Chapter 15
How the Ring Was Found
The road to the castle towards which the countess now led Mary lay through a long, dark walk of tall old linden trees. For a while they walked in silence together, each wrapped in her own thoughts, but at last, the countess said to Mary—
“Oh, I must now tell you how the ring was found. My father’s affairs requiring his presence at Eichbourg, we left court earlier than usual this year—at the beginning of March.
“When we arrived at the castle, the weather was very boisterous, and one night in particular we had a tremendous storm. You remember the great pear tree we had in our garden at Eichbourg?
“It was very old and bore scarcely any fruit. That night the wind, which blew with great violence, had shaken it so much that it threatened every moment to fall, and my father ordered it to be cut down.
“My father, and mother, the children, and servants, and indeed all of the people in the castle, came into the garden to see it fall. As soon as it was cut down, my two little brothers ran immediately towards a magpie’s nest in the tree, which had for a long time been a coveted object, but had hitherto been out of their reach. Now they seized upon the nest and busied themselves examining its contents.
“‘Look, Albert!’ said Augustus, ‘what is that shining among the twigs? How bright it is!’
“‘It sparkles like gold,’ said Albert.
“My maid, Juliette, ran forward to look at it and immediately uttered a scream.
“‘Oh,’ she cried, ‘it is the ring!’ and became as pale as death.
“The children extricated the ring from among the twigs and carried it in great glee to my mother.
“‘Yes, indeed it is my ring,’ said my mother, with deep emotion. ‘Oh, good and honest James! Oh, poor Mary, what injustice we have done you! I am glad enough to find my ring again, but if I could find James and Mary, I would gladly sacrifice the ring to repair the wrong which we have done them.’
“I was curious to know by what chance the ring was carried into the magpie’s nest at the top of the tree, and the old huntsman, Anthony, gave a ready explanation.
“‘Neither the gardener James nor his daughter could have hidden the ring in this place, that is very clear,’ said he. ‘The tree was too high, and it would have been impossible to climb up so far. Besides which, they had not time to do so. Mary had scarcely returned to the house when she and her father were both arrested. Magpies are greatly attracted by anything that shines, and if they can find anything sparkling, they carry it off immediately to their nests. One of these birds must have stolen the ring, and carried it to the tree. That is all the mystery. The only thing that astonishes me is that an old hunter, as I am, should not have thought sooner of this explanation.’
“The old man spoke with deep feeling and with tears in his eyes, but they were tears of joy at seeing your innocence proved.
“‘Anthony,’ said my mother, ‘I believe you are perfectly right, and now I remember quite distinctly that very often these birds came from the top of this tree to my window, that the sash was open when the ring disappeared, that the table on which I put the ring was close to the window, and that, after having shut the door and bolted it, I went into the next room, where I stayed for some time. No doubt one of these mischievous birds saw the ring from its nest, and, while I was in the other room, he must have darted in and carried it off.’
“My father was deeply troubled at the conviction, which he could not resist, that you and your father had been unjustly condemned.
“‘My heart is almost broken,’ said he, ‘for having done these good people so much injury. My only consolation is that it was not done from ill-will, but in ignorance and error.’
“My father now turned to Juliette, who in the universal rejoicing at the discovery of the ring remained silent and pale.
“‘False woman,’ said he, ‘deceitful servant! How could you have the hardihood to lie to me and to the judge, and to compel us to commit an action unwillingly, the iniquity of which now calls for vengeance? What tempted you to plunge into suffering an old and honest man, and his poor and virtuous daughter?’
“‘Officers, do your duty,’ he said to two constables, who had assisted in cutting down the tree, and who now approached the unhappy Juliette to carry out my father’s orders. ‘Let her be put in chains,’ he added, in a grave tone,—’the same chains that Mary wore,—and let her be thrown into the same prison in which she caused Mary to languish. She must suffer all that Mary suffered, only that, unlike Mary, she deserves it. What she has been able to hoard of money or clothes shall be taken from her, to compensate, if it be possible, the unhappy old man and his daughter who have had to suffer an unjust sentence. The officer who conducted Mary out of my dominions shall also conduct Juliette, just as she is, to the same place.’
“No one had ever seen my father so exasperated, never had anyone heard him speak in such passionate tones. For a while everyone was silent, but at last, the officers and servants gave voice to their sentiments and thoughts.
“‘It is well done,’ said one of the officers, seizing Juliette by the arm; ‘when one digs another’s grave he must fill it himself.’
“‘That is what is gained by telling falsehoods,’ said the other officer. ‘It is true that no thread is so fine that it cannot be seen in the sunshine.’
“‘It was a pretty dress which the young countess gave to Mary,’ said the cook in her turn, ‘that made Juliette angry. In her rage, and not knowing well what she was about, she began to tell lies, and then it was impossible to retract without acknowledging her guilt. The proverb is true which says that, once the devil has us by the hair, he will hold fast to us afterwards.’
“‘It is well, it is well,’ said the coachman, who had just finished cutting the tree, and who still had the axe over his shoulder. ‘Let us hope she will mend her ways, if she does not wish to be worse off in the next world. The tree that bears not good fruit,’ said he, shaking his axe, ‘shall be cut down, and cast into the fire.’
“The news of the finding of the ring spread through Eichbourg in a very short time, and everyone ran to the place, so that in a little while a great crowd had gathered. The judge who condemned you came also, and every witness of the discovery was as eager as possible to tell him all about it.
“You cannot imagine, my dear Mary,” the countess proceeded, “the effect that the story produced on the good man. Notwithstanding his severity respecting you, he is a man of great probity, and one who has all his life tried to administer justice with strict fidelity.
“‘I would give half of my goods,’ said he, in a tone that went to the heart of everyone who heard him—’yes, I would willingly have given everything I possess if this misfortune had not happened. To have condemned innocence is a frightful thought.’
“Then, looking round him at the people, he said, in a solemn voice, ‘God is the only infallible judge, the only one that cannot be deceived. He knows everything. He alone knew the hiding-place in which the ring had remained until now. The judges of the earth are near-sighted and prone to be deceived. It is rare here below that innocence suffers and vice triumphs. The invisible Judge, who will recompense one day all good actions and punish all bad ones, has decreed that even here innocence shall not always suffer from suspicion, nor hidden crime remain always concealed.’”
While Amelia had been relating this interesting narrative, Mary had been lifting up her heart in silent thanksgiving to God for clearing her character from every stain of suspicion and establishing her innocence in the minds of her friends.
By the time Amelia had finished her story, they had arrived at the door of the castle.✿