"You must know, then, that a few of my old domestics, who served the late earl and myself while we lived at Castle Cragg, still remain there in the service of the present earl's family, which is always represented at the castle by Lord Vincent. Among them there are two who, it appears, became very much attached to your ladyship. I allude to the housekeeper, Jean Murdock, and the major-domo, Cuthbert Allan." "Yes, they were very kind; but, after all, it was old Cuthbert who sent that note to Lord Vincent, which brought him from the play at midnight to burst into my room and find his wretched valet hidden there," replied Claudia gravely. "Yes; Cuthbert saw the valet steal into your room and sent word to his master, as in duty bound. But, after witnessing the scene of his discovery, Cuthbert's mind instantly cleared your ladyship of suspicion and rushed to the conclusion that the miserable valet concealed himself in your boudoir unknown to you and for the purpose of robbery. I, for my part, believe he was placed there with the connivance of Lord Vincent, and that old Cuthbert was made to play a blind part in that conspiracy." "I knew, of course, that it was a conspiracy, but really wondered to find the honest old man in it." "He was a blind tool in their hands. But I was about to tell you how the facts of your departure from the castle and your arrival in this hotel came to my knowledge. In brief, I received a letter from old Cuthbert this morning, in which he related the whole history of the affair, as it was known to him. He expressed great sorrow for the part he had been obliged to bear in the business, and the most respectful sympathy for your ladyship. He said his 'heart was sair for the bonnie leddy sae far frae a' her friends and living her lane in Edinboro' toun.' And he begged me to find you out and protect you. To this letter was added a postscript by Jean Murdock. It was a warm, humble, respectful encomium upon your ladyship, in which she joined her prayers to those of Cuthbert that I would seek you out and succor you." As Berenice spoke, blushes dyed the cheeks of Claudia, and tears dropped from her eyes. She was softened by the kindness of those two old people, and their patronage humiliated her. Something of the nature of her emotions the countess must have divined, for she took the hand of Claudia and said: "Believe me, dear Lady Vincent, I did not need urging to come to you. I needed only to know that you were in town and alone. As soon as I read the letters I sent for the morning paper to look for the arrivals at the various hotels, to see if I could find your name among them. I could not, and so I was about to lay aside the paper and send for the one of the day before, when my eye happened to light on a paragraph in which I found your name. It was the robbery of your purse at Holyrood Palace. There I learned your address. And I came away here immediately."