Upon this Claudia commenced the narrative of her sufferings from the moment of parting with her father at Boston to the moment of meeting with him at Cameron Court. The reader is already acquainted with the story, and does not need to hear Claudia's narration. Judge Merlin also knew much of it; as much as old Katie had been able to impart to him; but he wished to hear a more intelligent version of it from his daughter. It was, as she had said, a long, sorrowful, terrible story; such as it was not in the nature of woman to recite calmly. Some parts of it were told with pale cheeks, faltering tones, and falling tears; other parts were told with fiery blushes, flashing eyes, and clenched hands.
At its conclusion Claudia said:
"There, papa, I have hidden nothing. I have told you everything. Now at last you will believe me when I tell you how perfectly relieved I feel only to be out of that purgatory—only to be away from those fiends! Now at last you will see how it is that I can say without ruth, 'Let Malcolm, Lord Vincent, have justice, though that justice consign him to penal servitude, or to the gallows!' But, papa, when I said I had no trouble left, I spoke in momentary forgetfulness of my poor servants; Heaven forgive me for it! Though, really, uncertainty about their fate is the only care I have."
"My dear," said the judge, who had comported himself with wonderful calmness through the trying hour of Claudia's narration; "my dear, cast that care to the winds. Your servants are safe and well and near at hand."
"'Safe and well, and near at hand!' Oh, papa, are you certain—quite certain?" exclaimed Claudia, in joy modified by doubt.
"Quite certain, my dearest, since I myself lodged them at Magruder's
Hotel this morning," said the judge.
"Oh, thank Heaven!" exclaimed Claudia fervently. "But, papa, tell me all about it. When, where, and how were they found?"
"About three weeks ago, in Havana, by Ishmael," answered the judge, speaking directly to the point.
His daughter looked so amazed that he hastened to say:
"It is easily understood, Claudia. You mentioned in the course of your narrative that you suspected the viscount of having spirited away the negroes. Your suspicion was correct. Through the agency of chloroform he abducted the negroes and got them on board a West Indian smuggler, that took them to Havana and sold them into slavery. When we went there on the 'Santiago,' we found, recognized, and recovered them."