The punishment for all kinds of crime was most severe at this time, and it is no wonder that Cimburga sobbed convulsively as she was taken from the room.
This unfortunate incident cast a gloom over the company. It was easy to see that the countess was unhappy about the accusation that had been made against the young girl who was under her own protection. The Lady Clotilde was sulky and restless, while the others seemed to be puzzled by what had happened. When the gentlemen, who had been hunting, returned to the castle, they were told of the occurrence of the morning, and most of those who gave an opinion were inclined to agree with the owner of the jewel that Cimburga was guilty, even the count expressing grave doubts as to her innocence. Cimburga was nothing but a servant, therefore was more than likely to be the thief.
"I wish," said Le Glorieux to Philibert, "that we had left Clotilde in France. I have been acquainted with her for a number of years, and I have never known a time when there was not some kind of agitation on her account. She is always just coming, or just going, or is looking for something that she can not find, or is doing something or other to make everybody around her restless. She is like a whirlwind that picks up leaves and sticks and slams them about. I know that she is your relative, but that is not your fault, my lad, and I respect you none the less for it. We should be judged by our friends and not by our relatives, for we select our own friends. It is a great pity that we are not allowed to select our own relatives too, since we are obliged to see so much of them. I know plenty of people who would have an entire new set of relatives if the thing could be managed."
"Le Glorieux," said Philibert, "I do not believe that the maid stole the moonstone any more than that I took it myself."
"I am not so sure that she is innocent," said Antoine. "Why should she have been weeping at such a rate?"
"Why should anybody weep?" asked Philibert. "For a hundred things. It is no sign because people have been crying that they have also been stealing."
"Let us ask Saint Monica if Cimburga is guilty," suggested the countess the following day. "Our Saint Monica is wonderful," continued she, turning to her guests. "She was placed in her present position by one of the Countesses Von Hohenberg, whose prayers for the reformation of an undutiful son were answered, for you know Saint Monica herself knows what it is to weep for a dissipated son, being the mother of the blessed Saint Augustine, who was very wild until miraculously changed to a saint. They say that when persons accused of a crime are made to pass before her their innocence or guilt may be proven at once, for if innocent the saint will make a sign, but if guilty she will remain immovable."
"Has she ever been seen to move when put to the test?" asked the Lady Clotilde.
"Never in our time," said the count, replying to the question. "In my grandfather's time it is said that a youth, accused of stealing a gold image from the chapel, passed before the saint and asked if he was innocent, and she raised her hand and bowed her head. Many others have tried it since, but they were all guilty, for the saint made no sign."
"We will put Cimburga to the test to-night," said the countess. "The moon will be bright by ten o'clock, and at that time we shall not have so many spectators as we should have during the day."