CHAPTER III.

  THE MISSING RING.

  Shortly after Mary had left the Castle the Countess missed a valuablediamond ring. No one had been in the room where she had left it butMary, and it is not surprising that suspicion fell upon the humbleflower-girl. Calling Amelia to her, the Countess told her of her lossand of her suspicions, and bade her go to the cottage in order that shemight induce Mary to restore the ring before the theft became known.

  When Amelia arrived at Mary's home, the young girl was busily engagedtrying on her beautiful dress. She was frightened to see the youngCountess enter her little room, pale and trembling, and out of breathwith her haste.

  "Dear Mary," said Amelia, "what have you been doing? My mother'sdiamond ring, which she left lying in the room where you were, is lost.No one has been in the chamber but you. Do give it up at once, and noharm will be done."

  The unexpected charge of theft stunned and frightened Mary. Earnestlyshe declared her innocence. She had never seen the ring, nor had shemoved from the place where she stood when she entered the room. ButAmelia found it impossible to believe her, and continued to urge her togive up the ring, which she said was worth a large sum of money. To besuspected of theft was bad enough, but to have her friend Ameliaunwilling to believe her, made Mary burst into tears.

  "Truly," she cried, "I have no ring. Never in all my life have Iventured to touch anything which did not belong to me, much less tosteal. My dear father has always taught me better."

  Her father, who had been at work in his garden, now came in to learnthe young Countess's errand, and to him Amelia told the story. Shockedbeyond measure at the charge, the old man was so overcome that he wasobliged to sink into a chair.

  "My dear child," he said to Mary solemnly, "to steal a ring of thisprice is a crime which in this country is punished with death. Butthis is not all. Your action is not only one for which you mustaccount to men, but to that God who reads the heart and with whom allfalse denials amount to nothing. Have you forgotten His holycommandment, 'Thou shalt not steal?' Have you forgotten all the advicethat I have given you? Were you tempted with the gold and the preciousstones? Alas, do not deny the fact, but give back the ring to theCountess. It is the only return you can make for your crime."

  "My father, oh, my father," cried Mary, weeping bitterly, "be sure, bevery sure that I have not the ring. If I had even found such a ring onthe road I could not have rested till I had restored it to its owner.Indeed, believe me, I have it not."

  "Look at this dear young lady," said the old man, without replying toMary's protestations, "her affection for you is so great that shewishes to save you from the hands of justice. Mary, be frank, and donot add falsehood to the crime of theft."

  "My father," cried Mary, "well do you know that never in my life have Istolen even the smallest coin, and how should I take anything sovaluable as the Countess's ring? I pray you, believe me; I have neverin my life told you a lie."

  "Mary," again said her father, "see my grey hairs. Do not bring themdown with sorrow to the grave. Spare me so great an affliction. Beforethat God who made you, into whose presence there can come no thief,tell me if you have the ring?"

  Thus adjured, Mary raised her eyes, and once more assured her father inthe most solemn manner that she was innocent of the charge. The old manhad put his daughter to a severe test, and now he was satisfied of herinnocence.

  "My child," he cried, "I do believe you. You would not dare to tell alie in the presence of God and before this young Countess and yourfather. You are innocent, and therefore you may take comfort and fearnothing. There is nothing to fear on earth but sin. Prison and deathare not to be compared to it. Whatever happens, we will put our trustin God. All will yet come right, for He says, 'I will make thyrighteousness as the light and thy just dealings as the noonday.'"

  Touched to the heart by the old man's faith, Amelia's suspicions alsovanished. "Truly," she said, "when I hear you speak in this way, Ibelieve that you have not the ring; but when I examine all thecircumstances how can I help believing? My mother says she knowsexactly the place where she laid it down. Not a living soul has been inthe room but Mary, and as soon as she left the Castle my mother missedthe ring. Who else, then, can have taken it?"

  "It is impossible for me to say," replied Mary's father. "May Godprepare us for a severe trial, but whatever happens," said he, turninghis eyes to heaven, "I am ready. Give me but Thy grace, O Lord; it isall I ask."

  "Truly," said Amelia, "I came here with a heavy heart. It will be forme the saddest birthday I have ever had. My mother has not yet spokento any one of her loss but myself, but it will not be possible to keepthe secret much longer. My father returns to the Castle at noon, and hewill certainly ask her where the ring is. It was a gift to her on theday when I was born, and on every succeeding birthday she has worn it.Farewell," said Amelia, turning to Mary, "I will tell my mother that Iconsider you are innocent, but who will believe me?" Her eyes filledwith tears, and she left the cottage with a sad heart.

  After the young Countess had gone, Mary's father sat for a long timeresting his head on his hand and with his eyes fixed on the ground. Thetears fell down his wrinkled cheeks, and Mary, touched by his grief,threw herself at his knees and besought him to believe in herinnocence.

  The old man raised himself and looked for a long time in her eyes, andthen said--

  "Yes, Mary, you are innocent. That look, where integrity and truth arepainted, cannot be the look of guilt."

  "But, my father," asked Mary, "what will be the end of it? What willthey do to us? I do not fear what they may do to me, but the idea thatyou may have to suffer on my account is intolerable."

  "Have faith in God," answered her father. "Take courage. Not one hairof our heads can fall to the ground without His permission. All thathappens to us is the will of God, and what more can we wish? Do not befrightened into saying anything but what is strictly true. If theythreaten you, or if they hold out promises, do not depart ahair's-breadth from the truth. Keep your conscience free from offence,for a clear conscience is a soft pillow. Perhaps they will separate us,and I shall no longer be with you to console; but if this should happencling more closely to your heavenly Father. He is a powerful protectorto innocence, and no earthly power can deprive you of His strength."

  Suddenly the door opened with a noise, and an officer entered, followedby two constables. Mary uttered a piercing shriek, and fell into herfather's arms.

  "Separate them," cried the officer angrily; "let her father also be putin custody. Set a watch on the house and garden. Make a strict searcheverywhere, and allow no one to enter until the sheriff has made aninventory."

  Mary clung to her father with all her force, but the officers tore herfrom the old man's arms. In a fainting state she was carried off toprison.

  The story of the lost ring had spread through the whole village ofEichbourg, and when Mary and her father were taken through the streets,the crowd pressed round them filled with curiosity. It was curious tonotice how diverse were the opinions which were pronounced on the oldman and his daughter. They had been kind to all, but there were somewho repaid their kindness by rejoicing in their present affliction.Although they had accepted the old man's gifts, their jealousy and envyhad been excited by the thought of his superior position.

  "Now," they exclaimed maliciously, "we know how it is that James hadalways so many good things to give away. If this is what the old manand his daughter have been doing, it was easy to live in abundance andbe better clothed than their honest neighbours."

  It is true that most of the inhabitants of Eichbourg were sincerelysorry for James and his daughter, although many of them felt compelledto believe in Mary's guilt. Fathers and mothers were heard to say, "Whowould have believed this thing of these good people? Truly it provesthat the best of us are liable to fall." But there were others who werepersuaded of Mary's innocence, and said, "Perhaps it is not so bad asit appears. May their innocence be brought out when the trial comes,and may God help them
to escape the terrible fate which now hangs overthem."

  Groups of children, to whom Mary had given fruit and flowers, stoodweeping as they saw their kind friend being carried off to prison.

 
Christoph von Schmid's Novels