“No, ladies and gentleman,” said Vance, crossing the room, taking Clara by the hand, and leading her forth, “what I have to show is, that she didn’t die at all, and that Clara Aylesford Berwick now stands before you.”
Charlton rose half-way from his chair, the arms of which he grasped as if to keep himself from sinking. His features were ghastly in their expression of mingled amazement and indignation, coupled with a horrible misgiving of the truth of the disclosure, to which Vance’s assured manner and the affirmative presence of Colonel Hyde gave their dreadful support. Charlton struggled to speak, but failed, and sank back in his chair, while Detritch, after having tried to compose his client, rose and said: “In my legal capacity I must protest against this most irregular and insidious proceeding, intended as it obviously is to throw my client and myself off our guard, and to produce an alarm which may be used to our disadvantage.”
“Sir,” replied Vance, “you entirely misapprehend my object. It is not to your fears, but to your manhood and your sense of justice that I have thought it right to make my first appeal. I propose to prove to you by facts, which no sane man can resist, that the young lady whose hand I hold is the veritable Miss Berwick, to whom her mother’s estate belonged, and to whom it must now be restored, with interest.”
“With interest! Ha, ha, ha!” cried Charlton, with a frightful attempt at a merriment which his pale cheeks belied.
“There will be time,” continued Vance, “for the scrutiny of the law hereafter. I court it to the fullest extent. But I have thought it due to Mr. Charlton, to give him the opportunity to show his disposition to right a great wrong, in the event of my proving, as I can and will, that this lady is the person I proclaim her to be, the veritable Miss Berwick.”
Moved by that same infatuation which compels a giddy man to look over the precipice which is luring him to jump, Charlton, with a deplorable affectation of composure, wiped the perspiration from his brow, and said: “Well, sir, bring on these proofs that you pretend are so irresistible. I think we can afford to hear them,—eh, Detritch?”
“First,” said Vance, “I produce the confession of Hyde, here present, and of Quattles, deceased, that the infant child of Mr. Berwick was saved by them from the wreck of the Pontiac, taken to New Orleans, and sold at auction as a slave. The auctioneer, Mr. Richard Ripper, is here present, and will testify that he sold the child to Carberry Ratcliff, whose late attorney, T. J. Semmes. Esq., is here present, and can identify Miss Berwick as the child bought, according to Ratcliff’s own admission, from the said Ripper. Then we have the testimony of Mrs. Ripper, lately Mrs. Gentry, by whom the child was brought up, and of Esha, her housemaid, both of whom are now in this house. We have further strong collateral testimony from Hattie Davy, now in this house, the nurse who had the child in charge at the time of the accident, and who identifies her by the marks on her person, especially by her different colored eyes,—a mark which I also can corroborate. We have articles of clothing and jewels bearing the child’s initials, to the reception and keeping of which Mrs. Ripper and Esha will testify, and which, when unsealed, will no doubt be sworn to by Mrs. Davy as having belonged to the child at the time of the explosion.”
“Well, sir,” said Mr. Detritch, with a sarcastic smile, “I think Brother Semmes will admit that all this doesn’t make out a case. Unless you can bring some proof (which I know you cannot) of improper influences being applied by my client to induce his chief witnesses to give the testimony they did, you can make little headway in a court of law against a party who is fortified in what he holds by more than fourteen years of possession.”
“Even on this point, sir,” replied Vance, “we are not weak. Here are five original letters, with their envelopes, postage-marks, &c., all complete, from Mr. Charlton to Colonel Delancy Hyde, offering him and his accomplice their expenses and a thousand dollars if they will come on to New York and testify in a certain way. Here also are letters showing that, in the case of a colored woman named Jacobs, decoyed from Montreal back into slavery, the writer conducted himself in a manner which will afford corroborative proof that he was capable of doing what these other letters show that he did or attempted.”
As Vance spoke, he held one of the letters so that Charlton could read it. The latter, while affecting not to look, read enough to be made aware of its purport. His fingers worked so to clutch it, that Detritch pulled him by the coat; and then Charlton, starting up, exclaimed: “I’ll not stay here another moment to be insulted. This is a conspiracy to swindle. Come along, Detritch. Come, Mrs. Charlton and Lucy.”