His worldly affairs had all been arranged, and with his mind at peace
with God and man he bade a final adieu to his weeping daughter and
dissembling brother, and calmly resigned his spirit to its Author.
The mansion of Colonel Dumont had been the abode of happiness.
Cheerfulness and contentment--rare visitors at the home of
opulence--dwelt gracefully amid the luxurious splendor of this house.
But now a heavy stroke of affliction had come upon the devoted Emily.
The ruthless hand of death had struck down her father in the midst of
prosperity and happiness. She felt that she was alone in the world. Her
unsympathizing uncle seemed not to feel the loss, but appeared even more
cold and churlish than ever. She could not expect from him the offices
of kindness and sympathy. She was an orphan, but not till she was
prepared to combat with the trials of life. Recognizing the hand of
Providence in this visitation of the Angel of Death, she bowed meekly
and submissively to the Master Will, and was even cheerful and happy in
her tears.
It was about ten o'clock on the night succeeding the funeral of Colonel
Dumont that a small canoe, containing a single individual, touched at
the bank of the river near the now gloomy mansion.
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