"Iss, Mr. Lethbridge, there es wawn." "Open it." A few seconds later I had entered an evil-smelling hole, which as far as I could see was about eight feet square and five feet high. On one side was a heap of straw, in another a bench. "Are you hungry?" asked the man called Lethbridge. "I was before I entered this hole," I replied. "I cannot eat here." "There have been as good as you who have eaten there," he replied. Then, after hesitating a second, he went on, "You would like to pay for a decent supper I expect." "For the whole lot of you if we can have a clean place," was my answer. Mr. Lethbridge looked around. "Every man is innocent until he is proved guilty," he remarked sententiously, "and thus before trial every prisoner is allowed certain privileges. Come back again, sir." I therefore accompanied him to what seemed like a tower, situated southwest of the gate at which he had entered. "This is the Witch's Tower," remarked Mr. Lethbridge. "A witch was once burnt here, but she will not disturb us. John Jenkins, you know where to get a good supper. The best you know!" The man gave a grin and walked away in evident good humour. "John Jenkins is always willing to do little errands," remarked Mr. Lethbridge, "and he only expects a trifle. The people to whom he's gone will send a good supper and not be unreasonable. Do not be downhearted, sir." Bad as was my condition, I was cheered at the thought of a good meal which might be eaten amidst clean surroundings, and although the room under the Witch's Tower was not cheerful, it was dry and clean. A few minutes later a decent supper was brought, of which we all partook heartily. Mr. Lethbridge was the best trencherman among us, although he assured us at starting that having had supper he would be able to eat nothing. The amount of wine he consumed, too, was astounding, especially as he was constantly telling us that unlike his master, Hugh Pyper, the Governor of the Castle, he was but an indifferent drinker. Presently, however, when both he and the men who had escorted me from Trevanion had become fairly drunk, I was informed that I might stay in the Witch's Tower for the night, while they would go to Mr. Lethbridge's lodge and drink my health in some more wine that they would order in my name. I was glad to be rid of them, for dreary and lonely as the Witch's Tower was, Jenkins had brought some straw for me to lie on, and I felt very tired. I could not sleep, however. I had too many things to think about, for in truth the events of the last few days were beyond my comprehension. I was weary with wondering, too. In spite of myself I had become enmeshed in a network of mysteries, and, seemingly without reason, my very life might be in danger. But more than all, I was ignorant concerning the fortunes of the maid Nancy Molesworth, and I would have given up willingly the thing dearest to me on earth to know of her safety.