"Senor, it is impossible for me to do so," very gravely replied Don Filipo.

"But, my dear sir, pray reflect. You have actually disbursed a large sum of money in the purchase of this boy. I do but offer you your own. I pray you accept it."

"It is impossible, senor," very, very gravely replied the Spaniard.

And at that moment Judge Merlin caught the eye of Ishmael fixed upon him with an anxious gaze. This gaze caused Judge Merlin to glance up at the face of his interlocutor.

The countenance of Don Filipo had assumed a severe and haughty aspect, although his words and tones were still courteous and gentle, as he repeated:

"It is impossible, senor."

And then Judge Merlin seemed to understand that to continue to press money upon this proud old Castilian nobleman would be simply to insult him.

With a deep bow, he said:

"I yield the point to you, Senor Don Filipo. And must remain your debtor for this great favor."

The stern face of the old Castilian melted into a fascinating smile, as he offered his hand to the judge, and said courteously:

"I esteem myself happy in being able to restore to the senor his slave. The boy is absent now exercising my favorite saddle horse; but as soon as he returns he shall be sent to the senor."

Our party then arose to depart; but Don Filipo would not allow them to go before they had partaken of a tempting repast of cakes, fruits, sweetmeats, and wine.

Then, with a real regret at parting with this "fine old Spanish gentleman," they took leave and returned to their hotel.

In the course of the afternoon Jim arrived in the custody of Don Filipo's steward, and was regularly delivered over to the safe- keeping of Judge Merlin.

The meeting of poor Jim with his old master and friends, and with his mother and his sweetheart, was at once so touching and so absurd, that it inclined the spectator at the same time to tears and laughter.

"Now," said Judge Merlin, as they sat together in his rooms that evening, "our work is over. And this is Tuesday evening, and we cannot sail until Saturday morning! What the deuce shall we do with the three intervening days?"

"To-morrow," answered Ishmael, "we had better see to providing ourselves with an outfit for the voyage. Remember that since our wardrobe was lost on the 'Oceana,' we have had nothing but the single change provided us by the captain of the 'Santiago.'"

"True, we must have an outfit. The purchase of that will occupy one day; but there will be still two left to dispose of."

"On Thursday we can spend the morning in seeing whatever is interesting in the city and its suburbs, and in the evening you know we are engaged to dine with Mr. Tourneysee."

"Exactly! But what shall we do on Friday?"

"Continue our sight-seeing through the city in the morning, and have Mr. Tourneysee and the Senor Don----"

"Et cetera, to dine with us in the evening. Is that what you mean, Ishmael?"

"Yes, sir."

"That will do then. Now we will go to bed," said the judge, rising and taking his bedroom candle.

And that was the signal for the party to disperse and go to rest.

The remainder of the week was passed in the manner sketched out by Ishmael. Nevertheless the three days of waiting seemed to the anxious father of Claudia three years in length. On Saturday morning our whole party, consisting now of three gentlemen and four servants, embarked on the "Cadiz" for Europe.

Mr. Tourneysee and Don Filipo "Et cetera," as the judge called him, accompanied them to the steamer, and remained with them to the latest possible moment. Then with many fervent wishes for their prosperity in the voyage, the two gentlemen took leave of our party and went on shore. The steamer sailed at nine o'clock. When it was well under way Ishmael looked around among his fellow-passengers, and was pleased to recognize many of the companions of his disastrous voyage on the "Oceana." Among the others was the family of Dr. Kerr. Later in the day, as Ishmael and his shadow, the professor, were standing leaning over the bulwarks of the ship and watching the setting sun sink into the water, leaving a trail of light upon the surface of the sea, he heard a familiar voice exclaim:

"Fader Abraham! Tere ish tat yunk shentleman ant hish olt man again!"

And Ishmael turned and saw the German Jew standing near him. Ishmael smiled and held out his hand; and Isaacs came and grasped it, expressing his pleasure in having "von drue shentleman" for his fellow-passenger once more. And from this day quite a friendship grew up between the young Christian and the old Jew. Without making the least effort to do so, Ishmael won his entire confidence.

Isaacs, reserved and uncommunicative with everyone else, seemed to find pleasure in talking to Ishmael.

Among other voluntary revelations, Isaacs informed Ishmael that he was going to England to see his niece, who was "von gread laty." She was the daughter, he said, of his only sister, who had been the wife of a rich English Jew. She had married an Englishman of high rank; but her husband, as well as her father and mother, was dead; all were dead; and she was living in widowhood and loneliness; and, ah!

a great wrong had been done her! And here the Jew would sigh dismally and shake his head.

Now Ishmael, in the delicacy of his nature, would receive all the Jew's voluntary communications and sympathize with all his complaints, without ever asking him a question. And thus, as the Jew never happened to mention the name of his niece, and Ishmael never inquired it, he remained in ignorance of it.

The voyage of the "Cadiz," considering the season of the year, might be said to have been very prosperous. The weather continued clear, with a light wind from the northwest, alternating with calms. Our party having served out their time at seasickness on the "Oceana,"

were not called to suffer any more from that malady on this voyage.

On the fourteenth day out they arrived at Cadiz, whence they took a steamer bound for Liverpool, where they landed on the first of February, late in the night.

They went to a hotel to spend the remaining hours in sleep. And the next morning, after a hurried breakfast, eaten by candlelight, they took the express train for Edinboro'.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

CLAUDIA AT CAMERON COURT.

Sweet are the paths--oh, passing sweet, By Esk's fair streams that run O'er airy steep, thro' copsewood deep, Impervious to the sun.

There the rapt poet's step may rove, And yield the muse the day; There beauty led by timid love May shun the tell-tale ray.

--_Scott_.

Cameron Court, the favorite seat of Berenice, Countess of Hurstmonceux, was situated about seven miles south of Edinboro', on the north banks of the Esk. It was an elegant modern edifice, raised upon the ruins of an ancient castle, overhanging a perpendicular precipice, with a sheer descent of several hundred feet to the river. It looked down upon the course of the Esk, winding between rocks of lofty height, whose sides were fringed with a tangled mass of shrubs, ferns, and thistles, and whose summits were crowned with thickets of hazel, pine, and birch. On still higher ground, behind the house, and sheltering it from the northern blast, stood a thick wood of cedar, beech, and fir trees. Many winding footpaths led through this wood, and down the rocks and along the edge of the river. A wilder, more picturesque and romantic spot could scarcely have been found for a dwelling-place.

In summer, green with foliage, bright with blooming flowers, and musical with singing birds and purling brooks, it was beautiful! But in winter, bound in ice, mantled with snow, and gemmed with frost, it was sublime!

Such was the aspect of the place without; while within were collected all the comforts, luxuries, and elegances that wealth, taste, and intellect could command.

Within a short distance of this charming residence stood Craigmillar Castle, an old ruin, memorable from having been the first residence of Mary Queen of Scots after her return from France; and also her favorite retreat when driven to seek repose from the clashing antagonisms of her court at Holyrood.

Nearer still, on the banks of the Esk, stood Roslyn Castle and Chapel, famous in song and story for "the lordly line of high St.

Clair"; and Hawthornden, remarkable for its enormous artificial caves, hewn out of the solid foundation rocks, and used as a place of refuge during the barbarous wars of by-gone ages; and many other interesting monuments of history and tradition.

To this attractive home Lady Hurstmonceux had brought Claudia late one winter afternoon.

At that hour, between the thickness of the Scotch mist and the low, gathering shadows of the night, but little could be seen or surmised of the scenery surrounding the house.