The footsteps passed her, returned and then went toward the Tower and she bared her head and peered cautiously out. A tall figure in a long coat and deer-stalker cap was standing watching the path to the landing. She could not see his features, but she knew that it was Cyril. For one moment she thought of running to him and throwing herself at his feet and pleading with him while there was still time to go away into the darkness--with her--anywhere before this stranger should reach him. But her courage failed her and she sank back into her corner. And when she straightened again her moment had passed, for she heard other footsteps to her right of a man as he clambered up the rocks. He passed quite near her, a burly man in a naval cap and coat, out of breath from his exertions. Cyril came forward to meet him, and she heard the short words of their greeting. “Herr Hammersley?” “Ja.” She peered out and saw the burly man straighten, his heels together, and touch his fingers to the rim of his cap. Cyril bowed and asked a question and the other replied in a sentence that contained the word “_Hochheit_,” which was the only word she understood. She crept a little closer so that she could hear more distinctly, hoping that her slight knowledge of German might aid her. She watched Cyril to see if he passed anything to the German officer. Instead of this the German took a letter from an inside pocket and handed it to Cyril, and she heard the words “_Hochheit_” again and “_Excellenz_”--a message it seemed from some prince, or from some general or high official of the German Government. Cyril appeared to offer apologies and broke the seal of the envelope, bringing from the pocket of his overcoat an electric torch, by the aid of which he read the letter. Doris could see his face quite plainly in the reflected light from the page, and marked the deep lines at his brows and the stern look at his mouth and chin. He went over the document twice very carefully, and then as he turned to his companion she heard his voice saying quite distinctly in German: “You know the purport of this paper?” “No, Herr Hammersley,” said the officer. “My orders are merely to deliver this letter which was to receive your acceptance.” Cyril paused for a long moment, tapping the document lightly with his finger and then taking a pencil from his pocket bent over and upon the nearest rock wrote something. Then he slipped the letter into its envelope and handed it to the other, who put it into his pocket, saluted again and with a hurried farewell turned down the path and was gone.