The Signor cooled down, and proposed to go for her himself.  But that was overruled, in a very kind way, by his prudent wife, who argued that he was not well enough for such an exciting adventure, or to be left without her nursing, when his mind would be such a prey to uneasiness.  It was her proposition to send at once for her cousin Duroy, and have him receive very particular directions from Tom how to reach the island and find the cottage.  Tom said he didn’t know whether he could get away for an hour again, because his master was always very angry if he was out of the way when called; but if Mr. Duroy would come to the hotel, he would find chances to tell him what to do.  And that plan was immediately carried into effect.

While these things were going on in New Orleans, Mrs. Fitzgerald was taking frequent drives about the lovely island with her mother, Mrs. Bell; while Rosa was occasionally perambulating her little circuit of woods on the back of patient Thistle.  One day Mrs. Fitzgerald and her mother received an invitation to the Welby plantation, to meet some Northern acquaintances who were there; and as Mrs. Fitzgerald’s strength was not yet fully restored, Mrs. Welby proposed that they should remain all night.  Chloe, who had lost her own baby, was chosen to nurse her master’s new-born heir, and was consequently tied so closely that she could find no chance to go to the cottage, whose inmates she had a great longing to see.  But when master and mistress were both gone, she thought she might take her freedom for a while without incurring any great risk.  The other servants agreed to keep her secret, and Joe the coachman promised to drive her most of the way when he came back with the carriage.  Accordingly, she made her appearance at the cottage quite unexpectedly, to the great joy of Tulee.

When she unwrapped the little black-haired baby from its foldings of white muslin, Tulee exclaimed:  “He looks jus’ like his good-for-nothing father; and so does Missy Rosy’s baby.  I’m ’fraid ’t will make poor missy feel bad to see it, for she don’t know nothin’ ’bout it.”

“Yes I do, Tulee,” said Rosa, who had heard Chloe’s voice, and gone out to greet her.  “I heard Tom tell you about it.”

She took up the little hand, scarcely bigger than a bird’s claw, and while it twined closely about her finger, she looked into its eyes, so like to Gerald’s in shape and color.  She was hoping that those handsome eyes might never be used as his had been, but she gave no utterance to her thoughts.  Her manner toward Chloe was full of grateful kindness; and the poor bondwoman had some happy hours, playing free for a while.  She laid the infant on its face in her lap, trotting it gently, and patting its back, while she talked over with Tulee all the affairs at the “Grat Hus.”  And when the babe was asleep, she asked and obtained Rosa’s permission to lay him on her bed beside his little brother.  Then poor Chloe’s soul took wing and soared aloft among sun-lighted clouds.  As she prayed, and sang her fervent hymns, and told of her visions and revelations, she experienced satisfaction similar to that of a troubadour, or palmer from Holy Land, with an admiring audience listening to his wonderful adventures.