“We may as well visit the Central one first, as, no doubt, that is the most important one.”

As they went on, a party of twenty soldiers, who had been drawn up there, fell in behind, while Mike and two troopers of his escort also, at his orders, accompanied them.  The magazine was formed in what had formerly been an old castle, but which was now used for another purpose, that of a store, its thick walls affording protection against any but very heavy missiles.  On entering what had been the courtyard, Desmond saw that the greater portion of it was occupied by storehouses, massively built, and covered by some five or six feet of earth.

“The first of these on the right contains musketry ammunition,” Colonel Mendez said, “the next two contain cannonballs; powder is stored in the three houses at the farther end, and the three on the left side contain hand grenades, fuses for mines, signal rockets, and other miscellanies, such as brimstone.”

“We will examine number one first,” Desmond said.  “Which is the officer in charge?”

One of the officials stepped forward, with a key.  Desmond saw that his face was pale, and that he had a sullen look.

“I will ask you, before we enter,” he said, “how often do you take stock of your stores?  I suppose when the governor sends in his half-yearly report?”

“We do not do it that way at all,” the man said.  “I have a book.  It was given to me by the officer I succeeded.  Here it is.  You will see that he handed over so many barrels of cartridges.  On one side of the page I put down the number of barrels issued, and on the other the number I receive, and thus, at any time, without disturbing the contents of the store, I can state the number of barrels it contains.”

“Then how long have you held this position, sir?”

“I have been in charge of this store, and of those used for powder in the cellars underneath the castle, for ten years.”

“The man whom you succeeded—­how long had he been here?”

“I believe he had been here for twenty years, or more.”

“And his system of keeping account was the same as yours?”

“Precisely.  He handed his books to me, and I have kept mine in the same way.”

“Then it is a fact, if I understand you rightly, that there has been no taking of stock for the past thirty years?”

“It was not necessary,” the officer said, in a surly tone.  “There can be no mistake possible, considering the way in which we made our entries.”

They now entered the store.  It was some sixty feet long and forty feet wide, with pillars of masonry along the centre to support the weight of the roof.  It was lighted only by small loopholes in the thick walls.  Four of the soldiers carried lanterns, and they were about to enter, when Desmond said: 

“There is no loose powder lying about, I suppose?”

“None,” the officer replied.  “The barrels were all carefully examined before being taken into the store.  They are, as you can see, strongly made.  A leakage is out of the question, unless by any accident one should fall off the pile and burst; but such a thing has never happened, as far as I know.”