Upon a large flat rock Uncle Joshua sat down, while his long gray locks were tossed by the November wind which swept mournfully by, bearing on its wing the bitter tones with which the stricken father bewailed his loss. "Everything goes ag'in me," said he, "everything--she's dead and, worse than all, died by her own hand." Then, as if void of reason, he arose, and over the craggy hillside and down the dark, rolling river echoed the loud, shrill cry of, "Julia, Julia, oh, my child! Come back, come back! Why was you left to break your old father's heart?" And to that wail of sorrow only the moaning wind replied, and faster the waters of the Kentucky rolled on.
They took the old man home, and long weary days went by, during which the river near the landing was dragged again and again, and still no trace of the missing girl was found. Then, as hope began to whisper that possibly she was not dead, the papers far and near contained advertisements for her, and by the side of that appeared another for a lunatic girl, who had escaped from the asylum at Lexington.
Four weeks went by, and the waters of the Kentucky frowned angrily "in the gray December light," making Uncle Joshua shudder whenever he chanced to pass by, and thought perhaps his daughter lay sleeping in their cold embrace. A gloomy drizzly day was settling into a dark rainy night, when two young men, who, either for business or pleasure, had rowed across the river some miles from Woodford Landing, started to return home. They had stepped into their boat and were about pushing off when among some driftwood which lay not far from the shore, they thought they descried a female's garment floating on the water. The spot was soon reached, and to their horror they discovered the body of a young girl, which, from its appearance, must have been in the water some time. They had heard the story of Julia, and readily concluded that the bloated, disfigured form before them must have been she. Taking her to the nearest dwelling, they dispatched a messenger for Mr. Middleton, who, now that his worst fears were confirmed, seemed paralyzed with the shock.
"Oh, I cannot go!" said he, "I cannot. Is there no one to do it for me?"
Dr. Lacey, who chanced to be present, said, "For your sake, sir, and for Fanny's, I will go."