"There is no reason, except his own villany," answered Honoria, thoughtfully. "There are some men capable of anything. But let us talk no further on the subject. I have confided my secret to you, Jane Payland, because I think you are faithfully devoted to my interests. You know now why I am resolved to remain at Raynham Castle; and you think my decision wise, do you not?" "Well, yes; I certainly do, my lady," answered Jane, after some moments of hesitation. "And now leave me. Good night! I have kept you long this evening, I see by that timepiece. But my thoughts were wandering, and I was unconscious of the progress of time. Good night!" Jane Payland took a respectful leave of her mistress, and departed, absorbed in thought. "Is she a good woman or a bad one?" she wondered, as she sat by the fire in her own comfortable apartment. "If she is a bad woman, she's an out-and-outer; for she looks one in the face, with those superb black eyes of hers, as bright and clear as the image of truth itself. She must be good and true. She must! And yet that night's absence, and that story about Yarborough Tower--that seems too much for anybody on earth to believe." CHAPTER XIV. A GHOSTLY VISITANT. For nearly three years Thomas Milsom had been far away from London. He had been arrested on a charge of burglary, within a month of Valentine Jernam's death, and condemned to five years' transportation. In less than three years, by some kind of artful management, and by the exercise of consummate hypocrisy, Mr. Milsom had contrived to get himself free again, and to return to England his own master. He landed in Scotland, and tramped from Granton to Yorkshire, where an accidental encounter with an old acquaintance tempted him to linger at Raynham. The two tramps, scoundrels both, and both alike penniless and shoeless, had stood side by side at the gates of the park, to see the stately funeral train pass out. And thus Thomas Milsom had beheld her whom he called his daughter,--the girl who had fled, with her old grandfather, from the shelter of his fatal roof three years before. After that unprofitable interview with Honoria, Thomas Milsom his face Londonwards. "The day will come when you and I will square accounts, my lady," he muttered, as he looked up to those battlemented turrets, with a blasphemous curse, and then turned his back upon Raynham Castle, and the peaceful little village beneath it.