“Strange that he should be here! Strange that he should have saved me a second time,” she murmured to herself, and the rosy color flashed over her beautiful face, as she recalled that scene upon the boat in connection with the events of the night previous. She could not forget the clinging clasp of his arms; she could not forget his upturned, anxious face, as he dropped upon his knees, nor the burning, passionate kisses which he had pressed upon her hands; the horror in his voice when he realized that it was she who had been in such danger; the intense thankfulness which quivered in his tones at her deliverance, and the pathos with which he had said it would have been better for them both to have perished beneath that falling mass than that he had not come to save her. He had told her, too, of his long and anxious search for her in London; and now she lived over again, every moment, and recalled it all, with that beautiful color deepening upon her cheek, and those lovely eyes glowing with a deep tenderness and joy. She knew it could only be accounted for in one way; he loved her! Her whole being thrilled with the thought. A strange, rapturous joy surged through her heart, for she knew, despite the difference in their position—for she had heard that he would one day inherit a title, although she had no idea that he was connected with Lord Dunforth—that it was an honorable and deathless love which he bore her. She would as soon have doubted her own purity as his manliness and truth. And she? Did she love him in return? Before she had time to analyze her own feelings, she became conscious of a presence near her, though she had heard no step, and looking up, she beheld the object of her thoughts at her side, regarding her with grave, earnest eyes. “Are you fascinated by the horror of this place, Miss Douglas?” Adrian asked, holding out his hand to her. “I came to see by daylight from what I had been saved,” she replied, coloring vividly as she laid her own within it. “It is even more dreadful than it seemed in the night,” he said, shuddering, as he looked below and took in the dizzy depth, while his clasp grew stronger over the little hand, as if he feared to let it go. “This place,” he resumed after a moment, “has been regarded with dread for years. I can remember when I was a little boy of seeing the smallest crack in the earth here, and I was told never to step near it. Every year, as the trees and shrubs growing upon it have become larger, the seam has widened and deepened, until the crash has been expected for a long time. I suppose our extra weight upon it last night was all that was needed to complete the dreadful work. I am glad, though, that it is over with, for everybody has been in suspense about it for so long; but—but do you know, darling, that if it had buried you beneath its cruel weight that the world would have been a blank to me to-day?”