Alexandria gazette. [volume] (Alexandria, D.C.) 1834-1974, 1866-08-02

| fatal art AS I recalled under the impetus OF
the strange intelligence, all Wroe had told me
Of his early life, it seemed strange that suS-
picion of the truth had not crossed my mind.
That the kind seaman and his wife, of whom
! he had spoken to me so often, were the same
persons to whom my poor mother had lntrust-
| ed her two eldest children my father death,
was now beyond doubt could well understand,
too that he had dropped the locket on the road,
! that "Seaver' coming along behind, had pick
| ed it up, and passing Wroe, as the latter turned
back, held the locket in his hand when he was
shot. Ny first impulse was to seek my new
| found brother, confess my guilt, implore his
| pardon and begin again al his side the pursuit
| which had proved my uudoiog. But stronger
| than the fear Of his hatred, which [ even now
my dead sister interposed, and [ dashed the
one, and then my thoughts turned again upon
| the locket opened itonce more.
Loren:z was then right-that was my father,
and bedewed his picture with reverential
| tears; and thl&-my poor mother; again the
! striking resemblance to Blanche pressed itself
| upon me with deadening conviction that no
one but my mothers daughter could be so like
| her, aud that she too was my sister. At once
| determined to seek out and know the truth.
| The interest excited by this determination kept
my mind, at least in waking hours, from those
terrible ponderings on my guilt that shook my
reason-the more 50 because 7 feared it would
compel me to confess it. Although [ am certain
no man 10 Alexandria, dreamed OF me as the
author Of the crime, soon began to te watch
full and and anxious This, ia my cooler mo-
mcnss, determined lDeto expedite my depart
urc [ communicated my design to Lorentz
and he accompanied me. He sold our few
household goods, and with many ''God
Speed" that tell in my guilty ears like curses,
! we lett Alexandria, and EN- barking at Baltimore
we're sooa upon the high seas: The more |
| turned the matter over in my mind, as the yes
sci sailed along, the more overwhelming became
the conviction that my elder sister and brother,
left By my mother With John Agram, hsd sep
arated in youth, one to India, and the other TO
the French Islands had grown up under the
names OF John Wroeand Blanche Fordenhame,
and met together The sad adventures have be-
| fore detailed. But the full truth neverknew
! Upon arriving at Martinique found few Of
! my old friends--DO one seemed to ieel al inter-
est in the fate of Blanche: her elopement had
been nine days wonder but the days had now
grown to years; the actors upon the scene had
changed the family died out or gone, and /.
found it difficult to call up the recollection of
an event. which, to my imagination, 1t had
seemed, was the most singular that had ever
happened at that Island | succeeded only,in
finding one or two Of the old servants. All
they knew vas that ;'tthe Princess, as they
still called her, had no relative in the world she
knew One had heard her say she was one Of
four children and had brother who was in the
East Indies. This is all have ever been able
to gather Of her history yet | feel in my heart
with the confidence OF Intimate knowledge, that
she was my sister-the second Of that sad band
Of orphans Of whose fate this narrative is I,ar-
tial record,
The rest is soon told. Ny search for memo,
rials Of Blanche vain my sisters dead l. my
brother estranged what remained for me but
toe quiet GOODNESS CT death to soothe and still
the restless fever that still beat at MY heart and
| called itself life. -.-... .....-..
i Juan O'Donogu, the new Spanish viceroy,
was then in Havana, On his way to the rebel
lious province Of Mexico. A gentleman whom
| had known in Paris was among his suite, and,
at his suggestion, glad to do anything to en-
pIoy my mind l attached myself to the retenue.
/ never drew sober breath. Sometimes
brandy proved a lethean-;s often my drunken
dreams were unutterable horror. / had not
been two hours IN Vera Cruz before l insulted
Mexican officer, and received stab that we'll
.
life blood ehhed away, / grew sober and knew /
was dying. Icared not knowledge promised
50 mueh-tbis was its fu'iiment. What need
care for lite which had been but cheat So
for awhile, [ orbore to call for help, though {
knew we'll, if did rot call soon, should be
past human aid. .... .
And l believe would have died SO, but for
the memory OF my slstcr-of her faith in i'm
mortality. If there was even a chance of meet
ing her again, why should throw it away
This thought kindIed new desire, drove back
the demons that, having won my lite, were
chafering with me Tor my last breath. I called
aloud to every sound | heard. For awhile |
called il vain: but soon Spanish priest heard
me; he came to my assistance and: like the
Good Samaritan, poured oil in all my wounds
Alas | found, God grant it be not too late, my
moral wounds worse than my physical injuries,
but his care cured all. lis a long story but its
substance makes only the lew words: became
christian, and by The advice Of my Samaritan,
took refuge from my pains and perplexltles IN
the Monastery del Santa Cruz, at Comayagua,
Honduras.
Without taking the VOWS of the order, am
permitted for awhile to remain here and seek
the strength | so much need, and here | per
form the first act OF reparation, by committing
this confession to paper.
| never heard again from my brother but,
from his indomitable resolution. l know that de-
spite all obsiacles-he has not yet abandoned his
ideas OF world-conquest. | have more than
once followed, with singular interest, the career
of the present leader of the Carbonari in Eu-
rope and noted many incidents OF his career,
and am convinced that If my brother, whom
this narrative calls "Wroc, sill lives, he passes
now for an Italian and calls himself Joseph