The other edifice, a one-storied hovel, was the home of a mechanic and his young wife. His name was John Hoffman, his trade that of a stone mason, and at the period of this narrative, he was miserably poor.
Now, during the night of Christmas eve (and while the banquet was in progress in Gulian's city mansion), an unknown person, thickly cloaked, entered the hovel of the mechanic, bearing a new-born child in his arms. An interview followed between the unknown, John Hoffman, and his wife. The mechanic and his wife consented to adopt the child in place of one which they had recently lost. The stranger with the child, gave them a piece of parchment, which bore on one side, the initials, "G. G. V. H. C." and on the other the name of "Dr. Martin Fulmer," an eccentric physician, well known in New York. This parchment deposited in a letter addressed to Dr. Fulmer, and sent to the post office once a quarter, would be returned to the mechanic, accompanied by the sum of a hundred dollars. John was especially enjoined to keep this interview and its results a secret from the Doctor. Having deposited the child and parchment with the worthy couple, the stranger departed, and was never again seen by the mechanic or his wife.
Within an hour of this singular interview the mistress of Charles Van Huyden, returned to her home (from which she had been absent for a brief period)—flakes of snow upon her dress and upon her disordered hair—and placed upon her bed, the burden which she carried, a new-born infant, enveloped in a shawl. As the fallen, but by no means altogether depraved woman, surveyed this infant, she also beheld her own child, sleeping in a cradle not far from the bed—a daughter some three months old, and named after its mother Frank, that is, Francis Van Huyden.
Christmas Eve passed away, and Christmas morning was near. Dr. Martin Fulmer was suddenly summoned to Gulian's mansion. And Gulian, fresh from the scenes of the banquet room, met the Doctor in an obscure garret of his mansion. He first bound the Doctor by an oath, to yield implicit obedience to all his wishes, an oath which appealed to all that was superstitious, as well as to all that was truly religious in the Doctor's nature, and then the interview followed, terrible and momentous in its details and its results. These results stretch over a period of twenty-one years—from December 25, 1823, to December 25, 1844. This interview over, Gulian left the Doctor (who, stupefied and awe-stricken by the words which he had just heard, sank kneeling on the floor of the room in which the interview had taken place), and silently departed from his mansion. He bent his steps to the Battery. And then—young, handsome, the possessor of enormous wealth—he left this life with the same composure, that he had just departed from his mansion. In plain words, he plunged into the river, and met the death of the suicide in its ice-burdened waves, while his brother Charles (whom we forgot to state, had accompanied him from the threshold of his home), stood affrighted and appalled on the shore.
Meanwhile, Dr. Martin Fulmer (bound by his oath), descended from the garret into a bedchamber of the Van Huyden mansion. Upon the bed was stretched a beautiful but dying woman. It was Alice Van Huyden, the young wife of Gulian. All night long (while the banquet progressed in another apartment) she had wrestled in the agonies of maternity, unwatched and alone. She had given birth to a child, but when the Dr. stood by the bed, the child had been removed by unknown hands.
Convinced of his wife's infidelity—believing that his own brother Charles was the author of his dishonor—Gulian had left his mansion, his wealth, life and all its hopes, to meet the death of the suicide in the waves of Manhattan Bay.
And Dr. Martin Fulmer, but a few hours ago a poor man, now found himself, as he stood by the bed of the dying wife, the sole trustee of the Van Huyden Estate.
His trust was to continue for twenty-one years. In case of his death, he had power to appoint a successor. And at the end of twenty-one years, on the 25th of December, 1844, the estate (swelled by the accumulations of twenty-one years), was, by the will of Gulian Van Huyden, to be disposed of in this wise:
I. In case a son of Gulian should appear on that day (December 25th, 1844), the estate should descend absolutely to him. Or,
II. In case on the day named, it should be proven to the satisfaction of the Trustee, that such a son had been in existence, but had met his death in a truly just cause, then the estate was to be disposed of, according to the directions embodied in a sealed codicil (which was not to be opened until December 25, 1844). But in case such a son did not appear, and in case his death in a truly just cause was not proven on the appointed day, then,