ut I must get him to Hannah
first! I must indeed!" And with that Reuben put whip to his horse and
rode away; but in a moment he wheeled again and rode back to the
fishermen, saying:

"Hallo, Simpson! are you going past our place?"

"Yes," replied the man.

"Well, then, mind and don't breathe a word about Ishmael's accident to
Hannah, or to anybody about the place as might tell her; because she's
very ill, and the shock might be her death, you know," said Reuben
anxiously.

"All right! we'll be careful," replied the man. And Reuben rode off.

He was so fortunate as to find Dr. Jarvis at his office and get him to
come immediately to Woodside. But not until the doctor had seen Hannah
and had given her a little medicine, and declared that his farther
services would not be required by her for several hours yet, did Reuben
mention to him the other case that awaited his attention at Tanglewood.
And Dr. Jarvis, with a movement of impatience at the unnecessary delay,
hurried thither.

CHAPTER XLII.

ISHMAEL AT TANGLEWOOD.

There was an ancient mansion, and before
Its walls there was a steed caparisoned.
Within an antique oratory lay
The boy of whom I spake; he was alone,
And pale and tossing to and fro....

--_Byron_.

Meanwhile the carriage traveling slowly reached Tanglewood. Slowly
pacing up and down the long piazza in front of the house was Judge
Merlin. He was a rather singular-looking man of about forty-five years
of age. He was very tall, thin, and bony, with high aquiline features,
dark complexion, and iron-gray hair, which he wore long and parted in
the middle. He was habited in a loose jacket, vest, and trousers of
brown linen, and wore a broad-brimmed straw hat on his head, and large
slippers, down at the heel, on his feet. He carried in his hand a
lighted pipe of common clay, and he walked with a slow, swinging gait,
and an air of careless indifference to all around him. Altogether, he
presented the idea of a civilized Indian chief, rather than that of a
Christian gentleman. Tradition said that the blood of King Powhatan
flowed in Randolph Merlin's veins, and certainly his personal
appearance, character, tastes, habits, and manners favored the legend.

On seeing the carriage approach he had taken the clay pipe from his
mouth and sauntered forward. On seeing the strange burden that his
daughter supported in her arms, he came down to the side of the
carriage, exclaiming:

"Who have