l the while the white dust kept pouring out of the side of the
wounded fabric; the sands of the hour-glass were running down apace.

The foreman of the masons saw Lord Blandamer, and made his way to him.

"Last night's gale did it, my lord," he said; "we knew 'twas touch and
go when we came this morning. Mr Westray's been up the tower since
mid-day to see if there was anything that could be done, but twenty
minutes ago he came sharp into the belfry and called to us, `Get out of
it, lads--get out quick for your lives; it's all over now.' It's
widening out at bottom; you can see how the base wall's moved and forced
up the graves on the north side." And he pointed to a shapeless heap of
turf and gravestones and churchyard mould against the base of the tower.

"Where is Mr Westray?" Lord Blandamer said. "Ask him to speak to me
for a minute."

He looked round about for the architect; he wondered now that he had not
seen him among the crowd. The people standing near had listened to Lord
Blandamer's words. They of Cullerne looked on the master of Fording as
being almost omnipotent. If he could not command the tower, like
Joshua's sun in Ajalon, to stand still forthwith and not fall down, yet
he had no doubt some sage scheme to suggest to the architect whereby the
great disaster might be averted. Where was the architect? they
questioned impatiently. Why was he not at hand when Lord Blandamer
wanted him? Where was he? And in a moment Westray's name was on all
lips.

And just then was heard a voice from the tower, calling out through the
louvres of the belfry windows, very clear and distinct for all it was so
high up, and for all the chatter of the jackdaws. It was Westray's
voice:

"I am shut up in the belfry," it called; "the door is jammed. For God's
sake! someone bring a crowbar, and break in the door!"

There was despair in the words, that sent a thrill of horror through
those that heard them. The crowd stared at one another. The
foreman-mason wiped the sweat off his brow; he was thinking of his wife
and children. Then the Catholic priest stepped out.

"I will go," he said; "I have no one depending on me."

Lord Blandamer's thoughts had been elsewhere; he woke from his reverie
at the priest's words.

"Nonsense!" said he; "I am younger than you, and know the staircase.
Give me a lever." One of the builder's men handed him a lever with a
sheepish air. Lord Blandamer took it, and ran quickly toward