“Ada was her name?”
“It was, sir.”
“Why does this cold shudder come over me?” muttered Learmont as he trembled in his chair.
“But the most strange circumstance of all,” continued Albert, “connected with the affair, was that this man Gray—”
A cry arose from Learmont that startled Albert to his feet in a moment, and with pale, ghastly features and distorted lips, the squire stood opposite to him, glaring in his face with distended eyes and such an awful expression, that step by step, the young man went backwards towards the door, for the thought flashed across his mind that his patron was a madman.
CHAPTER LXXX.
The Unfortunate Confidence of Albert Seyton.—Learmont’s Promises and Treachery.
When Albert Seyton got near the door, Learmont cried in a harsh voice,—
“Stop, stop—’twas only a passing spasm, I am subject to them, very subject to them. Come back, young sir, come back.”
He reeled a step or two as he spoke, and then sunk into a chair, muttering,—