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 Library 
 
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 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924026193882 
 
UNDINE 
 
 OTHER TALES 
 
 By DE la MOTTE FOUQUE 
 
 Translated from the German by F. E. Bunnett 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 UNITED STATES BOOK COMPANY 
 150 Worth Street, corner Mission Place 
 
DEDIOATIOK 
 
 Undine, thou image fair and blest, 
 Since first thy strange mysterious glance, 
 Shone on me from some old romance. 
 
 How hast thou sung my heart to rest ! 
 
 How hast thou clung to me and smiled. 
 And wouldest, whispenng in my ear. 
 Give vent to all thy miseries drear, 
 
 A little, half-spoiled, timorous child ! 
 
 Yet hath my zither caught the sound, 
 And breathed from out its gates of gold. 
 Each gentle word tliy lips have told. 
 
 Until their fame is spread around. 
 
 And many a heart has loved thee well. 
 In spite of every wayward deed, 
 And many a one will gladly read, 
 
 The pages which thy history tell. 
 
 I catch the whispered hope expressed, 
 That thou should'st once again appear ; 
 So cast aside each doubt and fear. 
 
 And come. Undine ! thou spirit blest ! 
 
 Greet every noble in the hall. 
 And greet 'fore all, with trusting air. 
 The beauteous women gathered there ; 
 
 I know that thou art loved by all. 
 
 And if one ask thee after me. 
 
 Say : he's a true and noble knight. 
 Fair woman's slave in song and fight 
 
 And in all deeds of chivalry. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Pasb 
 Undinb 1 
 
 The Two Captains 97 
 
 Aslauga's Knight ..149 
 
 SlNTRAM AND HiS COMPANIONS 19] 
 
UISrDIN"B. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 HOW THE KNIGHT CAME TO THE FISHERMAN. 
 
 There was once, it may be now many hundred years 
 ago, a good old fisherman, who was sitting one fine even- 
 ing before the door, mending his nets. The part of the 
 country in which he lived was extremely pretty. The 
 green-sward, on which his cottage stood, ran far into the 
 lake, and it seemed as if it was from love for the blue clear 
 watei's that the tongue of land had stretched itself out into 
 them, while with an equally fond embrace the lake had 
 encircled the green pasture, rich with waving grass and 
 flowers, and the refreshing shade of trees. The one wel- 
 comed the other, and it was just this that made each so 
 beautiful. There were indeed few human beings, or rather 
 none at all, to be met with on this pleasant spot, except the 
 fisherman and Lis family. For at the back of this little 
 promontory there lay a very wild forest, which, both from 
 its gloom and pathless solitude as well as from the wonder- 
 ful creatures and illusions with which it was said to abound, 
 was avoided by most people except in cases of necessity. 
 
 The pious old fisherman, however, passed through it 
 many a time undisturbed, when he was taking the choice 
 fish, which he caught at his beautiful home, to a large 
 town situated not far from the confines of the forest. The 
 principal reason why it was so easy for him to pass through 
 this forest was because the tone of his thoughts was almost 
 
 7 
 
8 TJNBmB. 
 
 entirely of a religious character, and besides tliis, whenever 
 he set foot upon the evil reputed shades, he was wont 
 to sing some holy song, with a clear voice and a sincere heart. 
 While sitting over his nets this evening, unsuspicious of 
 any evil, a sudden fear came ujjon him, at the sound of a 
 rustling in the gloom of the forest, as of a horse and rider, 
 the noise approaching nearer and nearer to the little prom- 
 ontory. All that he had dreamed, in many a stormy 
 night, of the mysteries of the forest, now flashed at once 
 through his mind ; foremost of all, the image of a gigantic 
 snow-white man, who kept unceasingly nodding his head 
 in a portentous manner. Indeed, when he raised his eyes 
 toward the wood it seemed to liim as if he actually saw the 
 nodding man approaching through the dense foliage. He 
 soon, however, reassured liimself, reflecting that nothing se- 
 rious had ever befallen him even in tlie forest itself, and that 
 upon this open tongue of land the evil spirit would be still 
 less daring in the exercise of his power. At the same time 
 he repeated aloud a text from the Bible with all liis heart, 
 and this so inspired him with courage tliat he almost smiled 
 at the illusion he had allowed to possess him. The white 
 nodding man was suddenly transformed into a brook long 
 familiar to him, which ran foaming from the forest and 
 discharged itself into the lake. The noise, however, which 
 lie had heard, was caused by a knight, beautifully appar- 
 elled, who, emerging from the deep shadows of the wood, 
 came riding toward the cottage. A scarlet mantle was 
 thrown over his purple gold-embroidered doublet ; a red 
 and violet plume waved from his golden-colored head-gear ; 
 and a beautiful and richly ornamented sword flashed from 
 his shoulder-belt. The white steed that bore the knight 
 was more slenderly formed than war-horses generally are, 
 and he stepped so lightly over the turf that this green and 
 flowery carpet seemed scarcely to receive the slightest in- 
 juiy from his tread. 
 
