"When will you see him again, sir?" anxiously inquired Claudia.
"In the course of the evening. I am not going back home for some hours, perhaps not for the night; I have a case at Gray's."
"Indeed! that is the reason, then, I suppose, why no one has answered my message to come up and see Ishmael. But who is sick there?" inquired Claudia.
"Mrs. Gray. Good-afternoon, Miss Merlin," said the doctor shortly, as he walked out of the house attended by the judge.
Claudia went to the door of Ishmael's room and rapped softly.
Old Katie answered the summons.
"Can I come in now, Katie?" asked Miss Merlin, a little impatiently.
"Oh, yes, I s'pose so; I s'pose you'd die if you didn't!" answered this privileged old servant, holding open the door for Claudia's admittance.
She passed softly into the darkened room, and approached the bedside. Ishmael lay there swathed in linen bandages and extended at full length, more like a shrouded corpse than a living boy. His eyes were closed and his face was livid.
"Is he asleep?" inquired Claudia, in a tone scarcely above her breath.