CHAPTER XV.
THE YOUNG COUNTESS'S STORY.
Having made Mary sit down beside her, the young Countess began herstory.
"God is surely with you, dear Mary," said she, "and has taken you underHis protection. I see now that He has guided my steps here in orderthat I might find you for whom we have sought so long. Simple as arethe events which I am about to relate to you, we can see in them achain of truly providential circumstances.
"From the time that your innocence was discovered I had no more rest.You and your father were always pressing on my mind, wandering withouthome and friends. Believe me, my dear Mary, I have shed many bittertears on your account. My parents were also deeply distressed at theinjustice they had unwittingly done you, and sought for you everywhere;but, as you know, without being able to obtain any trace of you.
"Two days ago we came to a hunting-lodge of the Prince in the forest,not far from this village. For twenty years at least this castle hasnot been visited, the only occupant being a gamekeeper. My father hadgone on business, and had spent the whole day in the forest in companywith two noblemen whose wives were staying at the castle. It had been avery warm day, and the evening was very fresh. The setting sun, themountain covered with pines interspersed with picturesque rocks offeredsuch a beautiful spectacle that I begged permission to take a walk.Accompanied by the gamekeeper's daughter I set out, and as we passedalong we found the graveyard gate open, and the tombstones gilded bythe light of the setting sun.
"Since my childhood I have always had a pleasure in readinginscriptions and epitaphs on tombstones. I am moved when one tells of ayoung man or woman carried off in the bloom of youth, and I feel a sortof melancholy pleasure if it concerns a person who had reached advancedage. The verses themselves, poor as they may be from a poetical pointof view, stir serious feelings within me, and I never fail to carryaway with me from a graveyard good thoughts and pious resolutions.
"Entering the graveyard with the gamekeeper's daughter, I began asusual to read the inscriptions. After a little while the girl said tome, 'Come, I will show you something very beautiful. It is the grave ofan old man, who has neither tombstone nor epitaph, but it has beenornamented with taste and beauty by the tender piety of his daughter.See, you can just distinguish it through the thick leaves of thesepines--the beautiful rose tree and the basket of flowers.'
"You can imagine, dear Mary, the shock I received, when at the firstglance I recognised the basket of flowers which had never been out ofmy mind since that sad day when you left Eichbourg. If there had beenany doubts in my mind as to it being the same basket, the initials ofmy name and the coat-of-arms of my family would have dispelled them.Turning to my companion, I asked if she knew anything of you and yourfather. She told me all about your life at Pine Farm, your father'ssickness and death, and your great grief. After hearing all that thegamekeeper's daughter could tell me, I went to the minister, only tohear the same story with very much praise of yourself added. I wouldhave gone off to Pine Farm immediately, but while the story was beingtold me, time had passed rapidly, and it was now already quite dark.'What shall I do,' said I; 'it is now too late to go to the farm, butto-morrow at daybreak we will set out.' Your good friend the ministersent for the schoolmaster to charge him to go and bring you withoutdelay to the castle.
"'My dear young friend,' said the schoolmaster, 'you need not go far tolook for her. She has gone to her father's grave to weep there. Alas,poor child!' he continued, 'I saw her sitting there from an opening inthe steeple when I went this afternoon to wind up the clock.'
"I at once determined to find you, and the minister wanted to accompanyme, but I begged to be allowed to come to you alone, that my firstmeeting with you might be as affectionate as I desired. While I camehere the old minister went to tell my parents where I was, and toprepare them for your arrival. This accounts, my dear Mary, for mysudden appearance before you. You can now see, through God'sprovidence, this basket of flowers which separated us has reunited usby your father's grave--that father who is now inhabiting the homeabove."
"Yes," said Mary, clasping her hands and raising her grateful eyes toheaven, "God has done it all. He has had pity on my tears and on myneeds. How can I thank Him for His goodness and His boundlesstenderness?"
"I have still one thing to tell you yet," answered the Countess Amelia,interrupting her, "and it is one which seems to me singularly touching,and inspires me with an awe for the justice of God who directs our loteven when we are unconscious of it. My maid, Juliette, had but onethought, one desire. It was to banish you from my heart and to takeyour place in my affections. It was with that design that she made upher terrible falsehood, and her wicked plan succeeded too well. Butthat very falsehood was the means of her afterwards losing her placeand our confidence, and that made you dearer than ever to our hearts.Juliette endeavoured to estrange you from me for ever, and yourbanishment was a constant subject of triumph to her.
"You know how that, in her wickedness, she threw this basket at yourfeet with an insulting laugh. Well, it was exactly this event which wasafterwards, although she little thought it then, to reunite us forever. For was it not indeed through this basket on your father's gravethat I discovered you to-day? Truly, those who have the love of Godhave nothing to fear from any enemies. God knows how to turn to ouradvantage all the ill that wicked people do to us; and our most cruelenemies, although for a while they may bring us to unhappiness, can donothing but contribute to our real and lasting happiness. We may say inthis case that our safety comes from our enemies.
"But now, dear Mary," said the Countess, "tell me what brought you solate to your father's grave, and why, when I found you, you wereweeping so bitterly."
When Mary had told her story, of how they had driven her from the PineFarm on a false charge, the Countess was astonished still more at theprovidence which had brought her and Mary together.
"Yes, indeed," said the Countess to Mary, "it is by God's will that Ihave found you to-day, just when you were again plunged into thedeepest distress. You were imploring His assistance with burning tearsrunning down your cheeks. This is another proof of what we have beenspeaking, that God knows how to turn to our advantage the ill which ourenemies design to do us. The farmer's wicked wife, who drove you fromher house, thought she would make you unhappy. Without knowing it shehas brought you to my arms and those of my parents, who, as well asmyself, are desirous of making your life happy.
"But it is now time to set out," said Amelia. "My parents will beanxious at my long absence. Come, dear Mary, I will never leave you anymore. Let us go to my parents."