as, even upon this bed of straw, and loaded
with chains, you are still more happy than she is, living in the
Countess's palace and dressed in fine clothes, and with everything that
her heart can desire. It is better to die innocent than to live
dishonoured. Pardon her, my child, as thy Saviour pardoned His enemies
on the cross. Do you pardon her?" the old man asked anxiously.

Mary assured her father that she did. And now the officer was heard
coming to separate them.

"Well," said her father, "I commend you to God and His grace. If I
should not see you again, if this is the last time that I am permitted
to talk with you, my daughter, at least be sure that I will not be long
in following you to heaven. You may depend upon it that I shall not
long survive this parting."

The time was now up, and, warned by the officer, the old man prepared
to take his departure. Mary clung to him with all her strength, but her
father was obliged to disengage himself as gently as he could, and Mary
fell insensible upon her bed.

As soon as James was brought before the judge, he raised his hands to
heaven, and cried out, almost beside himself--

"My daughter is innocent!"

The judge was deeply moved.

"I am disposed," he said, "for my own part to believe it.
Unfortunately, I must judge the case from the nature of the testimony,
with impartiality and even to the utmost rigour of the law."

CHAPTER VII.

SENTENCED.

In the village of Eichbourg the case of Mary and the missing ring were
the only subjects of conversation, and many were the speculations as to
what the result of the case would be. At the period when Mary lived,
the crime of theft was always visited with severe punishment, and in
many cases the sentence of death was carried out when the theft was of
a much less valuable article than the Countess's ring.

The Count himself wished for nothing so much as to find Mary innocent.
In his anxiety to give her the advantage of any doubt there might be,
he himself read all the testimony and conversed with the judge for
hours at a time, but, after all had been done, he was unable to
persuade himself of Mary's innocence. Amelia and her mother were, as
may be imagined, in deep distress, and begged with tears that Mary's
life might be spared. As for the old man, Mary's father, he spent his
days and nights in unceasing prayer that God would be pleased to prove
to the world the innocence of his daughter.

All this time the