Around her were the ruined battlements, broken away altogether here and there; below her was the craggy hill-side, sloping downwards to the wide expanse of the moorland; above her was the purple sky, flooded with the calm radiance of the moon; but there was no sign of human habitation, no sound of a human voice. "Where is my husband, Mr. Carrington?" she cried, with a wild alarm, which had but that moment taken possession of her. "This ruin is uninhabited. I saw the empty rooms, through gaps in the broken wall as we came up that staircase. Where is my husband?" "At Raynham Castle, Lady Eversleigh, to the best of my knowledge," answered the surgeon, with imperturbable calmness. He had seated himself on one of the broken battlements, in a lounging attitude, with one arm leaning on the ruined stone, and he was looking quietly out at the solitary expanse of barren waste sleeping beneath the moonlight. Lady Eversleigh looked at him with a countenance that had grown rigid with horror and alarm. "My husband at Raynham--at Raynham!" she repeated, as if she could not credit the evidence of her own ears. "Am I mad, or are you mad, Mr. Carrington? My husband at Raynham Castle, you say?" "I cannot undertake to answer positively for the movements of any gentleman; but I should say that, at this present moment, Sir Oswald Eversleigh is in his own house, for which he started some hours ago." "Then why am I here?" "To answer that question clearly will involve the telling of a long story, Lady Eversleigh," answered Victor. "My motive for bringing you here concerns myself and another person. You are here to farther the interests of two people, and those two people are Reginald Eversleigh and your humble servant." "But the accident? Sir Oswald's danger--" "I must beg you not to give yourself any further alarm on that subject. I regret very much that I have been obliged to inflict unnecessary pain upon a lady. The story of the accident is a little invention of my own. Sir Oswald is perfectly safe." "Thank heaven!" cried Honoria, clasping her hands in the fervour of sudden gratitude; "thank heaven for that!" Her face looked beautiful, as she lifted it towards the moonlit sky. Victor Carrington contemplated her with wonder. "Can it be possible that she loves this man?" he thought. "Can it be that she has not been acting a part after all?" Her first thought, on hearing that she had been deceived, was one of unmingled joy, of deep and heartfelt gratitude. Her second thought was of the shameful trick that had been played upon her; and she turned to Victor Carrington with passionate indignation. "What is the meaning of this juggling, sir?" she cried; "and why have I been brought to this place?" "It is a long story, Lady Eversleigh, and I would recommend you to calm yourself before you listen to it, if you have any wish to understand me clearly."