UNBINE. 9 
 
 The old fisherman did not, however, feel perfectly secure 
 in his mind, although he tried to convince himself that no 
 evil was to be feared from so graceful an apparition ; and 
 therefore he politely took off his hat as the knight ap- 
 proached, and remained quietly with his nets. 
 
 Presently the stranger drew up, and inquired whether he 
 and his horse could have shelter and care for the night. 
 " As regards your horse, good sir," replied the fisherman, 
 " I can assign him no better stable than this shady pasture, 
 and no better provender than the grass growing on it. Your- 
 self, however, I will gladly welcome to my small cottage, 
 and give you supper and lodging as good as we have." 
 The knight was well satisfied with this ; he alighted from 
 his horse, and, with the assistance of the fisherman, he 
 relieved it from saddle and bridle, and turned it loose upon 
 the flowery green. Then addi'essing his host, he said : 
 "Even had I found you less hospitable and kindly disposed, 
 my worthy old fisherman, you would nevertheless scarcely 
 have got rid of me to-day, for, as I see, a broad lake lies 
 before us, and to ride back into that mysterious wood, with 
 the shades of evening coming on, heaven keep me from it ! " 
 
 " We will not talk too much of tliat," said the fisherman, 
 and he led his guest into the cottage. 
 
 There, beside the hearth, from which a scanty fire shod 
 a dim light through the cleanly kept room, sat the fisher- 
 man's aged wife in a capacious chair. At the entrance of 
 the noble guest she rose to give him a kindly welcome, but 
 resumed her seat of honor without offering it to the stranger. 
 Upon this the fisherman said with a smile : " You must not 
 take it amiss of her, young sir, that she has not given up to 
 you the most comfortable seat in the house ; it is a custom 
 among poor people, that it should belong exclusively to tlie 
 aged." 
 
 '' Why, husband," said tlie wife, with a quiet smile, 
 "what can you be thinking of? Our guest belongs no 
 
10 UNDINE. 
 
 doubt to Christian men, and bow could it cOme into the 
 bead of the good j'oung blood to drive old people from 
 their chairs ? Take a seat, my young master," she continued, 
 turning toward the knight ; " over there, there is a right 
 pretty little chair, only you must not move about on it too 
 roughly, for one of its legs is no longer of the firmest." 
 The knight fetched the chair carefully, sat down upon it 
 good-bumoredly, and it seemed to him as if be were related 
 to this little household, and bad just returned from abroad. 
 The three worthy people now began to talk together in 
 the most friendly and familiar manner. With regard to 
 the forest, about which the knight made some inquiries, 
 the old man was not inclined to be communicative ; be felt 
 it was not a subject suited to approaching night, but the 
 aged couple spoke freely of their home and former life, and 
 listened also gladly when the knight recounted to them his 
 travels, and told them that be had a castle near the source 
 of the Danube', and that his name was Sir Hnldbrand of 
 Ringstetten. During the conversation, the stranger bad 
 already occasionally heard a splash against the little low 
 window, as if some one were sprinkling water against it. 
 Every time the noise occurred, the old man knit his brow 
 with displeasure ; but when at last a whole shower was 
 dashed against the panes, and bubbled into the room 
 through the decayed easement, he rose angrily, and called 
 threateningly from the window: "Undine! will you for 
 once leave off these childish tricks ? and to-day, besides, 
 there is a stranger knight with us in the cottage." All was 
 silent without, only a suppressed laugh was audible, and 
 the fisherman said as he returned : " You must pardon it 
 in hei", my honored guest, and perhaps many a naughty trick 
 besides ; but she means no harm by it. It is our foster- 
 child. Undine, and she will not wean herself from this child- 
 ishness, although she has already entered her eighteenth 
 year. But, as I said, at heart she is thoroughly good." 
 
