The old woman carried the case to the bed, while Eileen eagerly followed her; together they opened it and gazed upon its contents. The box was very old, and the velvet partitions were all broken down, so that the jewels lay heaped together, emitting faint rays of light. Eileen put out a half-reluctant hand, lifted them one by one, and laid them on the bed.
Two gold chains she laid out, then a necklace of brilliants, set in solid silver, chased and tarnished; large, heavy bracelets encrusted with various colored stones; two worked brooches of the old Celtic fashion, both of gold; a waist-chain, and a gem for the forehead.
Then the nurse picked up something that lay at the bottom of the box. "See here, rose of my heart," she cried, holding it up. "This is a man's ring, sure enough."
Eileen seized upon it; but as she looked, blank disappointment spread over her face. It was a huge old ring of silver, of a great weight, with a narrow band, and a tower raised upon it, on the top of which was a rough but ingenious carving of a city, cut out of a bloodstone.
Eileen looked despairingly upon it.
"Oh, nurse," she said, "you know very well Estercel would never wear so stupid a ring! And then think of the poor little birds!"—she smiled up in her nurse's face; "a thing so large and heavy, it would be worse than a cuckoo in the nest."
"Give it here to me, child," said the nurse, taking it and weighing it in her hand. "No, this would never do; and now it is in my mind that one Sunday morning my blessed lady your mamma showed me this ring in this very room, and told me it was the ring of the Lord Bishop Decies, who was her own grand-uncle. And more by token, Mistress Eileen, look, here is the likeness of the city of Jerusalem on the top. That would be the terrible blasphemy for us to be putting the Holy City for a nest of little birds to sit upon."
But Eileen seemed to care nothing for Jerusalem, nor for the Lord Bishop's ring with that city on the top; without heeding her nurse, she still continued her search in the bottom of the box, nor did she pay more heed to the jewels laid out upon the bed. It was a wonder to see a young girl caring nothing for the bright stones and the gold; but jewels belong to the joy of love, and sorrow of the heart will scarcely reach out a hand for them.
At length Eileen raised her head. "See this one, nurse!" she cried. "Would not this one do?" and she held out a ring of gold, wide and thin.
The nurse took it from her and carried it to the window; they stood together and examined it under the light; it was worn and slender, a hoop of seven wires of twisted gold.
"Ah, Mistress Eileen," said the nurse, "this is the very ring for the charm; for look now, it has been carried for long years on some man's finger, and by the feel of it upon my hand I can tell that it was worn in love. Take it now in your hand and see; there is trouble in the ring and much love; it is hardly cold yet after God knows how many years."
She placed the ring in the palm of Eileen's hand, and tightly folding her fingers over it, bade her close her eyes.
The young girl turned pale as she stood, her face still raised to the light of the window; the ring seemed to burn in her hand. For a moment she waited, then opened her eyes. "Oh, it is true, Nurse Phaire!" she said. "It is alive. I can believe it."
"Hold it, Mistress Eileen," said the nurse. "It must not be left cold again. It must be warmed now with another love, that it may bring happiness to you. Look, I will put it in your bosom to keep until you find a nest," and she tucked the ring safely within the folds of the girl's dress, over against her heart.
"I will go now, nurse, to the woods. I will go this very moment," said Eileen, eagerly. "The afternoon is early yet, and the bushes are full of nests. Oh, I am so glad I told you! My heart is lighter already."
"Take the greyhound with you, child, if you will go; he is watchful and obedient. Ah me! that these old bones can no longer go wandering through the blessed green bushes; but the Holy Powers be thanked, I have still the sight of my eyes, and can look down from the window and see you go. Now I will call Mary to bring your hood; she shall go with you too, and Dermot shall follow
