It was built of stone, which had, apparently, been taken from the cliffs adjoining. A rough flight of steps, also of stone, encircled it outside, reaching to the summit. The ruins of what had once been a light-house lantern on the top proclaimed the uses to which the tower had been put before it fell into ruin. About its base creepers grew luxuriantly; but they had been cleared away at one point, where a door, heavily studded with iron rivets, was observable.
"Do you live here?" inquired Jack, as the man walked up to the door with the confident air of possession.
"I do—yes. If you want anything to eat, you had better come inside."
Such was the gruff rejoinder of the man, as he inserted a key in the door and swung it open. Evidently, the outside stairs were not used by him. A closer view, in fact, showed that they were tottering, like the rest of the structure, and probably were not safe.
Sandy and Jack exchanged swift glances, as the man undid the door. Was this some trap that they were being enticed into? But, hungry and faint as they were, the lads were not in a critical mood. While they still hesitated, the man turned round.
"Well," he said grumpily, "are you comin' in, or ain't you? I can't wait here all night."
"We'll be right with you," said Jack with alacrity, stepping forward and resolutely putting his fears behind him, "I hope dinner's ready," he added by way of a small pleasantry.
But in return for his smiling remark, the man only mumbled something, and whistled to his dogs. Then, followed by the two lads, he entered the ancient door, which groaned on its hinges, with what Jack's excited mind interpreted as a note of warning. But it was too late to turn back now.
As the man swung the door to behind them and locked it, Jack felt that they were committed to the adventure, come what might.