UNDINE. 11 
 
 " You may well talk," replied the old woman, shaking 
 her head ; " when you come home from fishing or from a 
 journey, her frolics may then be very delightful, but to 
 have her about one the whole day long, and never to hear 
 a sensible word, and instead of finding her a help in the 
 housekeeping as she grows older, always to be obliged to be 
 taking care that her follies do not completely ruin us, that 
 is quite another thing, and the patience of a saint would be 
 worn out at last." 
 
 " Well, well," said her husband, with a smile, " you have 
 your troubles with Undine, and I have mine with the lake. 
 It often breaks away my dams, and tears my nets to pieces, 
 but for all that, I have an affection for it, and so have you 
 for the pretty child, in spite of all your crosses and vexa- 
 tions. Isn't it so ? " 
 
 " One can't be very angry with her, certainly," said the 
 old woman, and she smiled approvingly. 
 
 Just then the door flew open, and a beautiful, fair girl 
 glided laughing into the room, and said : " You have only 
 been jesting, father, for where is your guest ? " 
 
 At the same moment, however, she perceived the knight, 
 and stood fixed with astonishment before the handsome 
 youth. Huldbrand was struck with her charming appear- 
 ance, and dwelt the more earnestly on her lovely features, 
 as he imagined it was only her surprise that gave him this 
 brief enjoyment, and that she would presently turn from 
 his gaze with increased bashfulness. It was, however, quite 
 otherwise ; for after having looked at him for some time, 
 she drew near him confidingly, knelt down before him, and 
 said, as she played with a gold medal which he wore on his 
 breast, suspended from a rich chain : " Why you handsome, 
 kind guest, how have you come to our poor cottage at last? 
 Have you been obliged then to wander through the world 
 for years, before you could find your way to us ? Do you 
 come out of that wild forest, my beautiful knight ? " The 
 
12 UNDINE. 
 
 old woman's 'reproof allowed him no time for reply. She 
 admonished the girl to stand up and behave herself and to 
 go to her work. Undine, however, without making any 
 answer, drew a little foot-stool close to Huldbrand's chair, 
 sat down upon it with her spinning, and said pleasantly : 
 " I will work here." The old man did as parents are wont 
 to do with spoiled children. He affected to observe noth- 
 ing of Undine's naughtiness and was beginning to talk of 
 something else. But this the girl would not let him do ; 
 she said : "I have asked our charming guest whence he 
 comes, and he has not yet answered me." 
 
 "I come from the forest, you beautiful little vision," 
 returned Huldbrand ; and she went on to say : 
 
 " Then you must tell me how you came there, for it is 
 usually so feared, and what marvelous adventures you met 
 witli in it, for it is impossible to escape without something 
 of the sort." 
 
 Huldbrand felt a slight shudder at this remembrance, 
 and looked involuntarily toward the window, for it seemed 
 to him as if one of the strange figures he had encountered 
 in the forest were grinning in there ; but he saw nothing 
 but the deep dark night, which had now shrouded every- 
 thing without. Upon this he composed himself and was on 
 the point of beginning his little history, when the old man 
 interrupted him by saying : " Not so, sir knight ! this is no 
 fit hour for such things." Undine, however, sprang angrily 
 from her little stool, and standing straight before the fisher- 
 man with her fair arms fixed in her sides, she exclaimed : 
 " He shall not tell his story, father ? He shall not ? But it 
 is my will. He shall ! He shall in spite of you ! " And 
 thus saying, she stamped her pretty little foot vehemently 
 on the floor, but she did it all with such a comically grace- 
 ful air that Huldbrand now felt his gaze almost more riveted 
 upon her in her anger than before in her gentleness. 
 
 The restrained wrath of the old man, on the contrary. 
 
UNDINE. 13 
 
 burst forth violently. He severely reproved Undine's diso- 
 bedience and unbecoming behavior to the stranger, and his 
 good old wife joined with him heartily. Undine quickly 
 retorted : " If you want to chide me, and won't do what I 
 wish, then sleep alone in your old smoky hut ! " and swift 
 as an arrow she flew from the room, and fled into the dark 
 night. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 IN WHAT WAT UNDINE HAD COMB TO THE FISHEEMAN. 
 
