The Basket of Flowers

by Christoph von Schmid

The next day the labourers at the farm were busy taking in the hay from a large meadow just beyond the forest. The farmer's wife had a large piece of fine linen spread out on the grass a few steps from the house, and in the evening this was found to have disappeared. Unfortunately the young farmer's wife had heard the story of Mary and the ring from her husband, to whom it had been told by his father and mother. Instantly then she connected Mary with the disappearance of the linen, and saw in the circumstance a means of venting her spite upon the girl whom she had always disliked.

When Mary was returning from her work in the evening with a rake on her shoulder and a pitcher in her hand, along with the other servants, this passionate woman came out of the kitchen and met her with a torrent of abuse, and ordered her to give up the linen immediately. At first Mary was too stunned to reply, but when she understood the charge, she answered meekly that it was impossible she could have taken the linen, as she had passed the whole day in the hay-field with the other servants; that a stranger might easily have taken advantage of a moment when there was no one in the kitchen to commit the theft. This conjecture turned out to be the true one, but the farmer's wife was not to be turned from her conviction.

"Thief," she cried coarsely, "do you think I am ignorant of the theft of the ring, and what difficulty you had to escape the executioner's sword? Begone as soon as possible. There is no room in my house for creatures like you."

"It is too late," said her husband, "to send Mary away now. Let her sup with us, as she has worked all day in the great heat. Let her but remain this one night."

"Not even one hour," cried his wife passionately; and her husband, seeing that advice would only irritate her more, remained silent.

Mary made no further attempt to defend herself against the unjust accusation. She immediately made her simple preparations for her departure, wrapping up all that she had in a clean napkin. When she had put the little bundle under her arm, thanked the servants of Pine Farm for their kindness to her and protested once more her innocence, she asked permission to take leave of her friends, the old farmer and his wife.

"You may do that," said the young farmer's wife, with a scornful smile; "indeed, if you wish to take with you these two old people, it will give me great pleasure. It is evident death does not mean to rid me of them for some time."

The good old people, who had heard the altercation, wept when Mary came to bid them good-bye. However, they consoled her as well as they could, and gave her a little money to assist her on her journey. "Go, good girl," said they to her, "and may God take care of you."

It was towards the close of the day when Mary set out with her little bundle under her arm, and began to climb up the mountain, following the narrow road to the woods. She wished before leaving the neighbourhood to visit her father's grave once more. When she came out of the forest the village clock struck seven, and before she arrived at the graveyard it was nearly dark; but she was not afraid, and went up to her father's grave, where she sat down and gave way to a burst of grief. The full moon was shining through the trees, illumining with a silver light the roses on the grave and the basket of flowers. The soft evening breeze murmured among the branches, making the rose trees planted on her father's grave tremble.

"Oh, my father," cried Mary, "would that you were still here, that I might pour my trouble into your ears! But yet I know that it is better that you are gone, and I thank the Lord that you did not live to witness this last affliction. You are now happy, and beyond the reach of grief. Oh, that I were with you! Alas, never have I been so much to be pitied as now. When the moon shone into the prison which confined me you were then alive; when I was driven from the home which I loved so much you were left me. I had in you a good father and protector and faithful friend. Now I have no one. Poor, forsaken, suspected of crime, I am alone in the world, a stranger, not knowing where to lay my head. The only little corner that remained to me on the earth I am driven from, and now I shall no longer have the consolation of coming here to weep by your grave!" At these words the tears rushed forth afresh.