I made the return passage without any mishap; and though a fear assailed me on the way lest I had locked myself within by closing the door, there was no ground for it, for the panel opened simply enough, and was indeed secured by a bolt on the passage side; which no doubt had prevented my finding the opening before. For either the monk had left it undone now by design, or being surprised by his last sickness, or else a companion or companions of his had fled the house-way while we slept, leaving the door unbarred. Yet I had seen no sign of any other inmate of the tower save one; that is of visible folk, for I doubt not there were others, ministering and invisible. So I returned as I had come and went hastily to the banquet-hall. As I entered my lord and the Lord Boyle were returning slowly to their places. I caught a word of their speech. “You will remember the trust,” said my dear lord; and I knew not it was of me they were talking. “Yea,” said my Lord Boyle, and showed his yellow teeth; “let it be in my hands, or else when Jamie succeeds some Scot will have it.” And then he laughed, rubbing his lean hands together. Then my lord observed me, and calling me to him he put his hand upon my shoulder and looked at me with surprise. “Why, Wat,” he said, “what spider’s nest hath caught you?” I looked down then at my brave apparel, and was confused to find that it was gray with dust and cobwebs from my journey. “He hath been ratting,” said my Lord Boyle, “and hath pursued the quarry even within their holes.” “It matters less,” said my lord, “since it is the hour to put on soberer attire. Be in good time, Wat,”—and so saying he released me. Then I hurried to my chamber in the roof, and was right pleased that I had not been questioned more closely. And when I had laid away my fine apparel and all was ready for our journey, I took my paper to the candle-light that I might decipher it.