‘I will not,’ I returned. ‘The secret is purely my own. Whatever crime there is in it, was past punishment long before I was born; and it was committed against, not by my family. But it is rather a long story, and I hope I shall not be tedious.’ He assured me of his perfect leisure. I told him everything, from my earliest memory, which bore on the discovery I had at length made. He soon showed signs of interest; and when I had ended the tale with the facts of the preceding night, he silently rose and walked about the room. After a few moments, he said: ‘And what do you mean to do, Mr Cumbermede?’ ‘Nothing,’ I answered, ‘so long as Sir Giles is alive. He was kind to me when I was a boy.’ He came up behind me where I was seated, and laid his hand gently on my head; then, without a word, resumed his walk. ‘And if you survive him, what then?’ ‘Then I must be guided partly by circumstances,’ I said. ‘And what do you want of me?’ ‘I want you to go with me to the church, and see the book, that, in case of anything happening to it, you may be a witness concerning its previous contents.’ ‘I am too old to be the only witness,’ he said. ‘You ought to have several of your own age.’ ‘I want as few to know the secret as may be,’ I answered. ‘You should have your lawyer one of them.’ ‘He would never leave me alone about it,’ I replied; ‘and positively I shall take no measures at present. Some day I hope to punish him for deserting me as he did.’ For I had told him how Mr Coningham had behaved. ‘Revenge, Mr Cumbermede?’ ‘Not a serious one. All the punishment I hope to give him is but to show him the fact of the case, and leave him to feel as he may about it.’ ‘There can’t be much harm in that.’ He reflected a few moments, and then said: ‘I will tell you what will be best. We shall go and see the book together. I will make an extract of both entries, and give a description of the state of the volume, with an account of how the second entry--or more properly the first--came to be discovered. This I shall sign in the presence of two witnesses, who need know nothing of the contents of the paper. Of that you shall yourself take charge.’ We went together to the church. The old man, after making a good many objections, was at length satisfied, and made notes for his paper. He started the question whether it would not be better to secure that volume at least under lock and key. For this I thought there was no occasion--that in fact it was safer where it was, and more certain of being forthcoming when wanted. I did suggest that the key of the church might be deposited in a place of safety; but he answered that it had been kept there ever since he came to the living forty years ago, and for how long before that he could not tell; and so a change would attract attention, and possibly make some talk in the parish, which had better be avoided.