“The same.”
“And of a young girl, say you—pale and noble, with a look of gentleness, yet pride—a—brow of snow—long raven hair?”
“The—the same—you have seen it, Jacob Gray—you have seen it—you are cursed as well as I.”
“In a dream,” muttered Gray.
“Only a dream? I saw it on a bright morning when all was light and life around.”
“Was that recently?” said Gray.
“This very morning.”
Gray would have given much at that moment to be able to ask with unconcern where Learmont had seen Ada, for that it was she he did not entertain a shadow of a doubt, but it was several minutes before he could command his voice sufficiently to say,—
“Where saw you this appearance?”
“Where all my fears are concentrated—where my worst foe resides—I saw it at the window of Sir Francis Hartleton’s house from the park.”