"Nay, you shall not force me to it. Hear me one and all," and he tore open his coat and vest, and laid bare his breast, "I am the child of Gulian Van Huyden, but not his son."
It was a woman's bosom which the open vest bared to the light.
A dead stillness followed this revelation.
And the center of the group stood the beautiful girl in her male attire, her bosom heaving in the light, while her eyes flashed through their tears.
"I will not submit to be made the accomplice of this man's schemes," she pointed to Tarleton,—"As the daughter of Gulian Van Huyden, I cannot inherit my father's estate."
At this point, Gaspar Manuel stepped forward,—"Yes you can, my child," he said, and drew the disguised girl to his breast, "it is your father himself who tells you so, daughter." And he kissed her on the forehead, while his dark hair hid her face.
Then as he held her in his arms, he raised his face, and with one hand, swept back the dark hair from his brow,—"Martin Fulmer, don't you remember me?" and then to Colonel Tarleton,—"and you, brother, you certainly don't forget me?"
That scene cannot be painted in words.
"Gulian!" was all that Tarleton or Charles Van Huyden could say, as he shrank back appalled and blasted before his brother's smile.
As for Martin Fulmer, after one eager and intense look, he felt his knees bend beneath him, and his head droop on his breast, as he uttered his soul in the words,—"It is Gulian come back to life again."