"She has no doubt confounded the noise made by the thief, in breaking in, with the roar of the elements," he muttered to himself. "And then?" he asked of Gudule in a louder voice.
"And then, Mijnheer, night had fallen and the storm raged furiously; master had not returned. I was terribly frightened. I got down on my knees and said my prayers. Just then Christina came down from her room; she was as white as a ghost, and was trembling all over. Then the thunder burst overhead and deafened me—"
"Ah! then you noticed that she was nervous?"
"Certainly! And so was I; the storm frightened me almost to death. Shortly after this, master knocked at the door, and Christina let him in. Now, Mijnheer, this is all I know, as sure as I am an honest woman."
"Don't cry, my good woman! I tell you that no one suspects you."
"But then, master, whom do they suspect? Merciful Father!" she exclaimed, as the truth flashed upon her. "Then they accuse Christina?"
No one answered her.
"Ah!" continued the old woman, "you do not answer me! Master, is this true?"
"My poor Gudule!"
"And you let them accuse little Christina!" continued the old woman, who would not be silenced. "That angel of kindness and loveliness sent to us from Heaven!"