Neil thought. "What business has he to take charge of
Bessie in this way? I'll not allow it!"

But Jack had the inside track and kept it, in spite of Neil; and during
the ten days Bessie remained in London he took her everywhere, and when
she left he knew much more of some parts of the city than he did before.
Never in his life had he visited the Tower, which he looked upon as a
place frequented only by Americans or country people; but as, after the
park, this was the spot of all others which Bessie wished to see, he
went there with her, and joining the party waiting for their ranks to be
full, followed the pompous beefeater up stairs and down stairs, and into
the lady's chamber, and saw the steps by the water-gate where Elizabeth
sat down when she landed there a prisoner to her sister, and saw the
thumb-screws and other instruments of torture, and more fire-arms and
bayonets grouped in the shape of sunflowers and roses than he had
supposed were in the world, and climbed to the little room where
Guilford Dudley was imprisoned, and stared stupidly at the name of Jane
cut upon the wall, and looked down the staircase under which it was said
the murdered princes were thrown, and horrified Bessie by asking who all
these people were he had been hearing about.

"Of course I knew once," he said. "Such things were thrashed into me at
school, but hanged if I have them and their history at my tongue's end,
as you have. Are you not tired to death?" he asked, pantingly, and
fanning himself with his soft hat as they left the gloomy building, and,
after looking at the spot where Ann Boleyn and Lady Jane Grey were
beheaded, went back to the office where they dismissed their guide.

It was a scorchingly hot day, and Jack was perspiring at every pore, but
Bessie was fresh and bright as ever, and eager to go to the Abbey and
the Parliament House, and possibly _somewhere else_, and Jack obeyed her
with an inward groan, and went where she wished to go, and marveled at
her knowledge of and interest in everything pertaining to Westminster
and its surroundings. Never in his life had Jack Trevellian been as
tired as he was that night, with a back which ached so hard that he
actually bought a plaster for it next morning, and, thus strengthened
and fortified, started again on his mission. Kensington Museum, the
British Museum, the National Gallery, Crystal Palace, Hampton Court, and
the Queen's Stables were all visited by turn, and then they we