I followed the servant to this room, and, being left alone, was about to review the events which had taken place since I had left my home a few days before. Apparently I had accomplished nought, but really I had accomplished much, especially if there was truth in what old Father Solomon had told me. Although I have said nothing concerning it here, I had thought much before returning to Folkestone without again seeking out the old man and accusing him of treachery. I reflected that it would be best for him to think of me as dead, for if I went to him he would take other steps for hiding the precious document, and then all through which I had gone would be in vain. Only one thing tempted me to go back to Pycroft Hall and again descend into those dark regions underground, and that was the dread that he had treated the woman called Constance as he had treated me. But, although the thought fretted me sorely, the more I reflected, the stronger was my conviction that she had left the house by some other means. It was late in the evening before my father returned, and then he greeted me as though we had been separated for years, instead of a few days. "How fares it with you, Roland, my son? You look pale, and there is a bruise on your forehead." "My hat covers the bruise, father," I replied gaily. "As to my pale face, it will be quickly ruddy again." "But tell me, hast thou done aught?" he said anxiously. "As to that, I have much to relate, father, but whether it will end in aught of advantage you shall speedily judge." I therefore set to work and, as clearly as I could, told him of much through which I had passed since the day I left him. For a long time he spoke no word, either good or bad, concerning what he had heard, and even when he broke the silence it was only to ask me many keen searching questions, the which I found difficult to answer, for I had not thought of many of the meanings which he attached to what had happened to me. Nevertheless, he seemed well pleased with me, and admitted that I had acted with much wisdom and caution. Concerning the black box, which lay hidden in the cavern beneath the grounds of Pycroft, he pondered long, so much so that I thought he forgot the dismal condition I had been in when old Solomon had left me there alone. "Thou hast done well, Roland," he said, "so well that I have no advice to give thee save this. When thou dost appear before the king, do not parade thy knowledge over-soon." "I appear before the king!" I cried. "Ay. That must be." "But how?" "I may be able to help thee in this; but if I cannot, thou hast a clever head and must make thine own way. And another thing: if ever thou dost see Dame Walters again, see to it that thou dost tell her nothing." I looked at him questioningly. "Never trust a woman more than you must," he said quietly. "The best schemes in the world have been frustrated by women. The truth is, she knows not how to hold her tongue."