"I suppose I had better wait till the fog lifts," she said, wondering whether it were the close, white wall or the sinking sensation under her belt that made her voice so hollow. And just as she said it there came a little breeze, and the roke lifted for a minute, hanging around like cotton-wool clouds that wanted to settle on the earth and couldn't quite make up their minds to do so; and Joey saw, some thirty yards away from her--not the road--there was no sign of that--but a narrow plank bridge that crossed the dyke and, straight in a line with it, the mysterious Round Tower. Joey did not waste a minute. She ran for her life, and was over the bridge before the roke came down again--baffling, clinging, frightening. But the tower was so near, and there was no dyke between; she had seen that. She ran straight on in the white darkness, and fell breathlessly against the rough wall of the tower five minutes later. The roke was thicker than ever after that momentary lifting, but Joey didn't care now. There was shelter and safety in the tower, and she felt as though having reached it was the next best thing to being safe at Redlands. Noreen had told her it really was a good four miles from the College, but it seemed comfortingly close when one remembered that night on the leads. Joey felt her way round it until she came to a narrow door standing at least three feet above the ground. She felt the ledge on which the door opened with her fingers, scrambled up to it, and tried the door. It was fastened, but she carried a strong pocket-knife, and inserting the stoutest blade into the chink, she forced back the bolt which secured it on the inside, and opened the door. Then, with a delightful thrill of mystery, she scrambled through into the tower. It was black-dark inside, not white-dark as it was out; for the one narrow window on this ground floor was shuttered. Joey longed for an electric torch. She stumbled on a cautious step or two; then, growing bolder, walked on three or four more, with hands outstretched. Her hands came into contact with a narrow shelf, and on it, joy! she felt a match-box. Joey struck a match, feeling as though all her troubles were over. The flash gave her a rough notion of grey walls and an iron ladder running up almost perpendicularly to the right of her, and it showed something else as well--a lantern that stood upon the same shelf where she had found the matches. Joey seized upon it, as a shipwrecked mariner might on a spar, and lit it. Holding it in her hand, she felt strong enough to face anything; it was the darkness which had been so frightening. Holding the lantern on high she set out to explore her refuge; after all, for whatever reason, it was rather exciting to find oneself in the mysterious Round Tower at last.