It now suddenly struck Ada that there would be extreme danger to the poor creature should she stay till Jacob Gray came home; and as the sun was just dipping into the western horizon, she said to her,—
“Take with you all these victuals,—I have no power here to prolong your welcome.”
“The child of the dead! The child of the dead!” muttered Maud, totally unheeding what Ada said.
“Let me now entreat you to go,” said the alarmed girl. “There will be one here by sunset who has no feeling, no mercy.”
“That must be Britton, the Savage Smith,” cried Maud.
“No, ’tis one Jacob Gray. Heard you ever that name before?”
“Jacob Gray!” repeated Maud, evidently with no sort of recognition of the name. “I will sing to him and you.”
“Go; let me entreat you to go,” cried Ada.
Maud heeded her not, but began to sing in a wild but sweet voice,—
“Who loves the bleak night wind,