"There was, indeed, a beautiful, and, as you say, a most warm-hearted
girl, in the concern!" he uttered, in a voice that was subdued and hoarse.
"She died, as I have heard from thyself, Master Skimmer, in the Italian
seas. I never saw the father, after the last visit of his child to this
coast."
"She did die, among the islands of the Mediterranean. But the void she
left in the hearts of all who knew her, was filled, in time, by
her--daughter."
The Alderman started from his chair, and, looking the free-trader intently
and anxiously in the face, he slowly repeated the word--
"Daughter!"
"I have said it.--Eudora is the daughter of that injured woman--need I
say, who is the father?"
The burgher groaned, and, covering his face with his hands, he sunk back
into his chair, shivering convulsively.
"What evidence have I of this?" he at length muttered--"Eudora is thy
sister!"
The answer of the free-trader was accompanied by a melancholy smile.
"You have been deceived. Save the brigantine my being is attached to
nothing. When my own brave father fell by the side of him who protected my
youth, none of my blood were left. I loved him as a father, and he called
me son, while Eudora was passed upon you as the child of a second marriage
But here is sufficient evidence of her birth."
The Alderman took a paper, which his companion put gravely into his hand,
and his eyes ran eagerly over its contents.
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