ly, and went to
bed. His room was at the back, on the ground-floor, looking out on the
bank of the little River Silva, which here runs into the harbour. No
disturbance was heard in the night. Late in the morning, when the
elderly stranger had not made his appearance, inquiry was made at his
door. He did not answer, so presently the landlord forced the door, and
found the room empty. His luggage was seemingly intact, only the clothes
which he had worn were gone. A strange thing was that, though the bed
had been slept in and his clothes were gone, his night-clothes were not
to be found, from which it was argued by the local authorities, when they
came to make inquiry, that he had gone or been taken from the room in his
night-gear, and that his clothes had been taken with him. There was
evidently some grim suspicion on the part of the authorities, for they
had commanded absolute silence on all in the house. When they came to
make inquiry as to the other guests, it was found that one and all had
gone in the course of the morning, after paying their bills. None of
them had any heavy luggage, and there was nothing remaining by which they
might be traced or which would afford any clue to their identity. The
authorities, having sent a confidential report to the seat of government,
continued their inquiries, and even now all available hands were at work
on the investigation. When I had signalled to Vissarion, before my
arrival there, word had been sent through the priesthood to enlist in the
investigation the services of all good men, so that every foot of ground
in that section of the Blue Mountains was being investigated. The
port-master was assured by his watchmen that no vessel, large or small,
had heft the harbour during the night. The inference, therefore, was
that the Voivode's captors had made inland with him--if, indeed, they
were not already secreted in or near the town.

Whilst we were receiving the various reports, a hurried message came that
it was now believed that the whole party were in the Silent Tower. This
was a well-chosen place for such an enterprise. It was a massive tower
of immense strength, built as a memorial--and also as a "keep"--after one
of the massacres of the invading Turks.

It stood on the summit of a rocky knoll some ten miles inland from the
Port of Ilsin. It was a place shunned as a rule, and the country all
around it was so arid and desolate that there were no residents near