“Moments are precious,” continued Ada. “Wherever you go, I conjure you by the remembrance of him you loved, and who you will meet again in the presence of God, to show that paper—but never, never part with it.”
“Never, never!” cried Maud. “Oh, never!”
“Now follow me. Heaven speed you on your way!”
Maud, thrust the paper into her bosom, and allowed herself to be led by Ada to the door.
“God bless and help you,” cried the girl.
Maud kissed her hand and sobbed bitterly.
“Away—away!” said Ada. “Oh, pause not a moment. For my sake hasten.”
Like a hunted deer. Mad Maud flew from the Lone House. Ada watched her for a few minutes across the swampy waste, then, the excitement being over, she burst into a passion of tears, and dropped into a state of half insensibility in the passage of the old house.
CHAPTER XXXII.
Jacob Gray’s Fears.—The Promise.—Ada’s Meditations.