How did it come to pass?
The paragraph in the Times correctly detailed what had happened to him on his voyage out up to the moment of placing him insensible on board the “Ripon.”
What followed may be given in a few words.
He was borne to his berth, where he was immediately attended by two or three doctors, who, in addition to the regular medical officer, happened to be on board on their way out to India. He was speedily resuscitated, though not restored to consciousness, and eventually he became so ill that he was landed, under advice, at Malta, for it was considered that to prosecute his journey to India while so prostrated would only be to ensure his death.
Here he lay in a hospital, hovering on the confines of death; in the event of recovery the probabilities were great that insanity would take, during the remainder of his future life, the place of reason.
Events, however, frequently falsify predictions and upset the most careful calculations. A crisis in his illness arrived—passed—left him miserably weak, but with clear, sentient reasoning powers.
His uncle had read the paragraph in the newspaper, and having encountered it without preparation, it shocked him inexpressibly. It erased out of his heart many hard, cold, and worldly conceits and maxims of which he had made principles, and it placed gentler emotions there: feelings and intentions far more in accordance with the Divine precepts than had ever before had a place in his bosom.
He had no child, had never been married, and was enormously wealthy.
“Hugh is my own flesh and blood,” he said, in communing with himself upon this event. “I will treat him as my son: there is enough for him and me, and for the future we will live happily together. I will go to his mother at once.”
He did so, there to learn that Hugh’s indisposition to go to India and his act of folly were the consequences of love.