CHAPTER XXXIX.

SUSPENSE.

Wait, for the day is breaking,

Tho' the dull night be long,

Wait, Heav'n is not forsaking

Thy heart--be strong! be strong!

--_Anon_.

As the time approached when Claudia might reasonably expect a reply

to the letter she had written to her father, she naturally became

very anxious.

Would he answer that last urgent appeal by letter or in person? that

was the question she was forever asking of herself.

And the response of her heart was always the same; he would lose no

time in writing, he would hasten at once to her relief.

Ah! but if he should be ill, or--even dead? What then? Claudia's

anxiety grew daily more acute.

She had heard nothing of the fate of her negroes. She learned by a

second letter from Jean Murdock that Mrs. Dugald still remained at

Castle Cragg, "lording it o'er a'," as the housekeeper expressed it.

And she saw by the "Times" that Malcolm, Viscount Vincent, had filed

a petition for divorce from his viscountess. That was all.

The fourth week had nearly gone by when one morning, on coming to

the breakfast table, Claudia found lying beside her plate a foreign

letter.

At the very first glance at its superscription she recognized her

father's firm handwriting, and with an irrepressible cry of joy she

snatched it up.

It was the short letter Judge Merlin had hastily penned on the eve

of his journey to Washington. It merely stated that he had just that

instant taken her letters from the post office; and that, in order

to save the immediately outgoing mail, he answered them without

leaving the office, to announce to her that he should sail for

England on the "Oceana," that would leave Boston on the following

Wednesday. And then, with strong expressions of indignation against

Lord Vincent, sorrow for Claudia's troubles, and affection for

herself, the letter closed.

"Oh, Berenice, Berenice! I am so happy; so very happy!" exclaimed

Claudia wildly. "My father has written to me! he is well! he is

coming! he is coming! he will be here in a few days! in a very few

days! for this letter was written in the post office, to save the

very last mail that came by the steamer immediately preceding the

'Oceana'! Oh, Berenice, I could cry with joy!"

"I congratulate you with all my heart, dear Claudia. Yes, I should

think your father would now be here in two or three days, at

farthest," said Lady Hurstmonceux.

"And oh, how shall I get ovor the interval? Ah, Berenice, indulge

me! Let us go down, to Liverpool to meet my father!"

"My dear, I would do so in a moment, only I think it the worst plan

you could pursue. In your circumstances, dearest Claudia, we must

not go journeying through the country. We must live very quietly.

And besides, though the 'Oceana' may reasonably be expected in two

or three days, there is no reason in the world why she might not

arrive to-day, or to-night. In which case, by going down to

Liverpool, we shall be most likely to miss your father, who would be

steaming up here."

"Certainly, certainly! I see the reasonableness of your views; but

how, then, shall I get over the intervening time?"

"I might propose for you excursions to many interesting places in

the vicinity of Edinboro' which you have not seen; but that we must

not go far from home, while expecting Judge Merlin. We must not

happen to be absent when your father arrives."

"Oh, no! we must not risk such a thing, I know. Well, I will wait as

patiently as I can."

"And I will tell you what you may do, meantime. To-day you shall

superintend in person the preparation of a suite of rooms for your

father. You shall let my housekeeper into the secret of all his

little tastes, and they shall be considered in the arrangements.

That will occupy one day. To-morrow, you know, is Sunday, and we

must go to church. That will occupy the second. The next day,

Monday, we will make our weekly round among the poor. That will

occupy the third day, to the exclusion of everything else. For if

there is one employment more than another that will make us forget

our personal anxieties, it is ministering to the wants of others.

And, in all human probability, before Monday evening Judge Merlin

will be here."

"Yes, yes! Oh, my dear father! I can scarcely realize that I shall

see him so soon," said Claudia, with emotion.

The countess' programme was carried out. Claudia spent that day in

superintending the arrangements of a handsome suite of rooms for her

father.

On Sunday they went to church. But the text was an unfortunate one

for Claudia's spirits. It was taken from James iv. 13: "Ye know not

what shall be on the morrow." And the subject of the discourse was

on the vanity of human expectations and the uncertainty of human

destiny. Claudia returned home greatly depressed; but that

depression soon yielded to the cheerfulness of Lady Hurstmonceux's

manner.

On Monday they made their rounds among the poor; and Claudia forgot

her anxieties and felt happy in the happiness she saw dispensed

around her.

Yes, the programme of the countess was carried out, but her

previsions were not realized. Judge Merlin did not come that

evening, nor on the next morning, nor on the next evening.

On Wednesday morning Claudia, as usual, seized the "Times" as soon

as it was brought in, and turned eagerly to the telegraphic column.

But there was no arrival from America. Glancing farther down the

column, she suddenly grew pale and exclaimed:

"Oh, Berenice!"

"What is it, dear?" inquired the countess.

Claudia read aloud the paragraph that had alarmed her:

"The 'Oceana' is now several days overdue. Serious apprehensions are

entertained for her safety."

"Do not be alarmed, my dear. At this season of the year the steamers

are frequently delayed beyond their usual time of arrival," said the

countess, with a cheerfulness that she was very far from really

feeling.

"But if there should have been an accident!"

"My dear, that line of steamers has never had an accident. And their

good fortune is not the effect of luck, but of the great care

bestowed by the company and its officers upon the safety of those

who trust to them their lives and goods. Reassure yourself,

Claudia."

But that was easier said than done. Three or four more of anxious

days and nights passed, during which Claudia watched the papers for

the arrival of the ocean steamers; but all in vain, until the

Saturday morning of that week, when, as usual, she opened the

"Times" and turned to the telegraphic column.

