"Jerome, this is a sorry visit you have made me," continued the doctor.
"Are you entirely lost to all shame, that you could thus enter my house with a band of ruffians behind you?"
"Father," said the convicted Vernon, "I did not know it was your house, or I could never have done it."
"Alas, that a son of mine should have become a midnight a.s.sa.s.sin!" and Dr. Vaudelier covered his face with his hands, and sobbed like a child.
"Forgive me, father!" exclaimed the repentant son. "Forgive me!"
"G.o.d and your country alone can forgive crimes like yours!"
"Easy with him, doctor!" interposed Jerry, fearful lest the son"s repentance should be dissipated before the father"s sternness.
"I will atone for all, to the best of my ability."
"Would that you might do so!"
"I will! Heaven witness my sincerity!"
"Your first act of atonement must be to the lady you have so deeply injured."
"I would be her slave for life!"
"If you are sincere, you will disclose all you know of the wrongs which have been inflicted upon her."
"I fear, for her sake, that my knowledge is too limited to avail anything to her. Maxwell a.s.sured me she was his slave, and showed me the bill of sale. I believed him, or he could never have had my help."
"You were too willing to believe him," said the doctor, sternly.
"I told him, at the outset, that I would expose all I knew (which is but little), if I discovered she was not a slave. I will tell you all."
"Let Miss Dumont be called, Jerry."
Emily came at the summons, and Dr. Vaudelier informed her of the position of the matter.
"Can you forgive me, Miss Dumont, for the wrong I have done?"
"Freely, sir; and may G.o.d enable you to persevere in the course you have taken!"
"Thank you! With an angel"s prayer, I shall begin the new life with the strength your good wishes impart."
Vernon now related all he knew of the machinations of the attorney, concealing no part of his own or his confederate"s villany. Of the will he knew nothing, his operations having been confined to the attempts to obtain possession of her person.
Dr. Vaudelier was satisfied that his son had told the whole truth. It was a source of much satisfaction to him that he had chosen the better part. His fervent prayer ascended that the penitent might be faithful to his good resolutions.
All the circ.u.mstances relating to the will were unknown to Vernon, which was the occasion of much congratulation both to his father and to Emily.
It seemed to relieve him from some portion of the guilt which the subsequent transactions fastened upon him; and, when these circ.u.mstances were related to him, a burst of generous indignation testified that he, the blackleg, the robber, was above such villany. However depraved in some respects, that vice which is commonly called _meanness_ had no place within him. He was, or rather had been, of that cla.s.s of operators who "rob the rich to pay the poor;" who have no innate love of vice, only a desire to be free from wholesome restraint, and have at hand, without toil or sacrifice, the means of enjoying life to the utmost.
"Jerome," said Dr. Vaudelier, "this Maxwell must be watched, and, if you are true to yourself, no one can do this duty as well as you."
"Trust me, sir! I am strong in this lady"s service."
"I shall not doubt you, my son, until I have occasion to do so. I am satisfied, if Miss Dumont is."
"I feel perfectly confident in the good faith of your son, and am indebted to him for the zeal he manifests in my cause."
"Thank you, Miss Dumont," said Vernon. "You are too generous; but, be a.s.sured, your confidence shall not be abused."
It was determined that Vernon should immediately depart for Vicksburg, whither Maxwell had gone.
CHAPTER XXII.
"He gives me leave to attend you, And is impatient till he sees you."
SHAKSPEARE.
It was the afternoon of the same day, as Dr. Vaudelier was reclining upon a rustic seat near the landing, he was surprised by the appearance of a canoe coming down the creek. The canoe contained an elderly gentleman, and a negro, who, after several unsuccessful attempts, succeeded in landing the pa.s.senger upon the little pier. He was about fifty years of age, apparently. His hair and whiskers were a mixture of gray and black; his countenance was full, and his complexion florid, which contrasted oddly with the green spectacles that rested upon his nose.
"Do I have the honor of addressing Dr. Vaudelier?" said, the stranger, in a tone so soft and silky that the doctor could hardly persuade himself it did not proceed from a woman.
"That is my name, sir; and to whom am I indebted for this unexpected pleasure?"
"De Guy, sir,--Antoine De Guy, at your service," squeaked the visitor, with whom the reader is already acquainted.
"Well, sir, may I inquire the object of your visit?"
"Certainly, sir. I am informed there is a lady at present residing with you, one of the unfortunate persons who were on board the Chalmetta at the time of her late disaster. A Miss Dumont."
"Who informed you, sir?"
De Guy hesitated a little, and then said he heard a number of gentlemen discuss the late disaster at the hotel in Vicksburg; that one of them had mentioned this fact--he really could not tell the gentleman"s name.
"What is your business with the lady?" asked the doctor, to whom the idea of a new enemy of Emily had already presented itself.
"That, sir, I can best disclose to the lady in person," squeaked the street-lawyer, with a low bow.
"This way then," and the doctor led him to the library, into which he soon after conducted Emily.
"Miss Dumont?" said De Guy, rising and making a profound obeisance as she entered. "My name is De Guy."
Emily bowed slightly, but made no reply.
"May I beg that our interview may be private?" said the attorney, glancing at Dr. Vaudelier.
"This gentleman is my friend and confidant; it is not necessary that he should retire," replied Emily, as Dr. Vaudelier was moving towards the door.