"Ah, I see," he said; "now I understand. You have cast eyes on this pretty Constance, and seek to gain her favour by this means. I thought I should discover your motive. What! she hath looked coldly on you, eh, and now you seek to win her favour. Ay, and what more likely to do this than to stand by her in her difficulty! Is a man likely to do aught but for self? Tell me, do you expect to win the fair Constance's love?" "Nay; I do not expect that," I replied. "Ah, I see; but you hope, eh--you hope?" and again he laughed. "Well, and why not, Master Rashcliffe? The king is still king in spite of these accursed Puritans; and I tell you this, Charles II. will not be ungrateful to loyal servants. General Monk is now Duke of Albermarle, is he not?" I was silent, for why should I speak? "Now then, suppose I promise to look favourably on this match, will you tell me where you believe this maid's sister is? Mark you, it will make no difference whether you tell me or no, for I mean to find her, if every house in England hath to be searched from cellar to cock-loft. Now, will you tell me?" "No, sire." "Ah, then there is some other thought at the back of your brain. But mind, you are both making a whip for your own backs. It is not often I am so patient as to-night, so tempt me not too far." At this neither of us spoke, while Charles Stuart began to play with the ribbon around his dog's neck. "What have you to say?" "Nothing, sire." "Yes, there is something. Three hours ago thou didst mention the name of Katharine Harcomb. What did she tell thee?" "Of that which I have since seen, Your Majesty," I said boldly. "Ah--and what is that?" "That which if made known would alter the history of the nation, sire." "Where is it?" he cried, as if forgetting himself. "I do not know," I replied like a fool, for the moment I had spoken the words, I realized that I had thrown down the only weapon by which I could defend myself. The king laughed again quietly. "You are only fit for the cap and bells after all," he said quietly; "just the cap and bells. Still, a fool may be dangerous if you put a pistol in his hands, so the best way is to keep him out of harm." "But others know where it is!" I cried, for his words made me angry. "Who?" he cried. I was silent. "Tell me," he commanded, but I could not speak. For who was the old man of Pycroft? Where was he now? At that moment all I had seen seemed but a Jack-o'-Bedlam story, at which a cunning man like the king would laugh. He seemed to hesitate what to do, but presently he rose and pulled a bell-rope, and before it ceased ringing the woman who had earlier in the evening accompanied Constance entered the room, while I saw two male lackeys at the door.