The close was a leave-taking, in which the
lingering affections of this life were placed in mournful contrast to the
hopes of the future.
"Why has this so long been hidden from me?" demanded the agitated
merchant--"Why, oh reckless and fearless man! have I been permitted to
expose the frailties of nature to my own child?"
The smile of the free-trader was bitter, and proud.
"Mr. Van Beverout, we are no dealers of the short voyage. Our trade is
the concern of life;--our world, the Water-Witch. As we have so little of
the interests of the land, our philosophy is above its weaknesses. The
birth of Eudora was concealed from you, at the will of her grandfather. It
might have been resentment;--it might have been pride.--Had it been
affection, the girl has that to justify the fraud."
"And Eudora, herself?--Does she--or has she long known the truth?"
"But lately. Since the death of our common friend, the girl has been
solely dependent on me for counsel and protection. It is now a year since
she first learned she was not my sister. Until then, like you, she
supposed us equally derived from one who was the parent of neither.
Necessity has compelled me, of late, to keep her much in the brigantine."
"The retribution is righteous!" groaned the Alderman, "I am punished for
my pusillanimity, in the degradation of my own child!"
The step of the free-trader, as he advanced nearer to his companion, was
full of dignity; and his keen eye glowed with the resentment of an
offended man.
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