When Philip had concluded his devotions, Father Jerome unlocked a casket, and exhibited the various saintly reliques it contained, which the Prince regarded with due reverence. The old priest next displayed the wonderful ploughshare which had proved harmless to Queen Emma, and related the legend connected with it. While looking about the chapel, Philip noticed upon the credence-table near the altar a little tablet of gold, with an agate on either side, garnished with rubies, and having a large pearl pendant.
“How came this trinket here, father?” he inquired, fixing a stedfast look on the old priest. “It was my gift to a damsel who preserved my life.”
“I know it, Highness,” replied Father Jerome. “But the maiden felt she could not keep the tablet, and hath left it as an offering to Saint Catherine’s shrine. In my humble mind she has done well.”
“Has she confessed to you, father?” demanded Philip.
“I am not bound to answer that question, even to your Highness,” replied Father Jerome. “Nevertheless, I will answer it. She has confessed.”
“Then you know all?”
“All, Highness. And I pity her from my soul.”
“And you blame me?”
“I said not so, Highness,” replied the priest, somewhat evasively.
“Where is she?” asked Philip, after a pause, and in tones of deep emotion.