Mr Glowry was much surprised, on occasionally visiting Scythrop’s tower, to find the door always locked, and to be kept sometimes waiting many minutes for admission: during which he invariably heard a heavy rolling sound like that of a ponderous mangle, or of a waggon on a weighing-bridge, or of theatrical thunder.

He took little notice of this for some time; at length his curiosity was excited, and, one day, instead of knocking at the door, as usual, the instant he reached it, he applied his ear to the key-hole, and like Bottom, in the Midsummer Night’s Dream, ‘spied a voice,’ which he guessed to be of the feminine gender, and knew to be not Scythrop’s, whose deeper tones he distinguished at intervals. Having attempted in vain to catch a syllable of the discourse, he knocked violently at the door, and roared for immediate admission. The voices ceased, the accustomed rolling sound was heard, the door opened, and Scythrop was discovered alone. Mr Glowry looked round to every corner of the apartment, and then said, ‘Where is the lady?’

‘The lady, sir?’ said Scythrop.

‘Yes, sir, the lady.’

‘Sir, I do not understand you.’

‘You don’t, sir?’

‘No, indeed, sir. There is no lady here.’

‘But, sir, this is not the only apartment in the tower, and I make no doubt there is a lady up stairs.’

‘You are welcome to search, sir.’

‘Yes, and while I am searching, she will slip out from some lurking place, and make her escape.’

‘You may lock this door, sir, and take the key with you.’

‘But there is the terrace door: she has escaped by the terrace.’

‘The terrace, sir, has no other outlet, and the walls are too high for a lady to jump down.’

‘Well, sir, give me the key.’

Mr Glowry took the key, searched every nook of the tower, and returned.

‘You are a fox, Scythrop; you are an exceedingly cunning fox, with that demure visage of yours. What was that lumbering sound I heard before you opened the door?’

‘Sound, sir?’

‘Yes, sir, sound.’

‘My dear sir, I am not aware of any sound, except my great table, which I moved on rising to let you in.’

‘The table! — let me see that. No, sir; not a tenth part heavy enough, not a tenth part.’

‘But, sir, you do not consider the laws of acoustics: a whisper becomes a peal of thunder in the focus of reverberation. Allow me to explain this: sounds striking on concave surfaces are reflected from them, and, after reflection, converge to points which are the foci of these surfaces. It follows, therefore, that the ear may be so placed in one, as that it shall hear a sound better than when situated nearer to the point of the first impulse: again, in the case of two concave surfaces placed opposite to each other —’

‘Nonsense, sir. Don’t tell me of foci. Pray, sir, will concave surfaces produce two voices when nobody speaks? I heard two voices, and one was feminine; feminine, sir: what say you to that?’

‘Oh, sir, I perceive your mistake: I am writing a tragedy, and was acting over a scene to myself. To convince you, I will give you a specimen; but you must first understand the plot. It is a tragedy on the German model. The Great Mogul is in exile, and has taken lodgings at Kensington, with his only daughter, the Princess Rantrorina, who takes in needlework, and keeps a day school. The princess is discovered hemming a set of shirts for the parson of the parish: they are to be marked with a large R. Enter to her the Great Mogul. A pause, during which they look at each other expressively. The princess changes colour several times. The Mogul takes snuff in great agitation. Several grains are heard to fall on the stage. His heart is seen to beat through his upper benjamin. — THE MOGUL (with a mournful look at his left shoe). ‘My shoe-string is broken.’— THE PRINCESS (after an interval of melancholy reflection). ‘I know it.’ THE MOGUL. ‘My second shoe-string! The first broke when I lost my empire: the second has broken today. When will my poor heart break?’— THE PRINCESS. ‘Shoe-strings, hearts, and empires! Mysterious sympathy!’

‘Nonsense, sir,’ interrupted Mr Glowry. ‘That is not at all like the voice I heard.’

‘But, sir,’ said Scythrop, ‘a key-hole may be so constructed as to act like an acoustic tube, and an acoustic tube, sir, will modify sound in a very remarkable manner. Consider the construction of the ear, and the nature and causes of sound. The external part of the ear is a cartilaginous funnel.’

‘It wo’n’t do, Scythrop. There is a girl concealed in this tower, and find her I will. There are such things as sliding panels and secret closets.’— He sounded round the room with his cane, but detected no hollowness. —‘I have heard, sir,’ he continued, ‘that during my absence, two years ago, you had a dumb carpenter closeted with you day after day. I did not dream that you were laying contrivances for carrying on secret intrigues. Young men will have their way: I had my way when I was a young man: but, sir, when your cousin Marionetta —’

Scythrop now saw that the affair was growing serious. To have clapped his hand upon his father’s mouth, to have entreated him to be silent, would, in the first place, not have made him so; and, in the second, would have shown a dread of being overheard by somebody. His only resource, therefore, was to try to drown Mr Glowry’s voice; and, having no other subject, he continued his description of the ear, raising his voice continually as Mr Glowry raised his.

‘When your cousin Marionetta,’ said Mr Glowry, ‘whom you profess to love — whom you profess to love, sir —’

‘The internal canal of the ear,’ said Scythrop, ‘is partly bony and partly cartilaginous. This internal canal is —’

‘Is actually in the house, sir; and, when you are so shortly to be-as I expect —’

‘Closed at the further end by the membrana tympani —’

‘Joined together in holy matrimony —’

‘Under which is carried a branch of the fifth pair of nerves —’

‘I say, sir, when you are so shortly to be married to your cousin Marionetta —’

‘The cavitas tympani —’

A loud noise was heard behind the book-case, which, to the astonishment of Mr Glowry, opened in the middle, and the massy compartments, with all their weight of books, receding from each other in the manner of a theatrical scene, with a heavy rolling sound (which Mr Glowry immediately recognise............