"Papa, no! he went as he came. Let him go. I hope he will be clear of the country before to-morrow morning."

At this moment the clock struck five, although it was still pitch- dark and far from the dawn of day.

"There! I declare it is to-morrow morning already, as the Irish would say. Lady Hurstmonceux, do not let me keep you up any longer.

I know your usual hour for rising at this season of the year is eight o'clock. You will have three good hours' sleep before you yet.

Papa, dear, go to bed or you will make yourself ill."

"Are you sure you will not have anything before I go, Claudia?"

inquired the countess.

"Nothing whatever, dear; I think I shall sleep."

Lady Hurstmonceux stooped and kissed her friend, and then, with a smile and a bow to the judge, she retired from the room.

"Do you think now that you will rest, Claudia?" inquired the judge.

"Yes, papa, yes. Go to rest yourself."

He also stooped and kissed her, and then left the chamber.

"Go to bed, Katie and Sally," said Claudia to her women.

"'Deed 'fore de Lord aint I gwine to no bed to leabe you here by yourse'f. I don't want you to see no more sperrits," replied Katie.

And she left the room for a few minutes and returned dragging in her mattress, which she spread upon the floor, and upon which she threw herself to sleep for the remainder of the dark hours.

Lady Vincent submitted to this intrusion, because she knew it would be utterly useless to expostulate. But Sally began to whimper.

"Now, den, what de matter long o' you? You seen a sperrit too?"

demanded Katie.

"I's feared to sleep by myse'f, for fear I should see somethin',"

wept Sally.

"Den you lay down here by me," ordered Katie.

And thus it was that Lady Vincent's two women shared her sleeping room the remainder of that disturbed night--to be disturbed no longer; for, whether it was owing to the presence of the negroes or not, Claudia slept untroubled by dream, vision, or apparition, until the daylight streaming through one window, that had been left unclosed, awakened her.

It was ten o'clock, however, before the family assembled at the breakfast table, where they were engaged in discussing the affair of the previous night, and in each maintaining his or her own opinion as to its character; Claudia persisting that it was the Viscount Vincent in person that she had seen; Berenice contending that it was a dream; and the judge hesitating between two opinions; Ishmael silent.

"A very few hours will now decide the question," said Claudia, abandoning the discussion and beginning to chip her egg. At this moment came a sound of wheels on the drive before the house, followed by a loud knock at the door.

"There! I should not in the least wonder if that is a detachment of police coming to tell us that Lord Vincent has broken prison, and bringing a warrant to search this house for him," said Claudia, half rising to listen.

A servant entered the room and said:

"Sergeant McRae is out in the hall, asking to see his honor the judge."

"I thought so," said Claudia briskly.

The judge went out to see the sergeant of police.

Claudia and Berenice suspended their breakfast, and waited in intense anxiety the result of the interview.

Some little time elapsed, perhaps fifteen or twenty minutes, though the impatience of the ladies made it seem an hour in length; and then the door slowly opened and the judge gravely re-entered the breakfast room.

"It is as I said. The Viscount Vincent has broken jail and they have come here with a search warrant to look for him!" exclaimed Claudia, glancing up at her father as he approached; but when she saw the expression of profound melancholy in his countenance, she started, turned pale, and cried:

"Good Heaven, papa, what--what has happened?"

"Partly what you have anticipated, Claudia. The Viscount Vincent has broken out of prison, but not in the manner you supposed," solemnly replied the judge, taking his daughter's arm and leading her to a sofa and seating her upon it.

Lady Hurstmonceux, startled, anxious, and alarmed, followed and stood by her and held her hand. And both ladies gazed inquiringly into the disturbed face of the old man.

"There is something--something behind! What is it, papa? The viscount has broken jail, you say! Has he--has he--killed one of the guards in making his escape?" inquired Claudia, in a low, awe- stricken voice.

"No, my dear, he has not done that. He has escaped the tribunal of man to rush uncalled to the tribunal of God," said the judge solemnly.

Claudia, though her dilated eyes were fixed in eager questioning on the face of her father, and though her ears were strained to catch his low-toned words, yet did not seem to gather in his meaning.

"What--what do you say, papa? Explain!" she breathed in scarcely audible syllables.

"The Viscount Vincent is dead!"

"Dead!" ejaculated Claudia.

"Dead!" echoed the countess.

"Dead, by his own act!" repeated the judge.

Claudia sank back in the corner of the sofa and covered her face with her hands--overcome, not by sorrow certainly, but by awe and pity.

Berenice sat down beside the newly made widow, and put her arms around her waist, and drew her head upon her bosom. Judge Merlin stood silently before them. The only one who seemed to have the full possession of his faculties was Ishmael.

He quietly dismissed the gaping servants from the room, closed the doors, and drew a resting-chair to the side of his old friend, and gently constrained him to sit down in it. And then he was about to glide away when the judge seized his hand and detained him, saying imploringly:

"No, no, Ishmael! no, no, my dearest young friend! do not leave us at this solemn crisis."

Ishmael placed his hand in that of the old man, as an earnest of fidelity, and remained standing by him.

After a little while Claudia lifted her head from the bosom of Lady Hurstmonceux, and said:

"Oh, papa, this is dreadful!"

"Dreadful, indeed, my dear."

"That any human being should be driven to such a fate!"

"To such a crime, Claudia," gravely amended the judge.