"Can't you see me?" she asked. I looked intently at the spot from which
the sound seemed to come: a perfectly solid stone block less than three
feet from my right shoulder. It must have been very amusing. She laughed
again. I flushed resentfully.

"Where are you?" I cried out rather tartly.

"I can see you quite plainly, and you are very ugly when you scowl,
sir. Are you scowling at me?"

"I don't know," I replied truthfully, still searching for her. "Does
it seem so to you?"

"Yes."

"Then I must be looking in the right direction," I cried impolitely.
"You must be--Ah!"

My straining eyes had located a small, oblong blotch in the curve of
the tower not more than twenty feet from where I stood, and on a direct
line with my balcony. True, I could not at first see a face, but as
my eyes grew a little more accustomed to the darkness, I fancied I
could distinguish a shadow that might pass for one.

"I didn't know that little window was there," I cried, puzzled.

"It isn't," she said. "It is a secret loop-hole, and it isn't here
except in times of great duress. See! I can close it." The oblong
blotch abruptly disappeared, only to reappear an instant later. I was
beginning to understand. Of course it was in the beleaguered east wing!