 HaLDBEAND and the fisherman sprang from their seats 
 and were on the point of following the angry girl. Before 
 they reached the cottage door, however, Undine had long 
 vanished in the shadowy darkness without, and not even 
 the sound of her light footstep betrayed the direction of 
 her flight. Huldbrand looked inquiringly at his host ; it 
 almost seemed to him as if the whole sweet apparition, 
 which had suddenly merged again into the night, were 
 nothing else than one of that band of the wonderful forms 
 which had, but a short time since, carried on their pranks 
 with him in the forest. But the old man murmured be- 
 tween his teeth : " This is not the first time that she has 
 treated us in this way. Now we have aching hearts and 
 sleepless eyes the whole night through ; for who knows, 
 that she may not some day come to harm, if she is thus out 
 alone in the dark until daylight." 
 
 " Then let us, for God's sake, follow her," cried Huld- 
 brand, anxiously. 
 
 " What would be the good of it ? " replied the old man. 
 "It would be a sin were I to allow you, all alone, to fol- 
 low the foolish girl in the solitary night, and my old limbs 
 would not overtake the wild runaway, even if we knew in 
 what direction she had gone." 
 
 " We had better at any rate call after her, and beg her 
 
14 UNDINE. 
 
 to come back," said Huldbrand ; and he began to call in 
 the most earnest manner : " Undine ! Undine ! Pray 
 come back ! " The old man shook his head, saying, that all 
 that shouting would help but little, for the knight had no 
 idea how self-willed the little truant was. But still he 
 could not forbear often calling out with him in the dark 
 night : " Undine ! Ah ! dear Undine, I beg you to come 
 back — only this once ! " 
 
 It turned out, however, as the fisherman had said. No 
 Undine was to be heard or seen, and as the old man would 
 on no account consent that Huldbrand should go in search 
 of the fugitive, they were at last both obliged to return to 
 the cottage. Here they found the fire on the hearth almost 
 gone out, and the old wife, who took Undine's flight and 
 danger far less to heart than her husband, had already 
 retired to rest. Tlie old man blew up the fire, laid some 
 dry wood on it, and by the light of the flame sought out a 
 tankard of wine, which he placed between himself and his 
 guest. " You, sir knight," said he, " are also anxious about 
 that silly girl, and we would, both rather chatter and drink 
 away a part of the night than keep turning round on our 
 rush mats trying in vain to sleep. Is it not so ? " Huld- 
 brand was well satisfied with the plan ; the fisherman 
 ■obliged him to take the seat of honor vacated by the good 
 old housewife, and both drank and talked together in a 
 manner becoming two honest and trusting men. It is true, 
 as often as the slightest thing moved before the windows, 
 or even at times when nothing was moving, one of the two 
 would look up and say : " She is coming ! " Then they 
 -would be silent for a moment or two, and as nothing ap- 
 peared, they would shake their heads and sigh and go on 
 with their talk. 
 
 As, however, neither could think of anything but of Un- 
 dine, they knew of nothing better to do than that the old 
 fisherman should tell the story, and the knight should hear, 
 
UNBINH. 15 
 
 in what manner Undine had first come to the cottage. He 
 therefore began as follows : 
 
 " It is now about fifteen years ago that I was one day 
 crossing the wild forest with my goods, on my way to the 
 city. My wife had stayed at home, as her wont is, and at 
 this particular time for a very good reason, for God had 
 given us, in our tolerably advanced age, a wonderfully 
 beautiful child. It was a little girl ; and a question already 
 aiose between us, whether for the sake of the new-comer, 
 we would not leave our lovely home that we might better 
 bring np this dear gift of heaven in some more habitable 
 place. Poor people indeed cannot do in such cases as you 
 may think they ought, sir knight, but, with God's blessing, 
 every one must do what he can. Well, the matter was 
 tolerably in my head as I went along. This slip of land 
 was so dear to me, and I shuddered when, amid the noise 
 and brawls of the city, I thought to myself, ' In such scenes 
 as these, or in one not much more quiet, thou wilt also soon 
 make thy abode ! ' But at the same time I did not mur- 
 mur against the good Ood ; on the contrary, I thanked him 
 in secret for the new-born babe ; I should be telling a lie, 
 too, were I to say, that on my journey through the wood, 
 going or returning, anything befell me out of the common 
 way, and at that time I had never seen any of its fearful 
 wonders. The Lord was ever with me in those mysterious 
 shades." 
 
