“Let Heaven punish you in its own good time,” replied the young female. “Base and guilty as you are, I will not have your blood upon my head.”
“You will be silent?”
“I will strive to forget you.”
“Then I go, I—I think I am safer away, as you are sure your husband will not take a hundred gold pieces to protect and save me.”
Gray glanced at the woman as he named the sum of money, to see what effect it had upon her, but there was nothing but a shudder of disgust, and he gave up all hope of purchasing safety from her.
Without another word, he cautiously opened the door, and listened. All was comparatively quiet, and he passed from the room.
In a moment he heard it locked behind him in the inside, and his place of refuge was at once cut off.
“Curses on her,” he muttered. “She may have no husband coming after all. What can I do to free myself from the mazes of these courts? Ada—Ada—if ever we meet again, I will have a deep—a bloody revenge on thee. Beware of Jacob Gray!”
He shook his clenched hand as he spoke, and ground his teeth with concentrated anger. The question now was whether to ascend or descend in the house, and after some moments of anxious consideration, he thought his better chance would be to descend, and make an effort to pass himself as one of the crowd which had come from the Strand in pursuit of the murderer.
He wiped the blood, as he thought, well from his hands, and the dust and mud from his face; then arranging his disordered apparel, he fancied he might pass muster without much suspicion, as he was confident none of those who followed him could have obtained more than a transitory glance at him.