“To-morrow morning? Well, be it so!”
“Yes,” continued Gray, “give me but till to morrow morning, and you shall ask me no more questions.”
“Tell me, though, now,” said the girl, kindly, “is Ada my name?”
“It is.”
“And what more?”
“Wait—wait till to-morrow. I—I have breakfasted—take yours. I have business abroad.”
Jacob Gray rose, and keeping his small, keen, grey eyes fixed on Ada, he left the room. Outside the door he paused, and, raising his clenched hand, while his face was distorted with passion, he muttered, “To-morrow, to-morrow, you shall be a stiffened corpse!”
CHAPTER XXII.
Learmont at Home.—His Exultation.—The Smith.—The Plot.
Learmont, after committing the cold-blooded and brutal murder in the Bishop’s Walk, hastily wiped his blood-stained sword, and walked quickly onwards till he came to the further extremity of the avenue. He then darted down a narrow opening, which led him first away from, and then by a circuitous route, to the back of the river.