Chapter LXVIII

"Sit down by me--tell me what you have learned from Rose," said John, the next day to his sister.

"His history is so singular," said Gertrude, "that in a novel it would be stigmatized as incredible, overdrawn, and absurd; in truth, a novelist who would not subject himself to such charges must not too closely follow Nature. If the gorgeous colors of our autumnal scenery were faithfully transferred to canvas, the artist would be considered a glaring, tasteless burlesquer. Both artist and novelist must learn to 'tone down' their pictures; but as my story is not for the critic's ear, but for yours, John, I shall tell it verbatim.

VINCENT'S HISTORY.

"Rose and Vincent were legally married by the Rev. Mr. Lehmann, a
few miles from the boarding-school where Vincent first saw Rose.
Vincent took her from thence immediately to the hotel, where his
friend, the Rev. Mr. Lehmann, was staying for a few days previous
to his departure for the Continent. The rector's brother, who was
with him, was the witness to the ceremony.

"Rose and Vincent then left for a few days' sojourn in a
neighboring city. There Vincent received intelligence of the dying
condition of his aged father. As his father had been unapprised of
his sudden marriage, he thought it not best to take Rose with him
at such a time;--providing, therefore, every thing necessary for
her comfort, and expecting to be gone at farthest but a few days,
he took a reluctant leave of her--he little thought for how long a
time.

"Part of the journey lay off from the regular public conveyances;
and Vincent, being anxious to return to Rose as soon as possible,
hesitated not, though the road was lonely, to perform it at night
on horseback. On this night he was met by a gang of desperados,
who, unknown to him, herded in the vicinity, and who attacked him
and left him for dead, after possessing themselves of his watch,
pocket-book, and papers. There he was found the next day, by a
passing traveler, in an insensible state, and taken to the nearest
farm-house. He was quite unable to give any account of himself; and
not wishing to be burdened with the care of him, they put him into
a cart and took him to the county poor-house. Here his sufferings,
aggravated by neglect, assumed the form of brain fever, and from
thence, after awhile, he was removed to the lunatic asylum, where
he remained for a year without any symptoms of returning reason.

"His distress, when he finally became conscious of the length of
time which had elapsed since he left Rose, was too much for his
weak frame. A relapse ensued, and for months longer he vibrated
between life and death.

"When consciousness again returned, though weakened in body and
enfeebled in mind, he commenced his weary search for Rose. He could
hear nothing except that part of her story which he gleaned from
Mrs. Bond, and which only served to aggravate his distress. Since
then he has traveled unceasingly in steamboats, railroad cars, and
stages; haunted hotels, haunted villages, and loitered trembling in
churchyards. There is no misery like suspense, and acting upon an
already enfeebled frame, it sapped the very fountains of life, and
reduced him so fearfully as to render him quite unable to bear the
sudden shock of joy which so unexpectedly met him."

"Poor Vincent!" exclaimed John; "and I have grudged him his
happiness."

"Dear John!"

"Where was Charley born, Gertrude?"

"In a Lying-in Hospital; in which poor Rose took refuge when the
sorrowful hour drew near.

"Then," said Gertrude, resuming her story, "Rose's husband had a
cousin of the same name as himself, extravagant, reckless, and
dissipated, who, though only twenty-five, had run through a
handsome property, inherited in his own right from his grandmother,
besides making unreasonable demands upon the paternal
purse-strings. The old gentleman at last remonstrated, and the
young man's affairs being even worse than he had dared to
represent, he became desperate and unscrupulous.

"The father of Rose's husband, who, spite of the profligacy of his
nephew, cherished a warm attachment for him, had willed him his
property, in case of his son's death. This the young spendthrift
was aware of, and when he first heard of the old gentleman's
illness, he planned with three desperados to murder his cousin, and
remove the only obstacle to his immediate possession of the
fortune."

"How was this discovered?" asked John.

"It was revealed by one of the gang on his deathbed, though not
until after the instigator had met his own doom at the hands of a
woman whom he had betrayed and deserted."

"Then," said John, after a pause, "Rose and her husband have no
immediate means of support. It is happiness to know that I can be
of service even now."

"But Vincent is not a man to incur such an obligation," said his
sister, "enfeebled as he is."

"He must--he shall," said the generous John, "at least till he is
stronger and better able to substantiate his claim to what is
rightfully his own; he _may_ get even more than his own," said
John, "when the old lady in New Orleans finds out that he is the
father of the beautiful child she fancied so much; the family
likeness must have been well handed down in Charley's face."

"That is not strange," said Gertrude; "cases have occurred in which
the family likeness, after having been apparently wholly
obliterated, has re-appeared in the third or fourth generation."

"Well, Vincent's story passes belief," said John; "truth _is_,
indeed, stranger than fiction."