"THE NEGRO ADVANCED TO THE PORTMANTEAU ... AND DISPLAYED THE CONTENTS TO HIS MASTER"
This time not one, but two waxen faces—so exactly alike that they might have been cast in the same mould—reposed side by side, smiling in sphinx-like silence upon their bed of snowy lamb's wool.
And, as before, the jewels about which the brothers had once been so anxiously concerned were scattered as in mockery in a shower of sparkling and variegated brilliancy upon the immobile lineaments within.
"It is accomplished," said a calm and dispassionate voice; "and it is well."
Then, directing his words to Griscombe, the speaker continued! "You have been the instrument of fate, and you have performed your part with admirable exactitude. Ask what return you desire, and it is yours."
At these words a sudden inspiration, as it were, seized upon Griscombe. "Who you are and what you are," he cried, "I do not know, nor do I ask aught of you but one thing: it is that I be allowed to convey the young lady yonder in safety from this terrible place."
A moment or two of silence followed this, and then the same dispassionate voice resumed its speech. "I had intended," said the speaker, calmly, "a different fate for her. But be it as you will: she is yours. One thing only I demand of you. It is that you deliver to me the letter of instruction that her father wrote to M. de Troinville. Give me that, and take the girl. The coach that brought you hither, still waits below. It will transport you whithersoever you may order. You have entirely served my ends, and now you are free to go."
Upon the instant a remote clock struck the hour of twelve; and, as in echo, the chimes of Trinity Church began ringing at no great distance, heralding for Griscombe the most extraordinary Christmas Day that was, perhaps, ever experienced by any person in the United States before or since.
So concludes this part of our narrative, with this to add,—that Griscombe conveyed that precious charge, whom he had rescued from a dreadful and mysterious fate, to the City Hotel, where, declaring that she was a traveller who had been taken with a sudden illness, he confided her to the care of the worthy hostess of that excellent and well-known hostelry.
Furthermore, it may be added that the next day he with some difficulty discovered the residence of M. de Troinville, to whom he recounted such portions of his adventures as he deemed necessary, and whom he requested to take charge of Miss Desmond. As, however, he had neither credentials to show nor any proof to offer of the truth of his statements; as, moreover, the treasure with which he had been charged had entirely disappeared,—M. de Troinville either disbelieved or pretended to disbelieve the whole story. He declared that Griscombe was either a dupe or himself an impostor, and he ended by bidding him to leave the house, which command our hero obeyed, consumed with an overwhelming indignation.
The casual and flippant reader will no doubt be entirely inclined to ridicule the possibility of events like these herein narrated occurring in such unexpected localities as New York, Bordentown, or Newark; and, if he reads the story at all, he will do so merely for the sake of amusement and of entertainment, and not for the purpose of seriously digesting its morals.
The more serious, however, will weigh well what he has read, and will not be inclined to disbelieve that which has been so soberly narrated, even though it cause him some surprise that such things should have occurred in the midst of sedate American towns.
For the benefit of the former and lighter class of readers it may be added to the above account that Griscombe undertook the guardianship of Miss Desmond without the least reluctance in the world; that little by little he gradually unfolded to her such parts of her own unhappy situation as he deemed it necessary for her to be made acquainted with; and that, after a sufficient time had elapsed, he proposed to her that she should give him the entire right to become her protector.
Having in such a little while earned eight thousand dollars in fees from four clients, our hero embarked upon his married life with all possible satisfaction and happiness; and, when in 1850 he discovered himself to be at the head of the New York bar, no one would have supposed that so serious and moderate a gentle-man could ever have passed through a series of such remarkable occurrences as those herein related.