 As he spoke, he took his little cap from his bald head, and 
 remained for a time occupied with prayerful thoughts ; he 
 then covered himself again, and continued : 
 
 " On this side the forest, alas ! a sorrow awaited me. 
 My wife came to meet me with tearful eyes and clad in 
 mourning. ' Oh ! Good God ! ' I groaned, ' where is our 
 dear child ? Speak! ' ' With him on whom you have called, 
 dear husband,' she replied ; and we now entered the cottage 
 together, weeping silently. I looked around for the little 
 
16 UNDINE. 
 
 corpse, and it was then only that I learned how it had all 
 happened. 
 
 " My wife had been sitting with the child on the edge of 
 the lake, and as she was playing with it, free of all fear and 
 full of happiness, the little one suddenly bent forward, as if 
 attracted by something very beautiful in the water. My 
 wife saw her laugli, the dear angel, and stretch out her 
 little hands ; but in a moment she had sprung out of her 
 mother's arms, and liad sunk beneath the watery mirror. I 
 sought long for our little lost one ; but it was all in vain ; 
 there was no trace of her to be found. 
 
 " The same evening we, childless parents, were sitting 
 silently together in the cottage; neither of us had any 
 desire to talk, even had our tears allowed us. We sat 
 gazing into the fire on the hearth. Presently, we heard 
 something rustling outside the door ; it flew open, and a 
 beautiful little girl three or four years old, richly dressed, 
 stood on the threshold smiling at us. We were quite dumb 
 with astonishment, and I knew not at first whether it were 
 a vision or a reality. But I saw the water dripping from 
 her golden hair and rich garments, and I perceived that the 
 pretty child had been lying in the water, and needed help. 
 ' Wife,' said I, ' no one has been able to save our dear child ; 
 yet let us at any rate do for others what would have made 
 us so blessed.' We undressed the little one, put her to bed, 
 and gave her something warm ; at all this she spoke not a 
 word, and only fixed her eyes, that reflected the blue of the 
 lake and of the sky, smilingly upon us. Next morning we 
 quickly perceived that she had taken no harm from her wet- 
 ting, and now inquired about her parents, and how she had 
 come here. But she gave a confused and strange account. 
 She must have been born far from here, not only because for 
 these fifteen years I have not been able to find out anything 
 of her parentage, but because she then spoke, and at times 
 still speaks, of such singular things that such as we are 
 
UNDINE. 17 
 
 cannot tell but tliat she may liave dropped upon us from 
 the moon. She talks of golden castles, of crystal domes, 
 and heaven knows what besides. The story that she told 
 with most distinctness was, that she was out in a boat with 
 her mother on the great lake and fell into the water, and 
 that she only recovered her senses here under the trees, 
 where she felt herself quite happy on the merry shore. We 
 had still a great misgiving, and perplexity weighed on our 
 heart. We had, indeed, soon decided to keep the child we 
 had found and to bring her up in the place of our lost darling ; 
 but who could tell us whether she had been baptized or 
 not? She herself could give us no information on the 
 matter. She generally answered our questions by saying 
 that she well knew she was created for God's praise and 
 glory, and that she was ready to let us do with her what- 
 ever would tend to His honor and glory. 
 
 " My wife and I thought that if she were not baptized, 
 there was no time for delay, and that if she were, a good 
 thing could not be repeated too often. And in pursuance 
 of this idea, we reflected upon a good name for the child, 
 for we now were often at a loss to know what to call her. 
 We agreed at last that Dorothea would be the most suitable 
 for her, for I once heard that it meant a gift of God, and 
 she had surely been sent to us by God as a gift and comfort 
 in our misery. She, on the other hand, would not hear 
 of this, and told us that she thought she had been called 
 Undine by her parents, and that Undine she wished still 
 to be called. Now this appeared to me a heathenish name, 
 not to be found in any calendar, and I took counsel there- 
 fore of a priest in the city. He also would not hear of the 
 name of Undine, but at my earnest request he came with 
 me through the mysterious forest in order to perform the 
 rite of baptism here in my cottage. The little one stood 
 before us so prettily arrayed and looked so charming that 
 the priest's heart was at once moved within him, and she 
 
