"I have something yet to do, before I return home," smiled Ishmael, with a quick and quickly withdrawn glance in the direction of the countess; "but I shall do it before we go, or if not I can remain behind for another steamer."
"No, no, Ishmael! You have stayed long with us; we will wait for you. What do you say, Claudia?"
Claudia said nothing.
Ishmael replied:
"I shall endeavor to accomplish all that I propose in time to accompany you, Judge Merlin. But if I should not be able to do so, still I think that you had better all go by the first steamer in which you can get a passage. You should, if possible, cross the ocean before March sets in, if you would have anything like a comfortable voyage."
"Heavens, yes! you are right, Ishmael. Our late voyage should teach me a lesson. I must not expose Claudia to the chances of such shipwreck as we suffered," said the judge gravely.
Ishmael turned and looked at Claudia. She had not once spoken since her name had been introduced into the conversation. She had sat there with her elbow on the table and her head bowed upon her hand, in mournful silence. She was looking perfectly beautiful in her widow's dress and cap—perfectly beautiful with that last divine, perfecting touch that sorrow gives to beauty. Surely Ishmael thought so as he looked at her. She lifted her drooping lids. Their eyes met; hers were suffused with tears; his were full of earnest sympathy.
"You shall not be exposed to shipwreck, Lady Vincent," he said, in a voice rich with tenderness.
Slowly and mournfully she shook her head.
"There are other wrecks," she said: