THE FINDING OF THE RING
ALONG AVENUE OF LIME TREES LED TO the hunting lodge, and as Amelia and Mary walked along this, Amelia told the story of the finding of the ring.
"Last year," said she, "we left the court sooner than usual, on account of business which required my father's presence at Eichbourg, and we arrived there about the beginning of March. The weather was cold and stormy, and one night in particular it blew a perfect hurricane. Do you remember the large old pear tree that was in our garden? It was very old indeed and scarcely bore any fruit. The wind shook it that night to such a degree that it seemed ready to fall every moment. My father ordered it to be cut down, lest it should fall and do mischief.
"All the servants of the castle were called to assist at the time, that its fall might be managed so as not to hurt the trees that were near it. My father and mother, and all of us, went to the garden to see it cut down, for we were all much interested in the fall of such an old friend.
"Scarcely was it done when my two little brothers rushed eagerly to seize a magpie's nest that was in one of the branches near the top, which they had often coveted while it was beyond their reach.
"'What is this?' exclaimed Augustus. 'What can this be, shining so bright among the little sticks of which the nest is made?'
"'It is sparkling like gold and diamonds,' said Alfred.
"Margaret, who was present went forward as soon as she heard this, and no sooner had she seen it than she uttered an involuntary cry, 'It is the ring! It is the ring!' She became deadly pale and trembled all over.
"In the meantime the boys pulled out the ring from the nest and carried it to my mother with shouts of triumph.
"'It is indeed the ring which I lost,' said my mother. 'O good honest James! O poor Mary! What grievous wrong we have done you! How we have misjudged you! I am certainly very glad to find my ring, but I am now much more anxious to find the good gardener and his daughter. I would give ten times the value of the ring to have it in my power to atone in any measure for the wrong we have done them.'
"'But how,' cried I, 'could this ring have got to the very top of this old tree?'
"'That is easily understood,' said old Anthony the forester, whose face was perfectly beaming with delight at hearing your innocence acknowledged. You know, Mary, he never would believe anything against you. 'It is easy to see,' continued he, 'that neither James nor Mary could have hid it up there; the tree was too high and the branches too weak for anyone to get at that nest till the tree was down. The young gentlemen have tried it often enough to be quite sure of that.
"'It is one of these thievish birds, the magpies, who has stolen the ring. They have an odd fancy for everything shining, and they have been known to carry money to their nests, or anything bright or sparkling that came in their way. There is nothing at all wonderful in their having stolen the ring; the only wonder is that an old woodsman like me should not have thought of this before. Surely it was an extraordinary piece of blindness never once to have thought of it, when this tree was so near the window too. It shows that it has been the will of God to send this trial to my good old friend James and his innocent daughter, or we could never all have been so stupid.'
"'You are right, Anthony,' said my mother; 'it seems all clear enough now. I remember perfectly that these magpies had a custom of visiting my window, and even of coming into the room. It was a very warm day when I lost the ring. The window was open, and the ring was on the table, near the open window where I had been sitting. There is no doubt now of the truth, that one of these birds, attracted by the sparkling of the diamonds, had carried off the ring while I was in the next room.'
"My father listened in surprise. 'How is it,' said he, 'that we did not think of this sooner? I am grieved to the very heart for all that we have made these good innocent people suffer. My only consolation in the matter is, that at least I intended to act justly and uprightly, my conscience is clear from any evil intention towards them. But that will not justify our too hasty judgment. I shall have no peace till we find them again and restore them to their country and their home, and do all in our power to atone in every way for their unmerited sufferings.'
"Turning round at this moment, my father perceived Margaret, who stood listening to this conversation, almost stupefied with terror. She looked as if she were frozen to the spot. Her guilt was written on her face. 'Wicked and deceitful woman,' said my father to her, 'how could you perjure yourself as you must have done at the trial, and so not only sin most grievously yourself but become the means of leading us all into sin likewise? For, but for your false evidence, Mary would never have been condemned. You shall not escape unpunished. Seize her,' said he to some of the servants, 'and take her at once to the police officer; she must be given into custody for perjury.'
"Margaret was no favorite in the household, and there were none to pity her. 'It is quite right,' said one of the servants, 'that the person who lays snares for others should be taken in her own net.'
"'This is the end of her cheating and lying,' said another. 'She has deceived my lady long enough; it is a good thing she is found out at last. It is a true saying there is no thread so fine that it cannot be seen in the sunshine.'
"The cook said, 'This has all come of her jealousy about Mary's pretty dress. It just shows how far one bad feeling indulged may lead a person. Her jealousy led her to lying, and fear for her lies being found out led her to perjure herself. It is a true word, that if we give the devil but a single hair to hold by, he will drag us down by it to destruction.'
"'Well,' said the coachman, still holding the ax with which he had been helping to cut the pear tree, 'we must hope that she will repent, or it will be the worse for her in the next world; for,' continued he, shaking the ax, 'it is written that "every tree that brings not forth good fruit shall be hewn down and cast into the fire."'
"I may as well tell you at once," continued Amelia, "what became of Margaret. She was condemned to lose all the money she had amassed in our service, most of which had been gained dishonestly. All she had was taken from her; she was banished and actually escorted across the frontier by the very police officer who formerly accompanied you.
"The news of the discovery of the ring spread rapidly in the village, and many came to inquire into the particulars of it, and to see the tree. The judge who condemned you, dear Mary, heard of it from the officer who took Margaret to prison, and he hastened immediately to the castle. You could scarcely believe how deeply he felt it. He was in very great distress about you, for though a stern and rigid man, he is strictly just. 'I would give the half of my fortune,' said he, '-nay! I would give all that I possess-that these innocent people had not been condemned. It is very dreadful to have been the instrument of condemning the innocent unjustly.'
"Then turning to the crowd who had collected near the fallen tree, he said solemnly, 'God is the only judge who can never be deceived, because He alone sees the heart. All human judges are fallible, and may err, and therefore it is not uncommon for innocent people to suffer unjustly in this world. In some cases this may never be discovered till the great day when the secrets of all hearts shall be revealed. But in this instance God has been graciously pleased to clear the innocent and punish the guilty, even in this world. Remark and admire, my friends, by what a singular train of little unforeseen circumstances it has pleased God to bring about this discovery, and if one of these little events in the chain had been wanting, the discovery might not have been made.
"'First, the Count was brought here by business during the stormy season, contrary to his usual custom, or he might not have been here at the fall of the tree; then the storm was sent to shake the old tree to its roots; the torrents of rain were necessary, too, to clean the nest and make the ring visible; the presence of the children was necessary to seize the nest directly and prevent anyone else from finding the ring who might have hid it; then Margaret, the false accuser, was brought to the spot at the moment, and by her own involuntary cry was made the first to acknowledge the identity of the ring and consequently the innocence of her victims.
"'Much of the wrong and injustice that fill the earth will never be known or punished till the great day of judgment; but from time to time God permits such instances as we have seen today, for a warning to the wicked, that they cannot deceive their all seeing Judge, and for an encouragement to His people, who, amid the multiplied injustice that prevails all around them, might become fainthearted and be tempted to lose their trust in His eternal truth and justice.' Thus spoke the judge in an authoritative tone, and the crowd listened with approval to his words and then quietly dispersed.
"And this is all the story, dear Mary, about the finding of the ring." Just as Amelia had finished her story they reached the door of the hunting lodge.