"I'm damned if I will." Then, turning to Harkness: "He says I've got to go on by myself. It seems they're going to separate us. Rotten luck, but there's no fighting these two fellows here. Well, cheerio, Harkness. You've been a mighty fine pal, if we don't meet again. Only that rotten fog did us in." Harkness struggled to his knees. "No, no, Dunbar. They shan't separate us. They shan't----" but there was a touch of a hand on his arm and instantly, as though to save at all costs another pressure of that nerve, he sank back. Dunbar went out, one of the Japanese following him. The door closed. Now indeed Harkness needed all his fortitude. He had never felt such loneliness as this. From the beginning of the adventure there had been an element so fantastic, so improbable, that except at certain moments he had never believed in the final reality of it. There was something laughable, ludicrous about Crispin himself; he had been like a child playing with his toys. Now absolutely Harkness was face to face with reality. Crispin did mean all that he had threatened. And what that might be----! The Japanese was beginning to take off his clothes, very lightly and gently pulling his coat from under him. Harkness sat up and assisted him. This did not matter. Of what significance was it whether he had clothes or no? What mattered was that he should be out of this horrible room where there was neither space nor light nor company. Anything anywhere was better. The Japanese' cool hard fingers slipped about his body. He himself undid his collar and mechanically dropped his collar-stud into the right-hand pocket of his waistcoat, where he always put it when he was undressing. He bent forward and took off his shoes. The Japanese gravely thanked him. There was a small hole in his right sock and he slipped it off quickly, covering it with his other hand. He was ashamed for the Japanese to see it. His clothes were piled as neatly as Dunbar's. He stood up feeling freshened and cool. Then the Japanese, bowing, moved to the door. Harkness followed him. They climbed the stairs once more, the stone striking cold under Harkness's bare feet. They must now be reaching the very top of the Tower. There was a sense of space and height about them and a stronger light. The Japanese paused, pushed back a door and sharply jerked Harkness forward. Harkness nearly fell, but was caught by some one else, closed his eyes involuntarily against a flood of light into which he seemed, with a curious sensation as though he had dived from a great height, to be sinking ever deeper and deeper, then to be struggling up through bursting bubbles of colour. His eyes were still closed against the sun that pressed like a warm palm upon the lids.