One of those most alarmed by the magnitude of the calamity and the terrors of that night was the great Earl of Tuscar. When he entered his barge to row up the river his feet trembled, and he could scarcely keep himself upright. He was elderly, and had been in failing health for some time. Before they arrived at the stairs at Westminster he complained of feeling faint; and when at last the barge ran alongside, they had to carry the great Earl out, for he was dead. As the attendants were bearing the body of the great Earl from his barge, a solitary man stood on the leads of the tower belonging to St. Prisca's Church, watching the progress of the flames. Evidently he was very anxious, for his head and eyes moved continually from right to left. As each spot, which, a moment before had been black, sprang into flame, he shifted his feet restlessly like one feeling he ought to be gone, and yet daring to hope there was no need for flight. "If anything is to be saved," he said, "there is no time to lose." Again he ran his eye over the increasing area of the fire. "The walls of the tower may stand," he thought. "They are much thicker than is common. But the church itself must go if the wind does not abate. The Earl has already left, of course. The fire did not spare his stout walls, nor respect his greatness. He and I alone know where his treasure is hid. He will, of course, take measures to secure it after the fire. It could be nowhere safer than it is at present. No one suspects it is in the vault. People who saw the chests come believed they contained only the rescued archives of an abbey destroyed by Cromwell. But let me see. Supposing anything should have happened to him; supposing he was overtaken by the flames; suppose, from some cause or other, he should not be able to communicate the secret to anyone, how then could this treasure be discovered? How could it be so arranged that the secret might fall into no other hands than those entitled to know it, for may not I too perish in this terrible disaster?" He turned around, and leaving the embrasure in which he had stood, descended quickly to the room below. Here a light was burning, and it could be seen that he who had watched the fire from the roof was a clergyman. "How is it to be done?" he thought, and pondered some seconds. At last he lifted a small box, and, going to some bookshelves, took out a few volumes. In two of these volumes he wrote something. "It will not do," he thought, "to make this matter so plain that anyone may understand it. If the Earl is alive, by noon he will surely take some steps with regard to his treasure. If he is not alive, and I too have perished, it will be necessary some record should be left behind."