o him to
come. Leon must have known him, for he hastened to obey.

The two were about thirty yards from Heritage's window. Leon was
telling some story volubly, pointing now to the Tower and now towards
the sea. The big man nodded as if satisfied. Heritage noted that his
right arm was tied up, and that the mackintosh sleeve was empty, and
that brought him enlightenment. It was Loudon the factor, whom Dickson
had winged the night before. The two of them passed out of view in the
direction of Spidel.

The sight awoke Heritage to the supreme unpleasantness of his position.
He was utterly alone on the headland, and his allies had vanished into
space, while the enemy plans, moving like clockwork, were approaching
their consummation. For a second he thought of leaving the Tower and
hiding somewhere in the cliffs. He dismissed the notion unwillingly,
for he remembered the task that had been set him. He was there to hold
the fort to the last--to gain time, though he could not for the life of
him see what use time was to be when all the strategy of his own side
seemed to have miscarried. Anyhow, the blackguards would be sold, for
they would not find the Princess. But he felt a horrid void in the pit
of his stomach, and a looseness about his knees.

The moments passed more quickly as he wrestled with his fears. The next
he knew the empty space below his window was filling with figures.
There was a great crowd of them, rough fellows with seamen's coats,
still dripping as if they had had a wet landing. Dobson was with them,
but for the rest they were strange figures.

Now that the expected had come at last Heritage's nerves grew calmer.
He made out that the newcomers were trying the door, and he waited to
hear it fall, for such a mob could soon force it. But instead a voice
called from beneath.

"Will you please open to us?" it called.

He stuck his head out and saw a little group with one man at the head
of it, a young man clad in oilskins whose face was dim in the murky
evening. The voice was that of a gentleman.

"I have orders to open to no one," Heritage replied.

"Then I fear we must force an entrance," said the voice.

"You can go to the devil," said Heritage.

That defiance was the screw which his nerves needed. His temper had
risen, he had forgotten all about the Princess, he did not even
remember his isolation. His job was to make a fight for it. He ran up
the staircase which led to the attics of