"Oh, sir, you may be sure I shan't think of anything else all day, nor dream of anything else all night. To think of my seeing the Tower of London! Well, sir, good-by! And the Lord bless you and give you a pleasant journey," said the professor as he handed his master's hat. CHAPTER XXII ISHMAEL'S VISIT TO BEE. Thank Heaven my first love failed, As every first love should. --_Palmore_. Ishmael mounted and rode off, calling only at the hotel to say good- by to the judge and renew his promise of a punctual return. Then he galloped blithely away; crossed the beautiful Anacostia, by the Navy Yard bridge; and gayly took the road to the old St. Mary's. Gayly? Yes, gayly, notwithstanding all. To be sure he was sorry for Claudia; and he proved it by consenting, at a great sacrifice of his personal interests, to cross the ocean and go to her assistance. But he had faith in the doctrine that-- "Ever the right comes uppermost"; and he believed that she would be delivered from her troubles. And his compassion for Claudia did not prevent him from rejoicing exceedingly in the speedy prospect of meeting Bee. Besides he no longer loved Claudia, except with that Christian kindliness which he cherished for every member of the human family. You may be sure that the sickly, sentimental, sinful folly of loving another man's wife, even if she had been, before her marriage, his own early passion, was very far below Ishmael's healthy, rational, and honorable nature. No nerve in his bosom vibrated to the sound of Claudia's name. The passion of his heart was perfectly cured; its wounds were quite healed; even its scars were effaced. He could have smiled at the memory of that ill-starred passion now. He was heart-whole, and his whole heart--his sound, large loving heart--was unreservedly given to Bee. And therefore, notwithstanding his compassion for the misfortunes of Claudia, he rode gayly on to his anticipated meeting with his betrothed. It was a fine, frosty, bracing, winter morning; the roads were good; and the horse was fresh; and he enjoyed his ride exceedingly, rejoicing in his youth, health, and happy, well-placed love. He galloped all the way to Horsehead, where he arrived at noon, took an early dinner, procured a fresh horse and continued his journey. He rode all the short, bright winter afternoon, and at dusk reached his second stopping-place, where he took an early tea, changed his horse, and started afresh. Four more hours of riding through the leafless forest, and under the starlit sky, brought him in sight of the water; and a few minutes brought him to the door of the Beacon. Here he sprung from his saddle; secured his horse to a post; and rushed up the front steps to the hall door and rang. An old servant opened it. "Oh, Mr. Ishmael, sir! what a surprise! I am so glad to see you, sir." "Thank you, Ben. How are the family?"