“I’m just little Jessica Trent. That’s all.”
“All! Trent–Trent. Ah!”
“And you? Are you Luis Garcia’s missing father?”
“Luis–Luis Garcia. Was it Luis, Ysandra called him?”
“Yes, yes. That was the name on the paper my father found pinned to the baby’s dress. The letter told that the baby’s father had gone away promising to come back, but had never come. The mother had heard of my dear father’s goodness to all who needed help, and she was on her way to him when her strength gave out. So she died there in the canyon, and she said the baby’s name was like the father’s. I remember it all, because to us the ‘Maria’ seems like a girl’s name, too. Luis Maria Manuel Alessandro Garcia.”
The man’s round eyes opened wider and wider. It seemed as if his glare pierced the child’s very heart, and she drew back frightened. The nurse motioned her to go, but at her first movement toward the door the patient extended his hands imploring:
“No. Not yet. My time is spent. Let me hear all–all. The child your father found–ah! me! Your father of all men! Did–did it live?”
“Of course it lived. He is a darling little fellow and he looks–he looks so like you that I knew you in a moment. He has the same wide brown eyes, the same black curls, his eyebrows slant so, like yours, he is your image. But he is the cutest little chap you ever saw. He is my own brother’s age and they have grown up together, like twins, I guess. It would break Ned’s heart to have you take him away from us. You won’t now, will you?”
A pitiful smile spread over the pain-racked features, and the man glanced significantly toward the nurse. She smiled encouragingly upon him, but he was not misled. After a moment of silence, during which Jessica anxiously watched his drawn face, he spoke.
“Go, child. Your mission is done. Send a lawyer, quick. Quick. The man I wronged–the savior of my son! A lawyer, quick. Bring the suit case–the case! Let none open it but the child. Quick. Quick!”