If any one had told me I was a coward, I should have been very indignant, and I think rightly so; but I must confess that I lay and trembled, as I looked through the open window, and wondered who had screamed and what was the matter. The steps in the wall, the white figure skulking among the bushes, and finally the scream; was that not enough material wherewith to make a very nice little chapter of horrors? Never had I so much regretted my helplessness. If I had only been able to walk, nothing would have prevented my going upstairs and telling Rupert that I thought Jack had got into trouble; as it was, I could only exercise my brains for some other way to let him know.  
Mother came in just then, and exclaimed at my white face. That was the best thing that could have happened. I made her promise not to get Jack into further trouble, and then I told her all about it. She went into the garden at once, and found him lying on the ground writhing with pain, with his foot caught in a man-trap, which he had himself found in the loft the day before, and put in the path out of mischief, and then forgotten to remove it.
 
Cautioning him not to struggle, for he would only make the pain greater and get more firmly fixed, she ran to find father, who came with some men to release the prisoner.
 
 "FATHER CAME WITH SOME MEN TO RELEASE THE PRISONER." 
"FATHER CAME WITH SOME MEN TO RELEASE THE PRISONER."
Father then carried him into the room where I was lying, and put him on a sofa near me. "It has broken your ankle, I'm afraid," he said, examining Jack's foot carefully. "Send George for the doctor at once, Mary." Then poor father walked up and down the room as if he were worried almost out of his mind.
 
"I was after the ghost," said Jack, presently, in a timid voice; "I was creeping behind him, and was just close up when my foot was gripped by that thing. I believe I screamed once; if so, he heard me, and won't come again."
 
"Don't talk such nonsense," said mother, who had returned by this time. "There are no such things as ghosts."
 
"Of course, I know that," said Jack, recovering a little of his usual spirit. "The ghost I was after wore a white mackintosh coat and a pair of big sailor's boots. I wonder—oh, Edric, do you remember the footmarks in the mud?"
 
"What of them?" said father, sternly. "Do you remember, young gentleman, that you are a prisoner, and have no business at all out of that room; and here you are with a broken ankle talking nonsense about ghosts and footmarks in the mud. Why did you leave the tower when I told you not to do so?"
 
"For two reasons, uncle. First, I wanted to see Edric. You see we all like Edric, and we felt——" a little pause, and Jack seemed to choke; "we felt sorry about yesterday. I dreamt of fingers all night, uncle, indeed I did—covered with blood, too."
 
"Go on," said father, gravely.
 
"Well, we wanted to know how Edric was. The servant who brought our meals was as dumb as any old monk who had promised never to speak, so we couldn't get anything out of her. I was standing by the window at about eight o'clock, wondering whether I dared climb down the ivy and run round to the dining-room to see Edric, when all of a sudden I saw something moving in the bushes. I put my head out without saying a word to the others, who were all busy writing to tell father and mother how naughty we have been; and what do you think I saw? A man, in a white coat and sailor's slouch hat, beginning to climb up the ivy. I waited till he had got half-way up, and then I sneezed; like this." Jack sneezed so naturally that we all laughed. "That's the way I get the windows shut at school if it's cold. Mother told Mr. Barton to be particularly careful that we didn't catch cold; so when we want the windows shut I just keep on sneezing till he does it."
 
"What happened next?" asked father, speaking in his natural manner for the first time since our escapade.
 
Jack's sensitive nature felt the change at once. "You should have seen him," he said, brightly. "He dropped down like a cat, and bolted."
 
"Did he look up?"
 
"I don't know. I took my head in quick, for fear he might owe me one if he should ever see me again. I waited a minute, and then climbed down after him. I couldn't see him anywhere, so I went to look at Edric."
 
Now, although I have told you all that my cousin said without any breaks, you must remember he had a broken ankle, and many times he stopped in great pain in the middle of a sentence. Father noticed this; and as soon as he had heard all that he required, he put his hand on Jack's head and told him to lie quietly till the doctor came.
 
"You can't think of all the dreadful things I was going to do to you," he said. "You will learn some day that everything we do wrong brings its own punishment. It does not come perhaps directly, as Edric's lost finger and your broken ankle did; but it does come, my boy."
 
"But he wanted to help you, father," I said, hastily, sorry that my hero should be looked upon as a culprit.
 
"That was right enough, laddie; but he set to work the wrong way. It is no use doing evil that good may come; good never does come in the end from such work. He should have obeyed me first, and helped me afterwards."
 
It was a bit of a puzzle to me then; but now that I am older, I know that father was right. As it was, I am afraid that I was not as grieved about Jack's broken ankle as I should have been. For the next few days, at all events, I knew he would be my constant companion, for he would lie on the sofa near me.
 
Nothing more was said by my parents about our mysterious visitor, though, of course, Jack and I were never tired of talking about him. We made him out to be everything in turns, from a Russian nobleman to a London burglar in disguise.
 
Thursday evening came, and brought welcome release to the other prisoners in the tower-room; and on Friday morning my two bearers came and carried me off to the den, where we talked till it was a wonder our tongues did not ache.
 
They had heard nothing about the cause of Jack's accident, and great was their amazement when they were told of the stranger who knew so well the way to the tower-room.
 
"How long is it since this room was used?" asked Rupert.
 
"It has never been used that I can remember," I replied. "Mother thought it would make a good playroom for you because it is so far away. When I first came into it with her, it was thick with dust, and had nothing in it but that oak chest and this chair."
 
"Then I'll be bound that man knows more about it than you do," said Rupert. "You'll find out some day; I only hope it will be whilst we are here."