And she thought of the dishonor this would reflect upon herself as his wife. And she shrunk shudderingly away from the burning shame of living on, the wife of a felon.

In the deep compassion she could not but feel for him, and in the intense mortification she anticipated for herself, she earnestly wished that in some manner he might escape the degrading penalty of his crimes.

In these harassing thoughts and distressing feelings Claudia lay tossing upon her restless bed until long after midnight, when at length she dropped into a deep and dreamless sleep.

Now the circumstance that I am about to relate will be interpreted in a different manner by different people. Rationalists who pin their faith on Sir Walter Scott and his "Demonology" will say it was only an optical illusion; the incredulous, who believe in nothing, will declare it was but a dream; while Spiritualists, who follow Mr.

Robert Dale Owen in his "Footprints on the Boundaries of Another World," will be ready to declare that it was the apparition of a spirit; I commit myself to no opinion on the subject.

But when Claudia had slept soundly for three hours she was aroused by hearing her name called; she awoke with a violent start; she sat upright in bed, and stared right before her with fixed eyes, pallid face, and immovable form, as though she were suddenly petrified.

For there at the foot of the bed, between the tall posts, in the division formed by the festoons of the curtains, stood the figure of the Viscount Vincent. His face was pale, still, stern, like that of a dead man; one livid hand clutched his breast, the other was stretched towards her; and from the cold, blue, motionless lips proceeded a voice hollow as the distant moan of the wintry wind through leafless woods:

"Claudia, the debt is paid!"

With these words the vision slowly dissolved to air. Then, and not until then, was the icy spell that bound all Claudia's faculties loosened. She uttered piercing shriek upon shriek that startled all the sleepers in the house, and brought them rushing into her room.

Katie and Sally being the nearest, were the first to enter.

"For Marster's sake, my ladyship, what is the matter?" inquired the old woman, while Sally stood by in a dumb terror.

"Oh, Katie, Katie! it was Lord Vincent! He has contrived to make his escape in some manner! He is out of prison! he is in this very house! he was in this room but a minute ago, though I do not see him now! and he spoke to me!"

"My goodness gracious me alibe, Miss Claudia, honey, it couldn't a been he! he's locked up safe in jail, you know! It mus' a been his sperrit!" said superstitious Katie, with the deepest awe.

"Claudia, my dearest, what is the matter? What is all this? What has happened?" anxiously inquired the Countess of Hurstmonceux, as, hastily wrapped in her dressing-gown, she hurried into the chamber and up to Claudia's bedside.

"Come closer, Berenice; stoop down; now listen! The viscount has broken prison! he was here but a moment ago! and he is gone! but his unexpected appearance in this place and at this hour, looking as he did so deathly pale, so livid and so corpse-like, frightened me nearly out of my senses, and I screamed with terror. I--I tremble even yet."

"My dearest Claudia, you have been dreaming. Compose yourself," said Lady Hurstmonceux soothingly.

"My dearest Berenice, it was no dream, believe me. I was indeed asleep, fast asleep; but I was awakened by hearing myself called by name--'Claudia, Claudia, Claudia,' three times. And I opened my eyes and sat up in bed, and saw standing at the foot, looking at me between the curtains, Lord Vincent."

At this moment Judge Merlin, in his dressing-gown and slippers, came slowly into the chamber, looking around in a bewildered way and saying:

"They told me the screams proceeded from my daughter's apartment.

What is the matter here? Claudia, my dear, what has happened? What has frightened you?" he inquired, approaching her bedside.

"Oh, my poor papa, have you been disturbed, too? How sorry I am!"

said Claudia.

"Never mind me, my dear! What has happened to you?"

"Lady Vincent has been frightened by a disagreeable dream, sir,"

replied Lady Hurstmonceux, answering for her friend.

"My dear lady, you here!" exclaimed the judge, seeing her for the first time since he entered the room.

"I am a light sleeper," smiled the countess.

"I am very sorry, papa, that I aroused the house in this manner,"

said Claudia, with real regret in her tone.

"It was not like you to do so, for a dream, my dear," replied the judge gravely.

"It was no dream, papa! it was no dream, as the result will prove."

"What was it then, my dear?"

"It was the Viscount Vincent!"

"The Viscount Vincent!" exclaimed the judge, in astonishment.

"Yes, papa; he has contrived to escape and to enter this house and this very room. It was his sudden appearance that frightened me into the screaming fit that alarmed the household; and for which I am very sorry."

"The Viscount Vincent here! But how on earth could he have escaped from prison?"

"I do not know, papa. I only know by the evidence of my own senses that he has done so."

"My dearest Claudia, believe me, you have been dreaming. Judge Merlin, if you knew the great strength and security of our prisons, you would also know how impossible it would be for any prisoner to escape," said Lady Hurstmonceux, addressing in turn the father and the daughter.

"Berenice, that I have not been dreaming to-morrow will show. For to-morrow you and all concerned will know that Lord Vincent has escaped from prison. But my dear Berenice, and you, my dearest father, promise to me one thing; promise me not to give Lord Vincent up to justice; but to suffer him to get away from the country, if he can do so. That is doubtless all that he proposes to himself to do.

And such exile will be punishment enough in itself for him, especially as it will involve the resignation of his rank, title, and inheritance. So let him get away if he can. He can work no further woe for me. Frisbie's dying confession has killed off all his calumnies against me. He is harmless henceforth. So leave him to God," pleaded Claudia.

"I am willing to do, or leave undone, whatever you please, my dear; but--do you really think that you actually did see the viscount, and that you did not only dream of seeing him?" inquired the judge, unable to get over his amazement.

"Yes, papa; I saw him; and to-morrow will prove that I did so," said Claudia emphatically.

Lady Hurstmonceux smiled incredulously, for she did not reflect that there were more ways than one of breaking out of prison.

"But supposing it to have been the viscount; and supposing that he had succeeded in bursting locks and bars and eluding guards and sentinels; why should he have come here, of all places in the world?

What could have been his motive in so risking a recapture?" inquired the judge, who seemed inclined to investigate the affair then and there.

"I do not know, papa. I have not had time to think. I was so astonished and even frightened at his mere appearance that I never asked myself the reason of it," answered Claudia.

"Did you not ask him?"

"No, papa. I only screamed."

"Did he not speak to you?"

"Yes, papa."

"What did he say?"

"Papa, I had better tell you just how it happened," answered Claudia, giving the judge a detailed account of the dream, vision, or ghost, as the reader chooses to call it; but which she persisted in declaring to be the viscount himself in the flesh.

"It is most extraordinary! How did he get out? Lady Hurstmonceux, had we not better have the house searched for him?" inquired the judge.

"It shall be done if you please, judge; though I think it unnecessary."