Lavirotte scarcely ate or slept. For days now he did not go near Dora, even. He was wasted, haggard, thin. He had long ago given up living at his rooms off the Strand. He and Lionel Crawford spent all their time now in the tower. Once in two or three days he went to his lodgings to see if there were letters. The morning he went and found Eugene's there he felt faint, and he had no sooner sat down in a chair than the fact that he had at last worn out all his energies came upon him. If death threatened him there he could not have arisen. For two nights he had not slept, and he had eaten little for the two days. The lofts had already shown unmistakable signs of impatience at the weight they bore. Any moment they might come crushing down upon the two workers, burying Crawford and himself and the stupendous treasure for ever, since outside that tower no living being knew what they sought. The sight of Eugene's letter, and the sense that not only were his labours not completed, but that they must be redoubled, overcame him. He called for wine. They brought him some. He drank a little, and felt stronger. He thought if he drank a little more he might be able to get back to the tower before his drowsiness overcame him. He drank a little more wine, and, before he found himself sufficiently invigorated to move, he fell asleep in the chair. He did not awake for some hours. Then he felt refreshed and stronger. "It was a shame for me," he said, "to fall asleep, but the sleep has done me good. Now to work once more." He drove to within a hundred yards of St. Prisca's Tower, and there alighted. He walked up to the massive oak door, opened it with his key, and entered the tower. The darkness was Cimmerian. He could see absolutely nothing. "Crawford must be aloft." He looked down. His eye detected something unusual below. In the middle of the impenetrable gloom there was what seemed to him a phosphorescent glow, covering about two square feet of the bottom of the pit. The lantern by which they worked was not to be seen. What could this glow of light be? The lantern, when below, looked like a distinct yellow patch surrounded by circles of light, decreasing in brightness as they receded from the lantern. But the light below was perfectly equal. It was not more intense at the centre than at the edges, and, contrary to the case of the lantern, there was no dark patch in the centre. Lavirotte descended the ladder in uneasy amazement, and approached the glowing space. It was not until within a few feet of it he discovered what it was. A hole! At the bottom, twelve feet below, an uneven floor. Through the hole dangled a rope. On the floor below, the lantern by which Crawford and he worked. Close to the lamp, the prostrate form of a man. Lavirotte seized the rope and descended. This was the vault in which they had hidden the treasure, unmistakably.