`To continue, General. About that crossbow bolt. Does it belong here?'
`I have been wondering how long you would take to get to that,' the other answered, sharply. `I don't know. I am inquiring. There is a collection of crossbows and a few bolts here; it is in a glass case in the armoury on the second floor of the White Tower. But I am perfectly certain nothing has been stolen from there…. However, we have a workshop in the Brick Tower, on the other side of the parade-ground, which we use for cleaning and repairing the armour and weapons on display. I've sent for the warder in charge. He will be able to tell you.'
`But could one of your display crossbows have been used?' `Oh yes. They are kept in as careful repair as though we meant to use them as weapons ourselves.'
Hadley fell to whistling between his teeth. Then he turned to Dr Fell.
`For a, person who enjoys talking as much as you do, Doctor,' he said, `you have been incredibly silent. Have you any ideas?'
A long sniff rumbled in the doctor's nose. `Yes,' he returned, `yes, I have. But they don't concern windows or crossbows. They concern hats. Let me have that topper, will you?'
Hadley handed it over without a word.
`This,' General Mason explained, as they turned to the left at the Byward Tower, 'is the smaller Warders' Hall; we have our enforced guests in the other.' He pushed open a door under the arch, and motioned to them to pass.
It was not until Rampole entered the warmth of the room that he realized how chilled and stiff he was. A large coal fire crackled under a hooded fireplace. The room was circular and comfortable, with a groined roof from which hung a cluster of electric lights, and cross-slits of windows high up in the wall. Behind a large flat desk, his hands folded upon it, sat a straight-backed elderly man, regarding them from under tufted white eyebrows. He wore the costume of the Yeomen Warders, but his was much more elaborate than those Rampole had seen. Besides him a tall, thin young man with a stoop was making notes on a slip of paper.
`Sit down, gentlemen,' said General Mason. `This is Mr Radburn, the chief warder; and Mr Dalrye, my secretary.'