Part 20 (1/2)
”Yes, mon pere,” said old Judy, in half French, half English, ”there is the '_chandel_,' the '_eau-benite_,' the '_la croix_,' and the rest, that I keep many year for my deathday.”
It was only when she retired from the chamber that the priest caught a full view of the fair Alia; and now
”A strange emotion worked within him, more Than mere compa.s.sion ever worked before.”
He saw in this interesting stranger the strongest resemblance to his own sister Bridget. There were the same raven hair, the same candid and large eyes, the same broad and well-set teeth so peculiar to the O'Clerys, and the same form almost to a line. The groans and urgent call of his penitent Judy, however, soon recalled his mind from its reveries, and he banished all thoughts of Alia, as temptations, or, at least, speculations, which it was for the present useless to entertain. He put on his stole, and after a short aspiration for light and grace to discharge his duty to the sick woman, was just in the act of repeating the prayer, ”_Dominus sit in corde tuo et in labiis_,”--”May the Lord be in your heart and lips,”--when the creature, raising herself up in her bed, prevented him, saying, ”Mon pere, I vant, before I begin the confession, to tell you a secret that burden my mind long time.”
She then proceeded to tell how that young lady he had just seen had been adopted, or rather kidnapped, by the family she now lived with; how her name was changed from Aloysia to Alia; how this scheme was planned and carried out by Miss Sillerman, Mrs. Goldrich's sister, who died not long since; how, till of late, she was brought up as one of the family; how carefully she was instructed in all the ways of the Presbyterians; and, above all, how they endeavored to conceal her family name, for fear of being claimed by her friends. ”But, mon pere,” said she, in continuation, ”though I forget the family name of this young, lubly lady, I have an article here (loosing an old-fas.h.i.+oned workbag) which may tell her family name.”
With that she handed Father Paul a neat ruby necklace, with a rather heavy gold clasp, on which were carved deeply a cross, interwoven with shamrocks, with these words, in italics, ”_The O'C---- Arms_.” This was enough for Paul O'Clery; he had no doubt of having seen and conversed with his own dear, long-lost sister, a few moments before. He sunk down on his knees, buried his face in his hands, and tried as well as he could to suppress the emotions that pervaded his bosom. After having prepared old Judy for heaven,--having first prevailed on her to make these disclosures in presence of witnesses, on condition that the circ.u.mstances of her revelation should not be published till after her death,--the priest retired from that palace, promising to call again, accompanied with another gentleman, in the afternoon. Lest his feelings should betray him, he retired from the house with as little delay as was consistent with politeness; and he trembled all over as he a second time returned the greeting of his dear Aloysia, as she conducted him to the door.
With as little delay as possible, he sought the office of his legal adviser, and, accompanied by a judge of the Supreme Court of eminent character, and the legal adviser, and a third, all Protestant gentlemen, he sought the sick chamber of the old negress again, and there her deposition, and a confirmation of her previous account of Alia's bringing up and captivity, were obtained. They had scarcely concluded her testimony, when poor Judy bid farewell to the world and its crosses, and the priest had the satisfaction of bidding G.o.d speed to her soul in its pa.s.sage to eternity, having read for her the last benediction a second time.
The presence of so many strangers in the house naturally created some surprise among the inmates, and shortly the death chamber of Judy was filled with the members of the family, of both s.e.xes.
An explanation of this unusual and unauthorized proceeding was demanded by Mrs. Goldrich, which the eminent judge consented to give, provided an _adjournment_ to a more appropriate court was agreed to.
His honor was in the act of unravelling the mysterious but well-connected development of old Judy--a work of supererogation on his part, as far as madam was concerned--when the fair-faced Alia herself made her appearance; and her reverend brother Paul, no longer able to check his feelings, sprang forward, and, seizing her white hand, kissed it, saying, ”My dearest sister Aloysia, welcome to the embrace of your brother! 'You were lost, and I have found you; you were dead, and are again come to life! Rejoice, and be glad.'”
This was too much happiness for Alia to bear up against without momentarily yielding to the shock, and she sank, as if lifeless, on a couch. She was soon restored, however, and surrounded by the seemingly affectionate caresses of her envious _mother_ and jealous sisters. She had to hear all their arguments to persuade her to prefer her present splendid misery to the equivocal boon of having found out a poor, dest.i.tute brother, though it was not yet clear whether she could call him by that name. Appearances were deceitful.
Father Paul listened meekly to the smooth discourses and flattering promises of the rich lady and her children, not doubting, if she were an O'Clery, which side she would choose.
”You are young, my dear Aloysia, but yet at or near the age of mature understanding; and I know a brother cannot command you as a parent could in this 'free country.' You have your choice--the traditional glory of the old family of O'Clery, two brothers, and a sister as fair as yourself, together with the old faith of St. Patrick,--the glorious CROSS and the immortal SHAMROCK,--all these balanced against this grand palace, probably great earthly comforts, and a religion that 'is not fit for a gentleman.' Have your choice; choose boldly, and at once, and free your brother from suspense.”
”Are you my brother?” she said, wildly, ”or do I dream? Have I a brother on earth, and one so worthy as thou? O, I have no second choice,” she cried, falling at his feet, and wetting them with her tears.
”Plant this Cross in my bosom, And this Shamrock in my hair; And these are the only ornaments I ever again shall wear.”
The spirited girl prepared immediately to quit the splendid palace, and she came to the resolution of taking nothing with her, either of dress, or trinkets, or jewelry. ”Naked and bare I came into this family, and with one single dress shall I leave it,” said she, ”feeling sufficiently enriched in what I have this day found--a brother, with the Cross and Shamrock of the O'Clerys. O, what complete changes! Instead of Alia, I am Aloysia; instead of Goldrich, I am O'Clery.”
Paul did not think it prudent to allow his sister to quit the house of her rich patrons so quickly, especially as Mr. Goldrich was from home, and till the public should be satisfied, and all doubts about her ident.i.ty resolved. There was some opposition made by the parsons, one of whom, a Mr. Cashman, was long fis.h.i.+ng for the fair hand of Aloysia; but this little dust raised by the ”white necks” was soon hushed, when the record of the baptism of Miss O'Clery was produced, and when the book of heraldry was consulted to verify the armorial bearings of the O'Clerys, which were, as we said, carved on the clasp of her necklace; and, above all, when, on the left-hand ring finger of the young lady, the same impression of a ring appeared which several persons testified having seen on it when an infant.
CHAPTER XXV.
CONCLUSION.
During the _denouement_ of the events recorded in the preceding chapter, and the discussion of them by the various _religious_ newspapers,--each of which, like a well-trained spaniel, tried to bark so as to secure the approbation of those from whom it derived its food,--Father O'Clery continued in the discharge of his ordinary duties as if nothing strange had happened. He addressed one letter on the subject to the leading secular journals of the city, showing, by the most convincing chain of evidence, the ident.i.ty of the lady pa.s.sing so long for a daughter of Mr.
Goldrich with his own younger and long-lost sister, and satisfying all but fanatics and bigots of his prudence, and the propriety of the steps taken by him for her recovery.