towers, and, for anything I
know, three-cornered towers, each with its own history of horrors. There
are windows from which people were thrown, bridges over which they were
dragged, and dark holes in which they were incarcerated.

[Illustration: "A dozen umbrellas were tipped up; the rain fell fast
upon a dozen upturned, expectant faces." Page 57.]

To appreciate all this, you should see it--as we did one chilly May
morning. We huddled about the stove in the waiting-room upon the site of
the old royal menagerie, our companions a round man, with a limp gingham
cravat and shabby coat, a little old woman in a poke bonnet, and half a
dozen or more schoolboys from the country. A tall Yankee of inquiring
mind joined us as we sallied from the door, led by a guide gorgeous in
ruff and buckles, cotton velvet and gilt lace, and with all these
glories surmounted by a black hat, that swelled out at the top in a
wonderful manner. Down the narrow street within the gates, over the
slippery cobble-stones, under considerable mental excitement, and our
alpaca umbrella, we followed our guide to an archway, before which he
paused, and struck an attitude. The long Yankee darted forward. "Stand
back, my friends, stand back," said the guide. "You will please form
a circle." Immediately a dozen umbrellas surrounded him. He pointed to a
narrow window over our heads; a dozen umbrellas were tipped up; the rain
fell fast upon a dozen upturned, expectant faces. "In that room, Sir
----" (I could not catch the name) "spent the night before his
execution, in solemn meditation and prayer." There was a circular groan
of sympathy and approval from a dozen lips, the re-cant of a dozen
dripping umbrellas, and we pattered on to the next point of interest,
following our leader through pools of blood, figuratively
speaking,--literally, through pools of water,--our eyes distended, our
cheeks pale with horror. Ah, what treasures of credulity we must have
been to the guides in those days! Time brought unbelief and hardness of
heart.

We mounted stairs narrow and dark; we descended stairs dark and narrow;
we entered chambers gloomy and grim. The half I could not tell--of the
rooms filled with war trophies--scalps in the belt of the nation--from
the Spanish Armada down to the Sepoy rebellion; the long hall, with its
double row of lumbering old warriors encased in steel, as though they
had stepped into a steel tower and walked off, tower and all, some fine
morni