“Who are here?” cried the giant, pretending to waken from a sound sleep.
“Why, the officers sent by the King to take away the treasure,” rejoined Xit.
“Oh, indeed!” ejaculated Magog, with a prodigious yawn.
Meanwhile, Lovel, followed by Croyland, had mounted a spiral stone staircase, which quickly brought them to the summit of the round projecting tower at the western angle of the fortification. On reaching the battlements, they could discern through the gloom a large barque lying in the river immediately beneath them. The barge was rowed by four stalwart oarsmen, and its head was brought close up to Traitors’ Gate.
At the prow stood a tall man, apparently in command of the party, and who was no other than Sir Henry Dudley. The barge had already been challenged by the sentinel, and a short parley had taken place, but when Lovel and Croyland appeared, Dudley called out in a loud, authoritative voice:—
“Open the gate quickly. We are officers sent by the King to bring away the treasure.”
“Have you a warrant for its removal?” inquired Lovel.
“Ay,” returned Dudley, “a warrant you will not care to dispute.”
“Enough,” answered Lovel. “The gate shall be opened immediately.”
With this he disappeared from the battlements, while Dudley, turning to his companion in the barge, said in a low, exulting tone, “The prize will soon be ours. We shall get in without difficulty.”