t made him think of Ginevra of Modena, the
heroine of the Mistletoe Bough, and other cribbed and confined wretches,
who had fallen into such traps and been discovered after a cycle of
years.

The sun's rays had travelled some way round the interior when Somerset's
waiting ears were at last attracted by footsteps above, each tread being
brought down by the hollow turret with great fidelity. He hoped that
with these sounds would arise that of a soft voice he had begun to like
well. Indeed, during the solitary hour or two of his waiting here he had
pictured Paula straying alone on the terrace of the castle, looking
up, noting his signal, and ascending to deliver him from his painful
position by her own exertions. It seemed that at length his dream had
been verified. The footsteps approached the opening of the turret;
and, attracted by the call which Somerset now raised, began to descend
towards him. In a moment, not Paula's face, but that of a dreary footman
of her household, looked into the hole.

Somerset mastered his disappointment, and the man speedily fetched a
ladder, by which means the prisoner of two hours ascended to the roof
in safety. During the process he ventured to ask for the ladies of the
house, and learnt that they had gone out for a drive together.

Before he left the castle, however, they had returned, a circumstance
unexpectedly made known to him by his receiving a message from
Miss Power, to the effect that she would be glad to see him at his
convenience. Wondering what it could possibly mean, he followed the
messenger to her room--a small modern library in the Jacobean wing of
the house, adjoining that in which the telegraph stood. She was alone,
sitting behind a table littered with letters and sketches, and looking
fresh from her drive. Perhaps it was because he had been shut up in that
dismal dungeon all the afternoon that he felt something in her presence
which at the same time charmed and refreshed him.

She signified that he was to sit down; but finding that he was going
to place himself on a straight-backed chair some distance off she said,
'Will you sit nearer to me?' and then, as if rather oppressed by her
dignity, she left her own chair of business and seated herself at
ease on an ottoman which was among the diversified furniture of the
apartment.

'I want to consult you professionally,' she went on. 'I have been much
impressed by your great knowledge of castellated architecture. Will yo