'Come, I must be quick! Away, ye fiends of darkness; torment me not! Now, then, for the Faith. I am glad, however, my lord and lady are not in the house. No matter, if I am revenged upon the fool. I should like to see him burning upon one of the turrets. Now, Father Duncan, thou wilt say I did it well. I must not forget my cloak upon my return. Ha! ha! ye heretics! ye will soon see a blaze!' Those were fearful words for the fool to hear, who began to think that he was found out, and that he was to be taken wrapped up in the woollen covering of the bed, and to be burnt on the top of the turret, which was only a few winding steps from the place where he then lay. He was relieved, however, by hearing the bolts of the door leading to the unfrequented apartments undone, and then the lock turn from its hold, and its old rusty hinges grate upon the pivots, and Abdil Foley depart, closing the door again. 'Whatever is the villain at!' thought Reuben. 'Whatever it is, he shall have it all to himself, for I will take good care he shall keep in those apartments all night. He crept from his hiding-place, bolted the door, and finding that the great key was in the lock, he turned that also, and fled down stairs again to the hall, determined to give an alarm to all the house, by saying there was a ghost in the unfrequented part of the house. He did so, for he went into the very midst of the domestics, and told them all to go and listen, what a strange noise there was. And, indeed, there was soon heard a strange noise: such a thundering row at the doors, and such a crackling of wood, that the poor creatures shivered with terror, and the fool himself became horrified. 'There is a demon in the house, There is a ghost I'm sure; What strange, unearthly, hideous rows! Who can these woes endure?' CHAPTER LII. THE CONFLAGRATION. Poor old Saracen continued his lamentable howl, nor could the warder silence him. De Freston himself, as he entered the porch of the Tower, said to his daughter-- 'I lament leaving Saracen behind us, but we must guard this stranger.' 'Dear father, why do you brave the chill air to-night? I do not like your coming. We could surely have shown the stranger to the spot, and have seen him perform his devotions without your running the risk of cold. Pray, dear father, keep your cloak close around you. The chill air blows keenly across the Orwell, and this is a night only for the young, whose blood can be kept in circulation by exercise.' 'Thanks, my dearest child. I shall take no hurt. I have a twofold duty in this visit to the Tower. I shall see the arms of Wolsey in your favorite window, and that will be a pleasing memento of a once-learned but too ambitious man.