"Indeed, sir, I’m ready for anything. I must change my things and have the best supper the cook can give me; then you can put me on shore when you please. I’ve got a bone to pick with those rascals." Consequently, about half an hour before dawn, Jack was landed at a spot about two miles east of Congleton’s Folly. Lieutenant Blake arranged that the boat should be in waiting for him three or four hours later some two miles farther east, at a little cove which was fairly well sheltered from observation. "Keep your weather eye open," were the lieutenant’s parting words. Jack climbed the cliff and arrived at the Hollow just as dawn was breaking. It was a misty morning; the shrubs and grass were thickly besprinkled with frost; and he was glad he had taken the precaution to wear a greatcoat of frieze, which kept him warm in spite of the nipping air. He came to the Folly, and took a more careful look at it than he had done when he visited the spot with Arthur. It was a brick tower, about sixty feet high, built somewhat like a lighthouse, but four-sided, not rounded. The base was about twenty feet square; the tower tapered to within a few feet of the top, where it broadened out so that it looked not unlike a mushroom on a particularly long stalk. On the side facing the sea was the doorway giving access, as Arthur had told him, to a spiral staircase leading to the single chamber above. This overhanging part was supported by stout oaken beams resting on the brickwork of the central tower. On the inland side, in the floor of this room, there was a trap-door opening inward; it was through this that the late Congleton had been accustomed to hoist his provisions. The summit of the room was crowned by a parapet, crenelated like the walls of a fort. The door, as Jack had already seen, was strongly barricaded. On the inner face of the tower, less exposed than the others to the sea winds, ivy had grown more than half-way up, and from this a number of sparrows flew rustling out when Jack appeared. He walked round and round examining the tower from every point of view. What a strange man Congleton must have been to choose this lonely spot in which to pass so many years of a solitary existence! Jack closely inspected the doorway. The wood was worm-eaten, the heads of the iron nails thick with rust, and the barricading had been so thoroughly done that it would take a long time to free the entrance. It was quite clear that no one had gone either in or out for many years. Yet, if the tower had indeed been used for signaling, as he suspected, there must be a way in. Where was it?