easure these
give me," she murmured one day looking up from the volume she held in her
hand. "And truly I never knew before the delights to be found in
learning. If I continue I may become as learned as Lady Jane----Marry!
was she not confined in this very room?"

Rising hastily she went to the wall that lay between the two recesses
upon the left-hand side of the chamber and looked at the name carved
there: IANE.

"Whom could it mean but that unhappy lady," she mused. "Perchance it is
her spirit that haunts this gloomy abode and inspires me to studious
thoughts. It must be that she too was immured in this room. If my grim
keeper prove amiable I will ask him."

But the keeper soon deprived her of this comfort, small though it was.

"Nay;" he said in answer to her inquiry. "The Lady Jane was not kept
here. That was written by either her husband or one of his brothers who
were imprisoned in this place. Know you not that only male prisoners are
incarcerated in the Beauchamp Tower? Look about at those inscriptions,
and thou wilt see that none of them belong to women--save and except that
one."

"True;" said Francis meditatively. "I had not observed that."

She relapsed into thought and the keeper withdrew. Francis cared no more
for the signature. It had been something of a solace to think that she
was occupying the same room as that used by the hapless Jane; so small a
thing does it take to comfort one in such circumstances.

"I'll carve my own name," she resolved suddenly. "And then there will be
one woman amongst them."

Taking her dagger from her belt, for that had been left to her, she began
to cut her name as best she could upon the stone. It was an interesting
occupation, and she was amazed to find how quickly the time sped while
she was so engaged. The keeper smiled when he found her so intent upon
her self-imposed task that she did not heed his entrance.

"They all do it," he remarked grimly. "Albeit thou hast waited longer
than some. But eat, my master. There will be time and to spare for
finishing."

"You speak truly," assented the girl almost cheerfully for the mere
distraction of her thoughts served to raise her spirits. "Truly; and for
that cause I will teach my hand to move more slowly so that it will take
a long, long time. And I trow it will for the stone is very hard."

But despite her best efforts the name grew all too quickly, and, as many
another had done before her, she grieved when her toil