"You can't wonder at it, my dear," she murmured. "For my part, I was surprised to see her so much at her ease in her new position. But, you see, her ignorance has now betrayed her into a terrible breach of the proprieties. Her conduct is, to say the least of it, most eccentric; and you may depend, no one here will ever forget this ride home in a gig with that clever young surgeon. I don't suppose Sir Oswald will very much approve of such conduct." "Nor I," said Lydia, in the same subdued tone. "Poor Sir Oswald! What could he expect when he disgraced himself by such a marriage?" Reginald Eversleigh leaned back in the carriage, with his arum folded, and his eyes fixed on vacancy, while the ladies gossipped in whispers. * * * * * CHAPTER IX. ON YARBOROUGH TOWER. No sooner had Victor Carrington got completely clear of the wood, than he drove his horse at a gallop. The light gig swayed from side to side, and jolted violently several times on crossing some obstruction in the way. "You are not afraid?" asked Victor. "I am only afraid of delay," answered Honoria, calmly; for by this time she had recovered much of her ordinary firmness, and was prepared to face her sorrow with at least outward tranquillity. "Tell me, Mr. Carrington, have you reason to think that my husband is in great danger?" "I can tell you nothing for certain. You know how stupid the country people are. The boy who brought the message told me that the gentleman had been thrown from his horse, and was very much hurt. He was insensible, and was injured about the head. I gathered from this, and from the boy's manner, rather than his words, that the injuries were very serious." "Why was Sir Oswald taken to such a wretched place as a ruined tower?" "Because the accident happened near the ruin; and your husband was found by the people who have charge of the tower." "And could they take him to no better place?" "No. There is no habitation of any kind within three miles." No more was said. It was not very easy to talk while flying through the air at the utmost speed of a spirited horse. The moon bathed the broad moorland in mellow light. The wide expanse of level turf looked like a sea of black water that had suddenly been frozen into stillness. Not a tree--not a patch of brushwood, or a solitary bush--broke the monotony of the scene: but far away against the moonlit horizon rose a wild and craggy steep, and on the summit of that steep appeared a massive tower, with black and ruined battlements, that stood out grimly against the luminous sky. This was Yarborough Tower--a stronghold that had defied many a besieging force in the obscure past; but of the origin of which little was now known. Victor Carrington drove the gig up a rough and narrow road that curved around the sides of the craggy hill, and wound gradually towards the top.