?" inquired Ishmael.

"No, my lad. The judge never comes down by any of these little sailing
packets as pass here. He allers comes by the steamboat to Baymouth, and
then from there to here by land."

"Then had you not better send the carriage to Baymouth immediately, that
it may be there in time to meet him? It will be more comfortable for the
judge and--and Miss--and his daughter to travel in their own easy
carriage than in those rough village hacks."

"Well, now, Ishmael, that's a rale good idee, and I'll follow it, and
the judge will thank you for it. If he'd took a thought, you see, he'd
a-gin me the order to do just that thing. But law! he's so took up along
of public affairs, as he never thinks of his private comfort, though he
is always pleased as possible when anybody thinks of it for him."

"Then, Uncle Reuben, had you not better start Sam with the carriage this
evening? It is a very clear night, the roads are excellent, and the
horses are fresh; so he could easily reach Baymouth by sunrise, and put
up at the 'Planter's Rest,' for Sunday, and wait there for the boat."

"Yes, Ishmael, I think I had better do so; we'll go home now directly
and start Sam. He'll be pleased to death! If there's anything that
nigger likes, it's a journey, particular through the cool of the night;
but he'll sleep all day to-morrow to make up for his lost rest,"
returned Reuben, as they turned to walk back to the cottage.

Sam was found loitering near the front gate. When told what he was to
do, he grinned and started with alacrity to put the horses to the
carriage and prepare the horse feed to take along with him.

And meanwhile Hannah packed a hamper full of food and drink to solace
the traveler on his night journey.

In half an hour from his first notice to go, Sam drove the carriage up
to the cottage gate, received his hamper of provisions and his final
orders, and departed.

Hannah and Reuben, leaning over the gate, watched him out of sight, and
then sat down in front of their cottage door, to enjoy the coolness of
the summer evening, and talk of the judge's expected arrival.

Ishmael went up to his room, lighted a candle, and sat down to try to
compose his agitated heart and apply his mind to study. But in vain; his
eyes wandered over the pages of his book; his mind could not take in the
meaning. The thought of Claudia filled his whole soul, absorbed his
every faculty to the exclusion of every other idea.

"Oh, this w