The nice little bit of money runs to the heart of the City. That is what the heart of the City is for; that is why it is called the heart. Now, the heart was a long, wide, and low apartment, lighted by electricity, and lined with concrete. In the centre, its top level with the floor, was a huge safe, which by hydraulic power could be raised till its top was nearly level with the ceiling, and its doors bared to the persuasions of keys. Round about were large wooden tables, furnished with large and small balances, copper scoops, bags, and steel coffers. A few chairs completed the apparatus of the apartment. The shillings of the clients of the City dropped through the mouths of the turnstiles right down to a small subterranean chamber, which could only be reached from a tunnel beneath each entrance. Thus, the officials in charge of the turnstiles had no control whatever over the coins once they had been slipped into the orifices. The coins were checked and collected by an entirely separate set of officials, who visited the underground chambers every three hours and brought back the booty, enclosed in coffers, in specially constructed insignificant-looking carriages, to the solitary door of the heart. And the door of the heart was by no means in the Central Way; it gave on a back entry running parallel to the Way and just wide enough to permit the passage of one carriage. The coffers were received, and receipted for, by an official of the heart, and handed by him into the interior. Neither he nor the collectors were ever allowed to enter the heart. On the evening of the day of the secret interview between Juliette and Ilam, the inconspicuous door of the heart was guarded, not by its usual official, but by a tall Soudanese, and waiting close to him was an automobile with chauffeur on board. The automobile was one of several employed specially to transport the riches of the City to the head offices of the London and West-End Bank in King William Street. The journeys were made at night, twice a week, and the offices of the London and West-End were specially opened to receive the coin. Automobiles laden with vast wealth are less apt to be remarked when they travel at night. Within the heart itself were three people--Ilam; a middle-aged man named Gloucester, who spent all his days in counting and weighing gold and silver, and who was the presiding genius of the heart; and, thirdly, a clerk from the London and West-End Bank. Gloucester was weighing sovereigns, the clerk was counting coffers and piling them up in a corner near the door, and Ilam was idly inspecting the doors of the huge safe, which had been raised out of its well and stood open and empty.