Jaspar yielded the point; but Maxwell, in the hope of gaining time, boldly proclaimed all the papers forgeries.
“It matters not; we will not stop to discuss the matter now. Tie his hands, Hatchie,” said Henry Carroll, and, with the assistance of others, he was bound, and handed over to a constable, upon the warrant of Mr. Faxon, who was a justice.
The party separated,—Henry and Emily seeking the grove in front of the house, to congratulate each other on the happy termination of their season of difficulty. The meeting between Dr. Vaudelier and his son and daughter was extremely interesting, and the hours passed rapidly away, in listening to the experience of each other. The meeting concluded with the making of new resolves, on the part of Dalhousie, to seek “the great purpose of his life” by higher and nobler means.
As the dinner-hour approached, the happy parties were summoned by Mr. Faxon to visit his house, and partake of his hospitality. The good man was never happier in his life than when he said grace over the noon-day meal, surrounded by the restored heiress of Bellevue, and her happy friends.
“From that day
forth, in peace and joyous bliss,
They lived together long, without debate;
Nor private jars nor spite of enemies
Could shake the safe assurance of their states.”
Our story is told. It only remains to condense the subsequent lives of our characters into a few lines.
Jaspar Dumont lingered along a few weeks after the return of Emily; but his life had lost its vitality. Continued devotion to the demon of the bottle laid him low,—he was found dead in the library, having been stricken with an apoplectic fit.
After the death of Jaspar, Maxwell was tried for a variety of crimes, and sentenced to the penitentiary for ten years.
Dr. Vaudelier, accompanied by Dalhousie and his wife, removed to New Orleans, where they spent many happy years, devoted to those pure principles of truth and justice which the events of our history contributed not a little to create and strengthen.
Vernon,—or, as he has changed his character, we may venture to change his name,—Jerome Vaudelier, went to California in the first of the excitement; where, amid the temptations of that new and dissolute land, he yet maintains the integrity he vowed to cherish on the night of the attack upon Cottage Island.
Uncle Nathan and Pat Fegan spent a few days at Bellevue, and then started for the North. The honest yeoman, either on account of the many adventures they had passed through together, or because Pat was a true convert of his, had taken quite a fancy to the Hibernian, and insisted that he should accompany him home. Pat became a very worthy man, after abandoning the “critter,” which had been his greatest bane. For three years he served our New Englander