And old Katie took that opportunity to slip out and eat her "bit of dinner," leaving Claudia watching. At the expiration of an hour Katie returned to her post. But Claudia did not therefore quit hers. She remained seated beside the wounded boy. All that day he lay quietly, under the influence of morphia. Once the judge looked in to inquire the state of the patient, and on being told that the boy still slept, he went off again. Late in the afternoon the doctor came again, saw that his patient was at ease, left directions for his treatment, and then prepared to depart. "How is the sick woman at Gray's?" inquired Claudia. "Extremely ill. I am going immediately back there to remain until it is over; if I should be particularly wanted here, send there for me," said the doctor. "Yes; but I am very sorry Mrs. Gray is so ill! She is Ishmael's aunt. What is the matter with her?" "Humph!" answered the doctor. "Good-night, Miss Claudia. You will know where to send for me, if I am wanted here." "Yes; but I am so sorry about Gray's wife! Is she in danger?" persisted Claudia. "Yes." "I am very sorry; but what ails her?" persevered Claudia. "Good-evening, Miss Merlin," replied the doctor, lifting his hat and departing. "The man is half asleep; he has not answered my question," grumbled Claudia, as she returned to her seat by the sick-bed. Just then the bell rung for the late dinner, and Claudia went out and crossed the hall to the dining room, where she joined her father. And while at dinner she gave him a more detailed account of her late danger, and the manner in which she was saved. Once more in the course of that evening Claudia looked in upon the wounded boy, to ascertain his condition before retiring to her room. He was still sleeping. "If he should wake up, you must call me, no matter what time of night it is, Katie," said Miss Merlin, as she left the sick-chamber. "Yes, miss," answered Katie, who nevertheless made up her mind to use her own discretion in the matter of obedience to this order. Claudia Merlin was not, as Ishmael was, of a religious disposition, yet nevertheless before she retired to bed she did kneel and pray for his restoration to life and health; for, somehow, the well-being of the peasant youth was very precious to the heiress. Claudia could not sleep; she lay tumbling and tossing upon a restless and feverish couch. The image of that mangled and bleeding youth as she first saw him on the river bank was ever before her. The gaze of his intensely earnest eyes as he raised them to hers, when he inquired, "Are you safe?"--and the deep smile of joy with which they closed again when she answered, "I am safe"--haunted her memory and troubled her spirit. Those looks, those tones, had made a revelation to Claudia!--That the peasant boy presumed to love her!--her! Claudia Merlin, the heiress, angel-born, who scarcely deemed there was in all democratic America a fitting match for her!