She could scarcely repress the cry of anguish that arose to her lips

on reading the following:

"Arrival of the ocean steamers. The screw propeller 'Superior,' with

New York mails of the 15th, has reached Queenstown. On the Banks of

Newfoundland she passed the wreck of a large steamer, supposed to be

the 'Oceana.'"

"Oh, Berenice! Oh, Berenice! Can this be true? Oh! Speak a word of

hope or comfort to me!" cried Claudia, wringing her hands in the

extremity of mental agony.

"My dear, let us still hope for the best. There is no certainty that

it is the wreck of the 'Oceana.' There is no certainty that the

'Oceana' is wrecked at all. She is delayed; that is all which is

known. And that is often the case with the ocean steamers at this

season of the year, as I told you before," said the countess, trying

to inspire Claudia with a hope that she herself scarcely dared to

indulge.

But Claudia's face was drawn with anguish.

"Oh, the suspense, the terrible agony of suspense! It is worse than

death!" she cried.

The countess essayed to comfort her, but in vain.

All that day, and for many succeeding ones, Claudia was like a

victim stretched upon the rack. The torture of uncertainty was

harder to endure than any certainty; it was, as she said, "worse

than death," worse than despair! Some two weeks passed away, during

which her very breath of life seemed almost suspended in the agony

of hope that could not die.

At length one morning, on descending to the breakfast parlor, she

found Lady Hurstmonceux reading the "Times."

"Any news?" inquired Claudia, in a faint voice.

The countess looked up. Claudia read the expression of her face,

which seemed to say, prepare for good news.

"Oh, yes, there is! there is!" exclaimed Claudia, suddenly snatching

the paper, and turning to the telegraphic column, and then, with a

cry of joy, sinking into her seat.

"Let me read it to you, my dear, you are incapable of doing so,"

said Berenice, gently taking the paper from her hand and reading

aloud the following paragraph:

"News of the 'Oceana.'--The Oriental and Peninsular Steam Packet

Company's ship 'Albatross' has arrived at Liverpool, bringing all

the passengers and crew of the 'Oceana,' wrecked on the banks of

Newfoundland. They were picked up by the 'Santiago,' bound for

Havana, and taken to that port, whence they sailed by the 'Cadiz'

for the port of Cadiz, whence lastly they were brought by the

'Albatross' to Liverpool. Among the passengers saved were Chief

Justice Merlin of the United States Supreme Court, Ishmael Worth,

Esquire, a distinguished member of the Washington bar, and Professor

Erasmus Kerr, of the Glasgow University. The shipwrecked passengers

have all arrived in good health and spirits, and have already

dispersed to their various destinations."

"This is too much joy! Oh, Berenice, it is too much joy!" cried

Claudia, bursting into tears and throwing herself into the arms of

Lady Hurstmonceux, and weeping freely on the sympathetic bosom of

that faithful friend.

"Claudia, dear," whispered that gentle lady, "go to your room and

shut yourself in, and kneel and return thanks to God for this his

great mercy. And so shall your spirits be calmed and strengthened."

Claudia ceased weeping, kissed her kind monitress, and went and

complied with her counsel. And very fervent was the thanksgiving

that went up to Heaven from her relieved and grateful heart. She had

finished her prayers and had arisen from her knees and was sitting

by her writing-table indulging in a reverie of anticipation, when a

bustle below stairs attracted her attention.

She listened.

Yes, it was the noise of an arrival!

With a joyous presentiment of what had come to the house, Claudia

rushed out of the room and down the stairs to the lower entrance

hall, and the next moment found herself clasped to the bosom of her

father.

For a few moments neither spoke. The embrace was a fervent, earnest,

but silent one.

The judge was the first to break the spell.

"Oh, my child! my child! Thank God that I find you alive and well!"

he exclaimed, in a broken voice.

"Oh, my father, my dear, dear father!" began Claudia; but she broke

down, burst into tears, and wept upon his bosom.

He held her there, soothing her with loving words and tender

caresses, as he had been accustomed to do when she was but a child

coming to him with her childish troubles. When Claudia had exhausted

her passion of tears, she looked up and said:

"But, papa, you have not been in the drawing room yet? You hare not

seen Lady Hurstmonceux?"

"No, my dear, I have but just arrived. Claudia, immediately upon my

landing I took the first train north, and reached Edinboro' this

morning. I sent my party on to Magruder's Hotel and took a fly and

drove immediately out here. I have but just been admitted to the

house and sent my card in to the hostess. And, ah, I see that my

messenger has returned."

A servant in livery came up, bowed, and said:

"My lady directs me to say to you, sir, that she will see you

immediately in the drawing room, unless you would prefer to go first

to the apartments which are prepared for you, sir."

The judge hesitated, and then turned to his daughter and whispered

the inquiry:

"How do I look, Claudia? Presentable?"

Lady Vincent ran her eyes over the traveler and answered:

"Not at all presentable, papa. You look just as one might expect you

to do--black with smoke and dust and cinders, as if you had traveled

in the train all night."

"Which of course I did."

"And I think you would be all the better for a visit to your rooms,

papa. Come, I will show you the way, for I am as much at home here

as ever I was at dear old Tanglewood. James," she said, turning to

the footman who had brought the message, "you need not wait. I will

show my papa his rooms; but you may order breakfast for him, for I

dare say he has had none. Come, papa!"

And so saying Claudia marshaled her father upstairs to the handsome

suite of apartments that had been made ready for him. When he had

renovated his toilet, he declared himself ready to go below and be

presented to his hostess. Claudia conducted him downstairs and into

"my lady's little drawing room."

Self-Raised; Or, From the Depths · 第 39 / 55 章