18 UNDINE. 
 
 flattered him so prettily, and braved liim so merrily, that 
 at last lie could no longer remember the objections he had 
 had ready against the name of Undine. She was therefore 
 baptized 'Undine,' and during the sacred ceremony she 
 behaved with great propriety and sweetness, wild and 
 restless as she invariably was at other times. For my wife 
 was quite right when she said that it has been hard to put 
 
 up with her. If I were to tell you " 
 
 The knight interrupted the fisherman to draw his atten- 
 tion to a noise, as of a rushing flood of waters, which had 
 caught his ear during the old man's talk, and which now 
 burst against the cottage window with redoubled fury. 
 Both sprang to the door. There they saw, by the light of 
 the now risen moon, the brook which issued from the 
 wood, widely overflowing its banks, and whirling away 
 stones and branches of trees in its sweeping course. The 
 storm, as if awakened by the tumult, burst forth from the 
 mighty clouds which passed rapidly across the moon ; the 
 lake roared under the furious lashing of the wind ; the 
 trees of the little peninsula groaned from root to topmost 
 bough, and bent, as if reeling, over the surging waters. 
 " Undine ! for Heaven's sake. Undine ! " cried the two men 
 in alarm. No answer was returned, and regardless of 
 every other consideration, they ran out of the cottage, 
 one in this direction, and the other in that, searching and 
 calling. 
 
 CHAPTER in. 
 
 HOW THEY rOTJND UNDINE AGAIN. 
 
 The longer Huldbrand sought Undine beneath the shades 
 of night, and failed to find her, the more anxious and con- 
 fused did he become. The idea that Undine had been only 
 a mere apparition of the forest, again gained ascendency 
 over him ; indeed, amid the howling of the wayes and the 
 
UNDINE. 19 
 
 tempest, the cracking of the trees, and the complete trans- 
 formation of a scene lately so calmly beautiful, he could 
 almost have considered the whole peninsula with its cottage 
 and its inhabitants as a mocking illusive vision ; but from 
 afar he still ever heard through the tumult the fisherman's 
 anxious call for Undine, and the loud praying and singing 
 of his aged wife. At length he came close to the brink of 
 the swollen stream, and saw in the moonlight how it had 
 taken its wild course directly in front of the haunted forest, 
 so as to change the peninsula into an island. " Oh God ! " 
 he thought to himself, "if Undine has ventured a step into 
 that fearful forest, perhaps in her charming willfulness, just 
 because I was not allowed to tell her about it ; and now the 
 stream may be rolling between us, and she may be weeping 
 on the other side alone among phantoms and specters ! " 
 A cry of horror escaped him, and he clambered down some 
 rocks and overthrown pine-stems, in order to reach the rush- 
 ing stream and by wading or swimming to seek the fugitive 
 on the other side. He remembered all the awful and won- 
 derful things which he had encountered, even by day, under 
 the now rustling and roaring branches of the forest. Above 
 all it seemed to him as if a tall man in white, whom he 
 knew but too well, was grinning and nodding on the op- . 
 posite shore ; but it was just these monstrous forms which 
 forcibly impelled him to cross the flood, as the thought 
 seized him that Undine might be among them in the ago- 
 nies of death and alone. 
 
 He had already grasped the strong branch of a pine, and 
 was standing supported by it, in the whirling current, 
 against which he could with diiSculty maintain himself ; 
 though with a courageous spirit he advanced deeper into 
 it. Just then a gentle voice exclaimed near him : " Ven- 
 ture not, venture not, the old man, the stream, is full of 
 tricks ! " He knew the sweet tones ; he stood as if entranced 
 beneath the shadows that duskily shrouded the moon, and 
 
20 UNDINE. 
 
 his head swam with the swelling of the waves, which he 
 now saw rapidly rising to his waist. Still he would not 
 desist. 
 
 "If thou art not really there, if thou art only floating 
 about me like a mist, then may I too cease to live and 
 become a shadow like thee, dear, dear Undine ! " Thus 
 exclaiming aloud, he again stepped deeper into the stream. 
 "Look round thee, oh ! look round thee, beautiful but in- 
 fatuated youth ! " cried a voice again close beside him, and 
 looking aside, he saw by the momentai'ily unveiled moon, a 
 little island formed by the flood, on which he perceived 
 under the interweaved branches of the overhanging trees, 
 Undine smiling and happy, nestling in the flowery grass. 
 
 Oh ! how much more gladly than before did the young 
 man now use ihe aid of his pine-branch ! 
 
