“And now,” said Ada, “by force or fraud I am to be kept here. Jacob Gray, I will not swear faith to thee.” “You will not?” “I will not.” “Girl, you are mad—you know not what you do. This is a device of mine to save your life—to place you above the reach of fortune’s malice.” “Answer me one thing, and call on Heaven to witness your truth,” said Ada. “Are you father, uncle, or nothing else?” “Will you swear as I bid you?” “I cannot resign the dear hope of escape,” said Ada. “Escape,” replied Gray, “is impossible. The dungeon from which I have even now brought you is inaccessible save by the means in my power. For my own safety, I must keep you a prisoner, or—or—” “Or murder me, you would say. Jacob Gray, I think you dare not kill me.” “Dare not?” said Gray, trembling. “Yes; dare not were my words. Now, I will make to you a proposal. Trust me; tell me all, who and what I am. Tell me all, and I will forgive injuries, and perchance do your bidding.” “No, no, I cannot tell you yet,” said Gray. “I wish you one day to know all—when I have my gold.” “Am I to be the slave of your avarice?” “Call it so, if you will.” “Who am I?” “I cannot tell you.” “Who were those men who sought your life? Was the name of one Andrew Britton.” Gray absolutely shrieked as Ada pronounced the name of the smith, which it will be recollected she had heard from Mad Maud on Westminster-bridge. “A—what is this—what do you mean? Who—what devil told you—speak—Ada—speak. Have the—the dead risen? Speak, or you will drive me mad!” CHAPTER XXV. Ada’s Appeal.—The Promise.—Ada’s Despair.—Gray’s Triumph. Ada had seen too often the nervous terrors of Jacob Gray to feel much alarm at his present emotion, and she merely replied,—