“Yes; but not picked up at the same time, or at the same spot, or by the same person. Those above stairs were, as you know, picked up by my nephew; these by a brother, who is since dead; and in these clothes an infant was also washed upon the beach.”
“His child!” exclaimed Monsieur de Fontanges. “Where was it buried?”
“The child was restored to life, and is still living.”
“If it is,” replied Monsieur de Fontanges, “it can be no other than the young lady who just now called you father. The likeness to Madame la Marquise is most astonishing.”
“It is as you suppose, sir,” replied Mr John Forster. “At my brother’s death, he bequeathed the little girl to my protection; and I trust I have done justice to the deposit. Indeed, although an alien by blood, she is as dear to me as if she were my own daughter; and,” continued the old lawyer, hesitating a little, “although I have the satisfaction of restoring her to her father’s arms, it will be a heavy blow to part with her! When my brother spoke to me on the subject, I told him it was trouble and expense enough to bring up a child of one’s own begetting. I little thought at the time how much more I should be vexed at parting with one of another’s. However, with the bundle she must be returned to the lawful owner. I have one more remark to make, sir. Do me the favour to look at that drawing of my poor brother’s, which hangs over the sideboard. Do you recognise the portrait?”
“Triton!” cried Monsieur de Fontanges; “the dog which I gave my poor sister-in-law!”
“You are indebted to that dog for the life of your niece. He brought her on shore, and laid her at my brother’s feet; but I have all the documents, which I will send for your perusal. The facts I consider so well established as to warrant a verdict in any court of justice; and now, sir, I must leave you to make the communication as soon, and, at the same time, as cautiously as you please. Newton, send Amber down to me.”
We will pass over the scenes which followed in the dining-parlour and drawing-room. The Marquis de Fontanges discovered that he was blessed with a daughter, at the same time that Amber learnt her own history. In a few minutes Amber was led up stairs to the arms of her father, whose tears of sorrow at the loss of his wife were now mingled with those of delight, as he clasped his daughter to his heart.
“What obligations do I owe to your whole family, my dear friend!” said the marquis to Newton.
“I will not deny it, sir,” replied Newton; “but allow me to observe, that for the recovery of your daughter you are equally indebted to the generosity of your own relatives and your own feeling disposition. Had not Monsieur and Madame de Fontanges protected and assisted me in my distress; had not you, instead of throwing me into prison, set me at liberty, you never would have known where your daughter was to be found. Had not one of my uncles hastened to the relief of the vessel in distress, and the other protected your little girl after his death, she would not have been now in existence. My gratitude for your kindness induced me to remain by your ship, and subsequently to rescue you from the pirate, or you would not have now been a prisoner in this country—an evil which, under divine Providence, has been changed to a blessing, by restoring to you your daughter. We have all, I trust, done our duty, and this happy issue is our full reward.”