In the square tower immediately adjoining, on the east side, is “the present entrance to the Keep. Its narrow pointed arch is concealed beneath the dark projection of the tower; whilst the portcullis which once closed its approach, and the steep winding ascent which conducts to it, must have rendered the position of this garrison impregnable”--so far as that could be accomplished by art; for it is only in the hands of the truly brave that any place can be pronounced impregnable[30]. <g>The tower</g>, which is a continuation of that built over the well, is curiously contrived: its eastern wall is built against the old Norman door-way, in such a manner as to include within it about one-third of the open space of the arch. Parallel with this wall, on the inner side, is another erected about three feet distant, forming a long narrow slit within the tower, which, by means of the enclosed portion of the ancient arch, opens a direct communication with the interior of the Keep. Over this covered space is a sort of stone funnel, resembling a chimney, with an opening into a chamber above; and immediately below, at the base of the outer wall, is a very small pointed arch, which is supposed to have been intended either as a sally-port, or as a private entrance to the fortress when other avenues were necessarily closed. Scarcely rising above the surface, it escaped observation, and enabled a spy to disappear almost as if he had sunk into the earth; whilst, in case of discovery or of an enemy attempting to force a passage by this aperture, the funnel above presented a prompt sluice, through which melted lead, boiling water, and other destructive missiles could be discharged upon the heads of the intruders, so as completely to cut of all access to the interior[31]. [Illustration] The ancient Chapel or <g>Oratory</g> of the garrison is another of those architectural features which owe their foundation to Richard Fitzalan. It was dedicated to St. Martin, and together with that of St. George--the Baronial Chapel already noticed--is mentioned in Domesday Survey, as enjoying an annual rent of twelve-pence, payable by one of the burgesses of Arundel[32]. The view from this consecrated spot, as observed through the opening of its mutilated arches, offers one of the finest coups-d’œil in this romantic and commanding position. The chapel is a relic of great interest--but only a relic, for Now loud, now fainter The gale sweeps thro’ its fretwork, and oft sings The owl his anthem, where the silenced quire Lie with their hallelujahs quenched like fire.