Conscience was forever at work in my mother's heart; honour
was constantly struggling to the surface, only to be held back by fear
of and loyalty to the man she loved.
"It was decided that the most humane way to put you out of existence was
to leave you on the doorstep of some kindly disposed person, far from
New York. My stepfather and my mother deliberately set forth on this
so-called mission of mercy. They came north, and by chance, fell in with
a resident of Boggs City while in the station at Albany. They were
debating which way to turn for the next step. My mother was firm in the
resolve that you should be left in the care of honest, reliable,
tender-hearted people, who would not abuse the trust she was to impose.
The Boggs City man said he had been in Albany to see about a bill in the
legislature, which was to provide for the erection of a monument in
Tinkletown--where a Revolutionary battle had been fought. It was he who
spoke of Anderson Crow, and it was his stories of your goodness and
generosity, Mr. Crow, that caused them to select you as the man who was
to have Rosalie, and, with her, the sum of one thousand dollars a year
for your trouble and her needs.
"My mother's description of that stormy night in February, more than
twenty-one years ago, is the most pitiful thing I have ever listened to.
Together they made their way to Tinkletown, hiring a vehicle in Boggs
City for the purpose.
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