"Katie! But where is her mistress?" demanded the old man, in burning anxiety. "I do not know, sir; Katie was too much excited by the shock of her meeting with me and hearing that you were on the island to give any coherent account of herself." "But--how came she here if not in attendance upon her mistress? And--what should have brought Claudia here?--unless she should have been on her voyage home to me, and got wrecked and brought here, as we have been, which is not likely." "No; that is too improbable to have happened, I should think. But drink the water, sir, let me beg of you." "I will. I will, Ishmael, when I have qualified it a little!" said the judge, tottering to his feet and going to a buffet upon which stood some Jamaica rum. He mixed a strong glass of spirits and water, drank it, and returned to his seat, saying, as he sank into it with a deep sigh of refreshment: "I feel better. Where is Katie? And how in the world came she here? And what news does she bring of her mistress?" "Katie is outside that door, sir, waiting for you to receive her." "Let her come in, then, Ishmael." CHAPTER XXXV. A FATHER'S VENGEANCE. Haste me to know it; that I, with wings as swift As meditation or the thoughts of love, May sweep to my revenge! --_Shakespeare_. Ishmael went to the door and admitted Katie. The old woman made an impulsive rush towards her master, but stopped and burst into a passion of tears so violent that she was scarcely able to stand. "Sit down, Katie. Sit down and compose yourself. Your master will not take it amiss that you sit in his presence," said Ishmael, pushing a low, soft chair towards the woman, while he glanced inquiringly towards the judge. "Certainly not; let her rest; sit down, Katie. How do you do?" said the judge, going towards his old servant and holding out his hands. "Oh, marster! Oh, marster!" sobbed Katie, sinking into the seat and clinging to her master's venerable hands, upon which her tears fell like rain. The judge gently withdrew his hands, but it was only that he might use them for Katie's relief. He poured out a glass of the same restorative that he had found so effectual in his own case, and he made her drink it. Poor Katie was unused to such stimulants, and she immediately felt its effects. Her eyes sparkled threateningly as she set the empty glass down upon the table. "Ah!" she exclaimed, with indescribable force of spite; "ah, the whited saltpeter! Now I send her to de penumtenshury; now I send her dere to pick oakum in a crash gown and cropped hair, and an oberseer wid a big whip to drive her!" "What is she talking of? What does she mean by whited saltpeter?" inquired the judge. "'Whited sepulchre' is Katie's Scripture name for a hypocrite, I suppose," suggested Ishmael. "Not on'y for a hypocrite, Marse Ishmael! Not on'y for a hypocrite; but for a pi'son, 'ceitful, lyin' white nigger!" said Katie, with her eyes snapping.