No other hand could continue the webs which were of his weaving.

So he went forth, as the errands of the day called him, soon after his father's last words were spoken, and went through his work as though his own interest in it were in no danger.
On that evening nothing was said on the subject between him and his father, and on the next morning he started immediately after breakfast for the Ross Markt, in order that he might see Karil Zamenoy, as he had said that he would do.

The papers, should he get them, would belong to his father, and would at once be put into his father's hands.

But the feeling that it might not be for his own personal advantage to place them there did not deter him.

His father was an old man, and old men were given to threaten.