"You are an orphan?" "Aye, me leddy." "Then you must really tell me what is the matter with you, my poor child; I will help you if I can." "Indeed I canna tell you, my leddy. Your leddyship maun please to forgi'e me, and not mind me greeting. It's just naething; it's ony a way I ha'e." And this was all that Claudia could get out of this poor girl. Once she inquired of Mrs. Murdock: "What ails Ailsie Dunbar? Her looks trouble me." "Indeed, me leddy, I dinna ken. The lassie is greeting fra morning till night, and will na gie onybody ony satisfaction about it! But I will try to find out." And that was all Lady Vincent could get out of the housekeeper. The month of November crept slowly by. And December came, darker, duller, drearier than its predecessor. And now anxiety was added to Claudia's other troubles. She had not heard from her father. The monotony, deepened by suspense, grew horrible. She wished for an earthquake, or an inundation--anything to break the dreadful spell that bound her, to burst the tomb of her buried life and let in air and light. Sometimes she overheard the precious pair of friends who shared her home murmuring their sinful nonsense together; and she was disgusted. And sometimes she heard them in angry and jealous altercation; and she grew insane, and wished from the bottom of her heart that one might murder the other, if it were only to break the horrible monotony of the castle life, by bringing into it the rabble rout of inspectors, constables, coroners, and juries. At length there came a day when that frenzied wish was gratified. CHAPTER XX A LINK IN CLAUDIA'S FATE. For who knew, she thought, what the amazement, The irruption of clatter and blaze meant. And if, in this minute of wonder, No outlet 'mid lightning and thunder, Lay broad and her shackles all shivered, The captive at length was delivered? --_Robert Browning._ Claudia had awakened one morning with one of those nervous headaches that were becoming habitual to her. She had taken a narcotic sedative and gone to sleep again, and slept throughout the day. It was night when she awoke again, and became immediately conscious of an unusual commotion in the castle--a commotion that reached her ears, even over the thick drugget with which the stairs and halls were covered, and through the strong doors and heavy hangings with which her chamber was protected. Whether it was this disturbance that had broken her rest, she did not really know. She listened intently. There was a swift and heavy running to and fro, and a confusion of tongues, giving voices in mingled tones of fear, grief, rage, consternation, expostulation, and every key of passionate emotion and excitement.