"Books? Yes, there are some here in the topmost room of the castle; but you cannot get at them, for that room is the Master's study; and on his departure he always locks the door, and takes the key with him." Paul, with his head full of suspicion against the Master, could discern nothing but a sinister caution in his practice of keeping the study-door locked during his absence. Accordingly on the following day when Lambro was out of the way, and Jacintha occupied with her patient, Paul ascended the staircase leading to the upper portion of the tower. On the topmost landing of all he came upon a stout door of oak securely locked. This without doubt was the entrance of the study spoken of by Lambro. A pendant on the other side of the key-hole prevented Paul from obtaining the slightest glimpse of the interior. Not only had the Master left this door locked, but he had likewise taken precautions to prevent any one during his absence from entering without his knowledge, for the hinges of the door were sealed with violet-colored wax bearing the impress of a paschal lamb. The care thus taken to screen the room from espionage increased Paul's suspicions. Then he turned away, becoming suddenly conscious that to pry thus upon the affairs of a stranger was conduct unworthy of a soldier and a gentleman; and yet a secret voice seemed to whisper that he was justified in his proceeding, when he recalled Jacintha's strange remark that the return of the Master threatened Barbara's safety. "Jacintha," said he, when next he saw that person, "what secret is contained in that locked room at the top of the tower, for," he added, proceeding beyond his knowledge, "I am convinced that there is some mystery connected with it." That he was correct in his surmise was sufficiently evinced by the look of fear that came over Jacintha's face. "You must ask Lambro." "He will not tell me." "And I dare not." "Why?" "Lambro would kill me if I should reveal the secret. You yourself heard his threat. I have taken a solemn oath upon the Holy Sacrament itself to preserve silence. Do not speak of this matter again, I pray you," she continued, with pain in her voice, "for, indeed, Captain Cressingham, it is no concern of yours." And then, as if desirous of reverting to a more pleasing topic, she added,-- "I have good news for you. The signorina is now strong enough to rise and be dressed. To-morrow you shall see her." This intelligence was more acceptable to Paul than the baton of a general. He had very little sleep that night for thinking of Barbara. Next day at noon, Barbara having been dressed by Jacintha, was assisted by the same faithful attendant to an adjoining sitting-room, and comfortably installed in a big arm-chair placed beside an open casement which commanded a view of the sea.