"Papa, what I paid down my liberty for—this rank, I mean—is safe! And so whether he goes or stays I am Lady Vincent; and nothing but death can prevent my becoming Countess of Hurstmonceux and a peeress of England," said Claudia defiantly, as she arose and drew her shawl around her shoulders and looked about herself.
"What is it that you want, my dear?" inquired the judge.
"Nothing. I was taking a view of the old familiar objects. How much has happened since I saw them last. It seems to me as if many years had passed since that time. Well, papa, I suppose Ruth has unpacked and put away my clothes by this time, and so I will leave you for the present."
And with a weary, listless air Claudia left the room and turned to go upstairs.
"Not there, not there, my dear, I told you. The rooms on this floor have been prepared for you," said the judge, who had followed her to the door.
With a sigh Claudia turned and crossed the hall and entered the "parlor-chamber," as the large bedroom adjoining the morning room was called.
Ruth was hanging the last dresses in the wardrobe, and Jim was shouldering the last empty trunk to take it away.
"I have left out the silver gray glace, for you to wear this evening, if you please, my lady," said Ruth, indicating the dress that lay upon the bed.
"That will do, Ruth," answered her mistress, whose thoughts were now not on dresses, but on that time when Ishmael, for her sake, lay wounded, bleeding, and almost dying on that very bed.
CHAPTER IX.
HOLIDAY.
Ha! like a kind hand on my brow
Comes this fresh breeze.
Cooling its dull and feverish glow,
While through my being seems to flow
She breath of a new life—the healing of the seas.
Good-by to pain and care! I take
Mine ease to-day;
Here where these sunny waters break,
And ripples this keen breeze. I shake
All burdens from the heart, all weary thoughts away.
With every nerve, vein, and artery throbbing with excitement Ishmael hurried away from the house that contained Claudia.
The solitary walk through the thick woods calmed his emotion before he reached Woodside.
He found a tidy room, a tempting tea-table, and smiling faces waiting to welcome him.
"That's my boy!" exclaimed Reuben, coming forward and grasping his hand; "I telled Hannah to keep the tea back a spell, 'cause I knowed you wouldn't disappoint us."
"As if I ever thought you would, Ishmael! Reuben is always prophesying things that can't fail to come true, like the rising of the sun in the east every day, and so forth. And he expects to get credit for his foresight," said Hannah, taking her seat before the steaming tea-pot and calling upon the others to sit down.
"Well, that was rayther a surprise, as met you and the judge, when you comed home from church, wasn't it?" inquired Reuben, as he began to cut slices from the cold ham.
"You knew of the arrival, then?" questioned Ishmael.
"Why, bless you, yes! Why, laws, you know the carriage passed right by here, and stopped to water the horses afore going on to Tanglewood. But look here! There was nobody in it but Mrs. Vincent—blame my head—I mean Mrs. Lord Vincent—and her city maid."
"Lady Vincent, Reuben. How many times will I have to tell you that?" said Hannah impatiently.
"All right, Hannah, my dear; I'll remember next time. Ishmael, my boy, I think you got all your interlects from Hannah. You sartainly didn't get 'em from me. Well as I was a-saying of, there was no one inside except Mrs. Lord—I mean Mrs. Lady Vincent and her city waiting-maid. And on the outside, a-sitting alongside o' the driver, was a gentleman, as Jim as happened to be here introduced to me as Mr. Frisbie, Lord Vincent's vallysham, whatever that may be."
"Body-servant, Reuben," said his monitress.
"Servant! Well, if he was a servant, I don't know nothink! Why, there ain't a gentleman in S'Mary's county as dresses as fine and puts on as many airs!"
"That is quite likely, Uncle Reuben; but for all that, Frisbie is
Lord Vincent's servant," said Ishmael.
"Well, hows'ever that may be, there he was alongside o' the driver. But what staggers of me is, that there wa'n't no Lord Vincent nowhere to be seen! He was 'mong the missin'. And that was the rummest go as ever was. A new bride a-comin' home to her 'pa without no bridegroom. And so I jest axed Mr. Frisbie, Esquire, and he telled me how his lordship missed the trail. What trail! And what business had he to be offen the trail, when his wife was on it? That's what I want to know. And, anyways, it's the rummest go as ever was. Did you hear anythink about it, Ishmael?"
"I chanced to overhear Lady Vincent say to her father—that she was alone. That was all. I did not even see her ladyship."
"Well, now, that's another rum go. Didn't wait to see her. And you sich friends? Owtch! Oh! Ah! What's that for, Hannah? You've trod on my toe and ground it a'most to powder! Ah!"
"If your foot is as soft as your head, no wonder every touch hurts it!" snapped Mrs. Gray.
"Law, what a temper she have got, Ishmael!" said poor Reuben, carressing his afflicted foot.
Hannah had effected the diversion she intended, and soon after gave the signal for rising from the table. And she took good care during the rest of the evening that the subject of Lord and Lady Vincent should not be brought upon the tapis.
The next morning being Monday, Ishmael accompanied Reuben in his rounds over his own little farm and the great Tanglewood estate, to see the improvements. The "durrum" cow and calf and the "shank-bye" fowls received due notice. And the first ripe bunches of the "hamburg" grapes were plucked in the visitor's honor.
In the afternoon they went down to the oyster banks and amused themselves with watching Sam rake the oysters and load the cart.
They returned to a late tea.
It was while they were sitting out on the vine-shaded porch, enjoying their usual evening chat under the star-lit sky, that they heard the sound of approaching wheels.
And a few moments afterwards a carriage drew up at the gate.
Reuben walked up to see who was within it. And Ishmael heard the voice of Lord Vincent inquiring:
"Is this the best road to Tanglewood?"
"Well, yes, sir; I do s'pose it's the best, if any can be called the best where none on 'em is good, but every one on 'em as bad as bad can be!" was the encouraging answer.
"Drive on!" said Lord Vincent. And the carriage rolled out of sight into the forest road.
After all, then, the viscount had not absconded. He probably had missed the train. But why had he missed it? That was still the question.
On Tuesday morning Ishmael took leave of Hannah and Reuben, promising to stop and spend another day and night with them on his return to Washington; and mounted on a fine horse, borrowed from Reuben, with his knapsack behind him, he started for the Beacon.
It was yet early in the forenoon when he arrived at that cool promontory where the refreshing