"Speaking of crowns," observed Mrs. Pitt, in passing down the stairs, "have you ever heard about the large emerald which George III wore in his crown, at his coronation? During the ceremony, it fell out, and superstitious people regarded it as a bad omen. Their fears were realized when that sovereign lost something much dearer to him than any jewel: his American Colonies." The previously-mentioned White Tower stands in the center of all the other surrounding buildings. It is large and square, with turrets at the four corners,--an ideal old fortress. As they approached, the guide took out some keys and unlocked a door, starting down some steps into the darkness. "Oh, the dungeons!" gasped Betty, and she and Barbara shivered a little, as they followed. Just at the foot they halted, and the guide showed them some round holes in the floor. "'Ere's where they fastened down the rack. This 'ere's the Torture Chamber. You may think that being so near the entrance, the cries of the victims could be 'eard by the people outside, lady, but these walls are so thick that there was no possible chance of that. Ah, down in these parts is where we still see things, ladies!" "Why, what do you mean?" whispered John, dreading and yet longing to hear. Thus encouraged, their guide continued:-- "Once h'every month, it is my turn to watch down 'ere, during the night. Some of us don't like to admit it, lady, but we h'all dread that! Many things which 'ave never been written down in 'istory, 'ave 'appened in these 'ere passages and cells! Ah, there are figures glide around 'ere in the dead o' night, and many's the times I've 'eard screams, way in the distance, as though somebody was being 'urt! Now, this way, please, and I'll show you Guy Fawkes's cell,--'im h'as was the originator of the Gunpowder Plot, and tried to blow up the 'ouses of Parliament." They felt their way along the uneven floors, and peered into the darkness of Guy Fawkes's cell, which was called "Little Ease." "Just imagine having to stay long in there!" sighed Betty. "Not able to stand up, lie down, or even sit up straight! Did they make it that way on purpose, do you think?" "They certainly did, Miss," declared the guide. "They tried to make 'im confess 'o 'ad associated with 'im in the plot; but 'e wouldn't, and they finally put 'im on the rack, poor man! A terrible thing was that rack!" "Let's come away now," broke in Mrs. Pitt quickly. "I really think we have all had about enough of this, and there are more cheerful things to be seen above." So they threaded their way out to the entrance again, getting whiffs of damp, disagreeable air from several dark dungeons, and passing through a number of great apartments stacked with guns. It was a relief to gain the main part of the building, where other people were, and plenty of warmth and sunlight. Their spirits rose, and they laughed and joked while climbing the narrow, spiral stairs.