We walked along the passage until reaching the grand stairway, when, instead of descending, as we had been in the habit of doing, Torrence led the way above. We climbed several stories until we stood at the foot of a narrow flight of steps, which ended in a scuttle above. From time to time he looked around to see if we were observed, and then stalked ahead, apparently satisfied. Reaching the scuttle, which was bolted upon the inside, he slipped the iron tongue noiselessly back, pushed open the hatch, and told me to follow. I found myself upon the roof of the hotel with my brother, who quietly closed the heavy door behind us. At that moment an awful thought flashed upon me. Had the fellow become in anyway connected with a gang of burglars? Had all this vast wealth come by theft? I stood still, petrified. It was not too late to retreat. I would not be led thus blindly as an accomplice to a crime never even suspected by me! It was too horrible. I was paralyzed with terror at the thought. Seeing that I had stopped, Torrence turned suddenly and exclaimed in a low excited tone: "For God’s sake! what’s the matter?" "I will not go another step," I answered; "I believe you are bent on some damnable crime!" Torrence positively laughed. Nothing he could have done or said would have been more reassuring. "Why, you old fool, Gurt! Have you taken leave of your senses?" "Swear to me that there is nothing of the kind," I replied, still without moving. "Swear! Why, of course, I’ll swear. Do you suppose with the money I’ve already accumulated it would be necessary to risk my neck in housebreaking, for the sake of a few paltry dollars more? Really you have less common sense than I imagined." Something in the tone of his voice convinced me that I was mistaken. "Torry," I answered, "I will believe you. We have lived together all our lives, and I have never yet found you doing a dishonorable act." "And you never will!" he exclaimed with feeling. "You will soon know everything. Now don’t make a fool of yourself, but follow me and look where you step, too, for we are at least a hundred and fifty feet above the pavement, and I don’t want to be responsible for your scattered remains!" We approached the edge of the roof, and looked out over the city of London. It was a grand picture with great masses of shadow, and small flickering lights through a sea of mist below. Torrence stooped and walked along the cornice as if looking for something. Presently he stood still and looked down. What was he about? Did he intend committing suicide? I entreated him not to go so near the edge of the roof. "We’ve got to go over it in a minute," he answered, without even looking back at me. Then he struck a match and examined his surroundings more carefully. I was completely unnerved and called: "I’ll be damned if I’ll follow you another step. I believe you’ve lost your mind!" at the same minute I turned to go back. Torrence ran after me.