When the Main Guard enters upon its duties in the forenoon, certain men are detailed to act when required as an escort for the Keys. Their services in this respect are not, however, called upon till the near approach of midnight. But when the clock on the White Tower begins to chime a quarter to twelve, the word ‘Keys!’ uttered in a stentorian tone by a sergeant rouses the soldiers, who are usually slumbering with much apparent comfort on the wooden guard-bed. In a few moments they are transferred to the exterior of the building, fully accoutred, and accompanied by a youthful drummer, who bears a rather dusty lantern which he has hastily lit. Perhaps the lantern may be regarded mainly as a sort of relic of the times when it may be supposed to have afforded the only available light on the route traversed by the Keys. But the way is now amply illuminated by gas lamps of the ordinary pattern; and the not very brilliant lantern might, without very serious disadvantage, be dispensed with. Having drawn up his somewhat drowsy men, the sergeant has now to wait for the officer, if that individual in authority has not already appeared. The interval, if any, is employed by the soldiers in yawning, or in bestowing a finishing touch upon the adjustment of their accoutrements, which have no doubt become slightly displaced during their owner’s late ‘changes of front’ on the guard-bed. When present, the captain of the guard—having ascertained that the escort is likewise ‘present,’ or complete in number—marches off the little party towards the Constable’s house. There the soldiers are met by the warder, suspended from whose hand, as he descends the steps, the Queen’s Keys jingle merrily.