Gray was evidently unprepared for the dilemma into which he had now brought himself, and he knew not what to say for some moments, during which he glared upon Ada with a fiendish expression of his eyes; which she could just discern in the dim light of the cellar, that was more worthy of some malignant demon than anything human.
“You ask me to sacrifice myself?” he at length said.
“No, I ask no such thing,” replied Ada; “allow me to ascend from this place and see the man you say waits above. Friend or foe, I will risk the encounter, and I will not betray you.”
“No, no,” said Gray; “not yet, not yet, Ada; I cannot part with you yet. Moreover, there would still be danger—great danger. I cannot do as you wish.”
“Then you shall incur a greater risk, or commit two murders.”
“Hush, hush,” said Gray; “you speak too loud. Let me think again; I will spare him if I can.”
Jacob Gray remained in deep thought for about ten minutes; then, as he came to some conclusion satisfactory to him, a dark and singular contortion of the features crossed his face, and his hand was thrust into the breast of his clothing, where he had a loaded pistol, upon which he well knew he could depend in any sudden emergency.
“Ada,” he said, “I am resolved.”
“Resolved on what?”
“To take this man’s life, who is here for the express purpose of taking mine if he can find the opportunity.”