortunate enough to possess that marriage contract would be able to make his terms not only with the king, but the king's brother." "Ah, you begin to see." "The man who possessed such a secret could stir up civil war in England," said my father; "such a war that might well make men forget the war between Charles I and Cromwell." "Ay," said the woman; "but what is more to our purpose, Master Rashcliffe, he could make the king restore the Rashcliffe lands, and gain for his son a place in England worthy his name." "And do others know of this secret, Katharine?" asked my father. "Yes," replied the woman; "it hath been guessed at by many, but I alone know where the box containing the marriage contract is hidden. It hath cost me much trouble to find out, but at last I have done it." I looked at the woman as she said this, and I thought there was a furtive look in her eyes. "And how did you find it out?" asked my father presently. "Of that more anon," replied Katharine Harcomb. "Enough to say now that this is the secret I promised to tell you, a secret which should give you the power to make your own terms with the king. All now depends on young Roland here." "On me!" I cried, speaking for the first time, although, as may be imagined, I listened eagerly to every word which had been spoken. "Ay, on you," replied the woman, "for that marriage contract is in hiding. It is hidden in a black box,[1] and may be obtained only with difficulty. The question is, Master Roland, will you undertake the work of bringing it hither?" [Footnote 1: As all students of history know, the story of the black box containing the marriage contract between Charles II and Lucy Walters obtained great credence after the Restoration, indeed, it is probable that belief in its validity had much to do with the Monmouth rebellion at a later date.--J. H.] "How old is the king's son?" I cried, for her story had excited my imagination and appealed to that love for adventure which for a long time had been struggling for expression. "How old?" repeated the woman; "he is a lad of about eleven years. At present he is with the dowager queen." "And do you mean that he is the next heir to the English throne?" I cried. "Ay, that he is," replied the woman; "and the man who can find the marriage contract can go far to be one of the masters of England." "And if it be not brought to light?" I cried, "then if Charles has no other son, the Duke of York will become king." "That is not the thing of import," replied the woman; "the thing that is of weight is this: the man who hath the secret can make the king obey him."