"It was Claudia!" cried the judge, in an ear-piercing voice, jumping at once at the most improbable conclusion, as he started up, pale as death, and gazed with breathless anxiety upon the grave face of Ishmael.
"No, Judge Merlin," answered the young man, as he gently replaced him in his seat; "no, it was not Lady Vincent; but it is one who, I hope, can give us later news of her."
"Who—who was it then?" gasped the old man, trembling violently.
Ishmael poured out a glass of water and handed it to the judge, saying calmly:
"It was old Katie whom I met."
"Katie!" cried the judge, in astonishment, and holding the glass of water suspended in his hand.
"Katie. But drink your water, Judge Merlin; it will refresh you."
"Katie! But where is her mistress?" demanded the old man, in burning anxiety.
"I do not know, sir; Katie was too much excited by the shock of her meeting with me and hearing that you were on the island to give any coherent account of herself."
"But—how came she here if not in attendance upon her mistress? And—what should have brought Claudia here?—unless she should have been on her voyage home to me, and got wrecked and brought here, as we have been, which is not likely."