University of Virginia Library

13. CHAPTER XIII.
The Mystery Unraveled.

It was about half past seven o'clock, the
evening of the day on which these tragic
events occurred, that lord Delorme and his
sister, lady Lessington were seated at the teatable
in their rooms at the Astor. They were
speaking of the extraordinary series of circumstances,
by which they had obtained intelligence
of the lost ehild up to her disappearance
from the house of Mr. Carrol, and
were sadly discussing the hopeless chances
that they should ever hear of her again.

`What can Edward have meant,' said lady
Lessington, `by his wild words just now, and
rising from the table, and rushing out as he
did so like a mad-man, crying, `I have it! I
have it! The riddle is solved, and it is she!

`I cant explain his conduct. But all day
he has had something in his thoughts perplexing,
and once I heard him say, to himself, the
face of that child's portrait haunts me, with a
vague resemblance to some one, and each instant
I would fix upon the person the connecting
link I sought would vanish!' Evidently
he has seen some one whom the portrait reminds
him of, but who it is he is not able to
fasten upon!'

`It would be extraordinary if Edward had
by chance met with her somewheres, and now
traces the resemblance! Perhaps his sudden
departure from the table and his words had
something to do with the fastening this resemblance
upon the person whose image has
been vaguely seen in his mind!'

They were right in their conjectures. Lord
Edward had again and again that day gazed
upon the portrait of the lovely child which
was in lord Delorme's possession, and the
more he gazed the more certain he felt that
he had somewheres seen the face! But where,
as is often the case, in seeking out vaguely
defined resemblances in the memory, he had
met with it, he found it impossible to tell.
The reader, however, will be at no loss! and
when it is borne in mind that the likeness he
was trying to fix and individualize, was that
of a portrait of a young girl at ten, and the
face of the same person beheld in her seventeenth
year, his perplexity will not be surprising.
But all day his thoughts were upon
it, when suddenly the truth flashed upon his
mind at a moment, when he had the portrait
and the face of the lovely girl at ths same instant
in his mind. Then face answered to
face as in a mirror, and their identity was
clear, and decided.

He hastened from the hotel to the VignMort
and not finding her there in an assumed
careless tone inquired for her of the proprietor.
From him he understood that she had
gone to her mother's, having been sent for on
account of her sudden illness. The scenes
she had gone through that day had deeply affected
this lady and when she sent for Maria
to see her she was near her end. Of the
murder of Herman she had not heard, for the
Book-man having done the deed in secret took
care to remove the body and all traces of their
act of blood from his dark and solitary abode.

On reaching the dwelling of Madam de
Ruyter, Lord Edward ascended the stairs and
entered the room. Upon the bed lay the dying
woman. Over her, bent weeping, the
lovely girl he sought. The young nobleman
advanced with sympathy in his looks
and knelt by the side of the bed with an air
of respectful sorrow. Maria on seeing him
blushed deeply and would have risen but he
said to her—

`Do not move. Let us together watch her
last moments!'

`Is it the noble youth? Ah, sir, Heaven
has sent you,' said the dying woman with
faint articulation. `You are good and honorable,
for I see these sentiments in your
countenance. You are her only protector
under God. To you I solemnly commit her!'

`I take the trust which you confide to me,
in truth and sincerity, my dear Madam!' answered
Lord Edward with emotion. `Tell
me then truly, is she your daughter?'

`No—no! I have deceived full long! Do
not trouble, Maria! The knowledge of the
truth will not now affect you. You need not
now fear exposure with being charged with
the murder of that man Shears, which alone
has so long intimidated you! No, sir, she is
not my daughter! A burglar in breaking
into the house of Mr. Carrol, not finding
booty, seized upon her, believing her to be
his child, hoping to get large ransom fer her.
My son slew him and rescued the child whom,
boy as he was, he loved and conveyed her
to my house. Then, at his urgent desire I
connived at the concealment of the sweet
child whom he resolved never to part from.—
She was prevented from making known who
she was by the subtilty of Herman, who excited
her apprehensions with the idea that as
she would be asserted as the murderer of the
man who carried her off, he being killed by
Herman in her presence! If I have done
wrong God knows I have repented it!'

`You have doubtless done wickedly, madam,'
said the young man. `But Providence
has directed these things to a termination you
little anticipated. I will tell you what will
rolieve your mind at this solemn hour. Here
is an advertisement,' he continued taking a
paper from his pocket, `which please listen
to!'

When he had ended reading it, the poor
woman clasped her hands together in deep
emotion.

`Oh, sir, do her parents live?'

`Yes—her father! He is now in this city!
He is an English nobleman and my uncle.
Satisfied that this lovely girl was her we
sought, I came here to question her as to her
only recollections. Your words have left no
room for doubt. This young girl is my cousin
and to my mother, who is in the city, I shall
at once consign her. You see, therefore, that
she will not be without suitable protectors!'

Madame de Ruyter extended her arms with

an expression of deep joy upon her pale countenance
to embrace Maria, and then pressing
the hand of the young nobleman she said fervantly,

`Now do I die in peace!'

The next moment the spirit of Madam de
Ruyler had taken its flight.

The surprise and joy of the young maiden
on hearing the words of Lord Edward were at
once lost in the deep grief with which the loss
of her dear friend and foster-mother overwhelmed
her. At length soothed by her noble
cousin, and feeling that all she had heard
him say was a dream, she suffered him to conduct
her to a carriage, which he had called to
as it was going by, and convey her to his
mother and her father!

The seene that passed on the entrance of
Lord Edward with the lovely girl, whose
features clearly spoke her claim to her noble
birth-right, cannot be described. She gave
her happy father her whole story, while Lord
Edward sat at her, listening with deep and
tender interest, and perfectly happy that he
could now make his wife her, to whom, in a
humble station, he had lost his heart.

After some discussion as to the best mode of
proceeding, now that she was once more in
their possession it was decided unanimously
that there should be nothing said to the proprietor
of the cigar-mart, nor to any person
whatsoever touching this discovery of her
birth; but that she should leave with them
early the next day for Boston, and at once
proceed with them to England. The motive
for this secrecy was to spare her own feelings
as well as those of her father in her new position,
by protecting her from any allusion to
her late situation as a cigar-girl; it being
deemed best that this precauiion should be
made to guard her against any reproach tha
might follow her into the new life before her.

The next day, therefore, the whole party
left for Boston, and two days afterwards took
the packet for England. The mystery that
involved her sudden disappearance and the
excitement it produced in New York is already
familiar to the reader. Three years careful
education under the best tutors and governnesses
completed her education, and in her
twentieth year Lord Edward led her to the
altar, where all joined in confessing her to be
the loveliest and most accomplished bride that
had for years graced the nuptial records of
any one of the British aristocracy.

Brant the Book-man, who had never been
suspected of murdering Herman, who, indeed,
had not been missed, had not believed, from
the first, in the death of the lovely girl, and
used every means, and expending much
money, to ascertain where she was, but without
success. At length after she had been
absent a little more than three years he believed
he had got trace of her, which was very
favorable; for in a few days aftewards he
sailed in the steamer for England, since when
we have lost all knowledge of him.