 With a few steps he had crossed the flood which was 
 rushing between him and the maiden, and he was standing 
 beside her on a little spot of turf, safely guarded and 
 screened by the good old trees. Undine had half-raised 
 herself, and now under the green leafy tent she threw her 
 arms around his neck, and drew him down beside her on 
 her soft seat. 
 
 "You shall tell me your story here, beautiful friend," 
 said she, in a low whisper; "the cross old people cannot 
 hear us here ; and our roof of leaves is just as good a shel- 
 ter as their poor cottage." 
 
 " It is heaven itself ! " said Huldbrand, embracing the 
 beautiful girl and kissing her fervently. 
 
 The old fisherman meanwhile had come to the edge of 
 the stream, and shouted across to the two young people : 
 " Why, sir knight, I have received you as one honest- 
 hearted man is wont to receive another, and now here you 
 are caressing my foster-child in secret, and letting me run 
 hither and thither through the night in anxious search of 
 her." 
 
UNDINE. 21 
 
 " I have only just found her myself, old father," returned 
 the knight. 
 
 " So much the better," said the fisherman : " but now 
 bring her across to me without delay upon firm ground." 
 
 TJndine, however, would not hear of this ; she declared 
 she would rather go with the beautiful stranger into the 
 wild forest itself, than return to the cottage, where no 
 one did as she wished, and from which the beautiful 
 knight would himself depart sooner or later. Then, throw- 
 ing her arms round Huldbrand, she sang with indescribable 
 
 A stream ran out of the misty vale 
 
 Its fortunes to obtain. 
 In the ocean's depths it found a home 
 
 And ne'er returned again. 
 
 The old fisherman wept bitterly at her song, but this 
 did not seem to affect her particularly. She kissed and 
 caressed her new friend, who at last said to her : " Undine, 
 if the old man's distress does not touch your_ heart, it 
 touches mine — let us go back to him." 
 
 She opened her large, blue eyes in amazement at him, and 
 spoke at last, slowly and hesitatingly : " If you think so — 
 well, whatever you think is right to me. But the old man 
 yonder must first promise me that he will let you, without 
 objection, relate to me what you saw in the wood, and — 
 well, other things will settle themselves." 
 
 " Come, only come," cried the fisherman to her, unable to 
 ntter another word ; and at the same time he stretched out 
 his arms far over the rushing stream toward her, and nodded 
 his head as if to promise the fulfillment of her request, and 
 as he did this, his white hair fell strangely over his face, 
 and reminded Huldbrand of the nodding white man in the 
 forest. Without allowing himself, however, to grow con- 
 fused by such an idea, the j'oung knight took the beautiful 
 
22 UNBINK 
 
 gii-l in his arms, and bore lier over the narrow passage 
 which the stream had forced between her little island and 
 the shore. 
 
 The old man fell upon Undine's neck and could not satisfy 
 the exuberance of his joy ; his good wife also came up and 
 caressed the newly found in the heartiest manner. Not a 
 word of reproach passed their lips ; nor was it thought of, 
 for Undine, forgetting all her waywardness, almost over- 
 whelmed her foster parents with affection and fond expres- 
 sions. 
 
 When at last they had recovered from the excess of their 
 joy, day had already dawned, and had shed its purple hue 
 over the lake ; stillness had followed the storm, and the 
 little birds were singing merrily on the wet branches. As 
 Undine now insisted upon hearing the knfght's promised 
 story, the aged couple smilingly and readily acceded to her 
 desire. Breakfast was brought out under the trees which 
 screened the cottage from the lake, and they sat down to 
 it with contented hearts — Undine on the grass at the 
 knight's feet, the place chosen by herself. 
 
 Huldbrand then proceeded with his story. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 OF THAT WHICH THE KNIGHT ENCOUNTEEED IN THE WOOD. 
 
 " It is now about eight days ago since I rode into the free 
 imperial city, which lies on the other side of the forest. 
 Soon after my arrival, there was a splendid tournament and 
 running at the ring, and I spared neither my horse nor my 
 lance. Once when I was pausing at the lists, to rest after 
 my merry toil, and was handing back my helmet to one of 
 my squires, my attention was attracted by a female figure 
 of great beauty, who was standing richly attired on one of 
 the galleries allotted to spectators. 
 
