Warder, who passes bearing the keys. Each
time this conversation follows:--

"Who goes there?"

"Keys."

"Whose keys?"

"King Edward VII's keys."

"Advance King Edward VII's keys, and all's well."

Not until then, may the keys in the Chief Warder's care be allowed to
pass on.

Some steps just beyond lead into the Wakefield Tower, where the "Crown
Jewels" are now kept. The "beefeater" remained below, but Mrs. Pitt
took the young people up into the little round room where the splendid
crowns and other jewels are seen, behind iron bars. After examining
minutely the objects on view, while leaning just as far as possible
over the rail, John burst out with:

"Just look at those huge salt-cellars!" pointing to several very large
gold ones. "I should say that the English must be about as fond of
salt as they are of mustard, to have wanted those great things! Oh, I
don't care for these!" he added. "They are stupid, I think! Imagine
being King Edward, and owning such elegant crowns, scepters, and
things, and then letting them stay way down here at the Tower, where
he can't get at them! What's the use of having them, I'd like to know!
Oh, come on! I've seen enough of these!"

"Wait just a minute, John," interrupted Betty. "See! here's Queen
Victoria's crown, and in it is the ruby that belonged to the Black
Prince, and which Henry V wore in his helmet at Agincourt! Just
think!" with a sigh. "Now I'll go."

"Speaking of crowns," observed Mrs. Pitt, in passing down the stairs,
"have you ever heard about the large emerald which George III wore in
his crown, at his coronation? During the ceremony, it fell out, and
superstitious people regarded it as a bad omen. Their fears were
realized when that sovereign lost something much dearer to him than
any jewel: his American Colonies."

The previously-mentioned White Tower stands in the center of all the
other surrounding buildings. It is large and square, with turrets at
the four corners,--an ideal old fortress. As they approached, the
guide took out some keys and unlocked a door, starting down some
steps into the darkness. "Oh, the dungeons!" gasped Betty, and she and
Barbara shivered a little, as they followed.

Just at the foot they halted, and the guide showed them some round
holes in the floor.

"'Ere's where they fastened down the rack. This 'ere's the Torture
Chamber. You may think that being so near the entrance, the cries of
the victims could be 'eard by the peopl