"I don't know. The chamber in which they have placed him may be on the
other side of the tower," answered Victor, briefly. "And now, Lady
Eversleigh, you must alight. We can go no further with the vehicle, and
I must take it back to the other side of the drawbridge."
They had reached the entrance of the tower, an archway of solid masonry, over which the ivy hung like a sombre curtain.
Honoria alighted, and passed under the black shadow of the arch.
"You had better wait till I return, Lady Eversleigh," said Victor. "You will scarcely find your way without my help."
Honoria obeyed. Anxious as she was to reach Sir Oswald without a moment's unnecessary delay, she felt herself powerless to proceed without a guide—so dark was the interior of the tower. She heard the ravens shrieking hoarsely in the battlements above, and the ivy flapping in the evening wind; but she could hear nothing else.
Victor came back to her in a few minutes. As he rejoined her, there was a noise of some ponderous object falling, with a grating and rattling of heavy chains; but Lady Eversleigh was too much absorbed by her own anxieties to feel any curiosity as to the origin of the sound.
"Come," said Victor; "give me your hand, Lady Eversleigh, and let me guide you."
She placed her hand in that of the surgeon. He led her to a steep staircase, formed by blocks of solid stone, which were rendered slippery by the moss that had gathered on them. It was a winding staircase, built in a turret which formed one angle of the tower. Looking upwards, Honoria saw a gap in the roof, through which the moonlight shone bright. But there was no sign of any other light.
"Where is my husband?" she asked. "I see no lights; I hear no voices; the place seems like a tomb."
Victor Carrington did not answer her question.