ft. It was
going in the direction of the Cottage and of Inkston. Captain Alec
was taking his betrothed home after a joyful evening of
congratulation and welcome.

CHAPTER XII

THE SECRET OF THE TOWER

The scene presented by the interior of the Tower, when Beaumaroy softly
opened the door and signed to Doctor Mary to step forward and look, was
indeed a strange one, a ridiculous yet pathetic mockery of grandeur.

The building was a circular one, rising to a height of some thirty-five
feet and having a diameter of about ten. Up to about twelve feet from the
floor its walls were draped with red and purple stuffs of coarse
material; above them the bare bricks and the rafters of the roof showed
naked. In the middle of the floor, with their backs to the door at which
Mary and her companion stood, were set two small armchairs of plain and
cheap make. Facing them, on a rough dais about three feet high and with
two steps leading up to it, stood a large and deep carved oaken
armchair. It too was upholstered in purple, and above and around it were
a canopy and curtains of the same color. This strange erection was set
with its back to the one window--that which Mr. Saffron had caused to be
boarded up soon after he entered into occupation. The place was lighted
by candles--two tall standards of an ecclesiastical pattern, one on
either side of the great chair or throne, and each holding six large
candles, all of which were now alight and about half-consumed. On the
throne, his spare wasted figure set far back in the recesses of its deep
cushioned seat and his feet resting on a high hassock, sat old Mr.
Saffron; in his right hand he grasped a scepter, obviously a theatrical
"property," but a handsome one, of black wood with gilt ornamentation;
his left arm he held close against his side. His eyes were turned up
towards the room; his lips were moving as though he were talking, but no
sound came.

Such was Doctor Mary's first impression of the scene; but the next moment
she took in another feature of it, not less remarkable. To the left of
the throne, to her right as she stood in the doorway facing it, there was
a fireplace; an empty grate, though the night was cold. Immediately in
front of it was, unmistakably, the excavation in the floor which Mr.
Penrose had described at the Christmas dinner-party at Old Place--six
feet in length by three in breadth, and about four feet deep. Against the
wall, close by, stood a sheet of