"That interesting and very beautiful young lady whom I saw at your house is your daughter, sir, I presume?" said the stranger to Captain Clydesdale, as they proceeded together towards Park House.
"Yes, sir, she is: that is, I may say she is; for I have brought her up since she was a child; and she has never, at least, not since she was five or six years of age, had any other protector than myself. She never knew her parents."
"Ah! a foundling," said the gentleman.
"Yes, but under rather extraordinary circumstances. I found her amongst the savages of the coast of Guinea."
"On the coast of Guinea!" exclaimed the stranger, in much amazement. "Very extraordinary, indeed. What are the circumstances, if I may inquire?"
Captain Clydesdale related them as they are already before the reader; not omitting to mention the fragment of shift, with the initials on it, and the locket with hair and miniature, which he still carefully kept.
On Captain Clydesdale concluding, the stranger suddenly stopped short, and, looking at the former with a countenance pale with emotion, said—"Good God, sir, what is this? I am bewildered, confounded. I know not what to think. It is possible. Yet it cannot be. My name, sir, is Elderslie, General Elderslie. I have just returned from the East Indies, where I have been for the last seventeen years. Shortly after my going out, my wife and child, a daughter, embarked on board the Isabella from Greenock, to join me at Calcutta. The ship never reached her destination; she was never more heard of; but there was a report that she was seen, if not bespoken, off the Gold Coast; and from there being no trace of her afterwards, it is more than probable that she was wrecked on these shores; and, O God! it is probable also, although I dare not allow myself to believe it, that this girl is—is my child! Let us return, let us return instantly," he added, with increasing agitation, and now grasping Captain Clydesdale by the arm, "that I may see this locket you speak of. I gave such a trinket to my beloved, my unfortunate wife. The initials you mention correspond exactly. My child's name was Julia Elderslie; my own Christian name is James; and the same initials are thus also on the rim of the locket."
"It is precisely so!" said Captain Clydesdale, with a degree of surprise and emotion not less intense than those of the general's. "There are the initials of J. E. also on the locket; and now that my attention is called to the circumstance, there is a strong resemblance between the miniature it encloses, and the person now before me."
"Let us hasten to the house, for God's sake! captain," said the general, with breathless eagerness, "and have this matter cleared up, if possible."
They returned to the house. Captain Clydesdale put the locket and the fragment of the little shift, which bore the initials J. E., into the hands of the general. He glanced at the latter, examined the former for an instant with trembling hands, staggered backwards a pace or two, and sank into a chair. It was the identical locket which, some twenty years before, he had given to his wife. The miniature it contained, introduced into the trinket at a subsequent period, was his own likeness.