In due time he reached the farm—­Rushy Shore—­where the schoolhouse was for rent.  It was a plain little log house close to the river side and shaded by cedars.  It had been built for the use of a poor country master who had worn out his life in teaching for small pay the humbler class of country children.  He rested from his earthly labors, and the school was without a teacher.  Ishmael saw only the overseer of the farm, who informed him that he had authority to let the schoolroom only until Christmas, as the whole estate had just been sold and the new owner was to take possession at the new year.

“Who is the new owner?” inquired Ishmael.

“Well, sir, his name is Middleton—­Mr. James Middleton, from St. Mary’s County:  though I think I did hear as he was first of all from Virginia.”

“Mr. Middleton!  Mr. James Middleton!” exclaimed Ishmael, catching his breath for joy.

“Yes, sir; that is the gentleman; did you happen to know him?”

“Yes:  intimately; he is one of the best and most honored friends I have in the world!” said Ishmael warmly.

“Then, sir, maybe he wouldn’t be for turning you out of the schoolhouse even when the time we can let it for is up?”

“No, I don’t think he would,” said Ishmael, smiling, as he took his leave and started on his return.  He walked rapidly on his way homeward, thinking of the strange destiny that threw him again among the friends of his childhood, when he was startled by a sound as of the sudden rush of wheels.  He raised his head and beheld a fearful sight!  Plunging madly towards the brink of the high bank were the horses of Claudia’s returning carriage.  The coachman had dropped the reins, which were trailing on the ground, sprung from his seat and was left some distance behind.  Claudia retained hers, holding by the sides of the carriage; but her face was white as marble; her eyes were starting from their sockets; her teeth were firmly set; her lips drawn back; her hat lost and her black hair streaming behind her!  On rushed the maddened beasts towards the brink of the precipice! another moment, and they would have dashed down into certain destruction!

Ishmael saw and hurled himself furiously forward between the rushing horses and the edge of the precipice, seizing the reins as the horses dashed up to him, and threw all his strength into the effort to turn them aside from their fate.

He did turn them from the brink of destruction, but alas! alas! as they were suddenly and violently whirled around they threw him down and passed, dragging the carriage with them, over his prostrate body!

At the same moment some fishermen on the sands below, who had seen the impending catastrophe, rushed up the bank, headed the maddened horses and succeeded in stopping them.

Then Miss Merlin jumped from the carriage, and ran to the side of Ishmael.

In that instant of deadly peril she had recognized him; but all had passed so instantaneously that she had not had time to speak, scarcely to breathe.