“I have requested you to come down, sir,” said Mr John Forster, “that I might not, without being certain, raise hopes in your brother the marquis, which, if not realised, would create bitter feelings of disappointment; but I remarked the initials on the linen of the child; and if my memory, which is not very bad, fails me not, we shall find corresponding ones in the packet now before us;” and the old lawyer opened the bundle and displayed the contents, which proved to be marked as he had surmised.

“Most true,” replied Monsieur de Fontanges.  “They are the same, and of course part of the property which was picked up.”

“Yes; but not picked up at the same time, or at the same spot, or by the same person.  Those above stairs were, as you know, picked up by my nephew; these by a brother, who is since dead:  and in these clothes an infant was also washed upon the beach.”

“His child!” exclaimed Monsieur de Fontanges.  “Where was it buried?”

“The child was restored to life, and is still living.”

“If it is,” replied Monsieur de Fontanges, “it can be no other than the young lady who just now called you father.  The likeness to Madame la Marquise is most astonishing.”

“It is as you suppose, sir,” replied Mr John Forster.  “At my brother’s death, he bequeathed the little girl to my protection; and I trust I have done justice to the deposit.  Indeed, although an alien by blood, she is as dear to me as if she were my own daughter:  and,” continued the old lawyer, hesitating a little, “although I have the satisfaction of restoring her to her father’s arms, it will be a heavy blow to part with her!  When my brother spoke to me on the subject, I told him it was trouble and expense enough to bring up a child of one’s own begetting.  I little thought at the time how much more I should be vexed at parting with one of another’s.  However, with the bundle, she must be returned to the lawful owner.  I have one more remark to make, sir.  Do me the favour to look at that drawing of my poor brother’s, which hangs over the sideboard.  Do you recognise the portrait?”

“Triton!” cried Monsieur de Fontanges; “the dog which I gave my poor sister-in-law!”

“You are indebted to that dog for the life of your niece.  He brought her on shore, and laid her at my brother’s feet; but I have all the documents, which I will send for your perusal.  The facts I consider so well established as to warrant a verdict in any court of justice; and now, sir, I must leave you to make the communication as soon, and, at the same time, as cautiously as you please.  Newton, send Amber down to me.”

We will pass over the scenes which followed in the dining-parlour and drawing-room.  The Marquis de Fontanges discovered that he was blest with a daughter, at the same time that Amber learnt her own history.  In a few minutes Amber was led upstairs to the arms of her father, whose tears of sorrow at the loss of his wife were now mingled with those of delight, as he clasped his daughter to his heart.