 " I asked my neighbor, and learned from him that the 
 
UNDINM. 23 
 
 name of the fair lady was Bertalda, and that she was the 
 foster-daughter of one of the powerful dukes living in the 
 country. I remarked that she also was looking at me, and, 
 as it is wont to be with us young knights, I had already 
 ridden bravely, and now pursued my course with renovated 
 confidence and courage. In the dance that evening I was 
 Bertalda's partner, and I remained so throughout the 
 festival." 
 
 A sharp pain in liis left hand, which hung down by his 
 side, here interrupted Huldbrand's narrative, and drew his 
 attention to the aching part. Undine had fastened her 
 pearly teeth upon one of his fingers, appearing at the same 
 time very gloomy and angrjr. Suddenly, however, she 
 looked up in his eyes with an expression of tender melan- 
 choly, and whispered in a soft voice : " It is your own 
 fault." Then she hid her face, and the knight, strangely 
 confused and thoughtful, continued his narrative. 
 
 " This Bertalda was a haughty, wayward girl. Even on 
 the second day she pleased me no longer as she had done 
 on the first, and on the third day still less. Still I con- 
 tinued about her, because she was more pleasant to me 
 than to any other knight, and thus it was that I begged 
 her in jest to give me one of her gloves. ' I will give it 
 you when you have quite alone explored the ill-famed 
 forest,' said she, ' and can bring me tidings of its wonders.' 
 It was not that her glove was of such importance to me, 
 but the word had been s^id, and an honorable knight would 
 not allow himself to be urged a second time to such a proof 
 of valor." 
 
 " I think she loved you," said Undine, interrupting him. 
 
 " It seemed so," replied Huldbrand. 
 
 " Well," exclaimed the girl, laughing, " she must be 
 stupid indeed to drive away any one dear to her. And, 
 moreover, into an ill-omened wood. The forest and its 
 'mysteries might have waited long enough for me." 
 
24 UNDINE. 
 
 "Yesterday morning," coiitiiiuod tbe kniglit, smiling 
 kindly at Undine, " I set out on my enterprise. Tlie stems 
 of the trees caught tlie red tints of the morning light 
 which lay brightly on the green turf, the leaves seemed 
 whispering merrily with each other, and in my heart I 
 could have laughed at the people who could have expected 
 anything to terrify them in this pleasant spot. 'I shall soon 
 have trotted through the forest there and back again,' I 
 said to myself, with a feeling of easy gaycty; and before I 
 had even thought of it I was deep within the green shades, 
 and could no longer perceive the plain which lay behind 
 me. Then for the first time it struck me that I might 
 easily lose my way in the mighty forest, and that this per- 
 haps were the only danger which the wanderer had 
 to fear. I therefore paused and looked round in the 
 direction of the sun, which in the mean while had 
 risen somewhat higher above the horizon. While 
 I was thus looking up I saw something black in 
 the branches of a lofty oak. I thought it was a 
 bear, and I grasped my sword; but with a human voice, 
 that sounded harsh and vigly, it called to me from above, 
 'If I do not nibble away the branches up here, Sir Mala- 
 pei't, what shall we have to roast you with at midnight ? ' 
 And so saying it grinned and made the branches rustle, so 
 that my horse grew furious and rushed forward with me 
 before I had time to see what sort of a devil it really was." 
 
 " You must not call it so," said the old fisherman, as he 
 crossed himself ; his wife did the same silently. Undine 
 looked at the knight with sparkling eyes and said : " The 
 best of the story is that they certainly have not roasted him 
 yet ; go on now, you' beautiful youth ! " 
 
 The knight continued his narration : "My horse was so 
 wild that he almost rushed with me against the stems and 
 branches of trees ; he was dripping with sweat, and yet 
 would not suffer himself to be held in. At last he went 
 
UNDINE. 25 
 
 Straight in the direction of a rooky precipice ; then it sud- 
 denly seemed to me as if a tall white man threw himself 
 across the path of my wild steed ; the horse trembled with 
 fear and stopped ; I recovered my hold of him, and for the 
 first time perceived that my deliverer was no white man, 
 but a brook of silvery brightness, rushing down from a hill 
 by my side and crossing and impeding my horse's course." 
 
 "Tlianks, dear Brook," exclaimed Undine, clapping lier 
 little hands. The old man, however, shook his head and 
 looked down in deep thought. 
 
 " I had scarcely settled myself in the saddle," continued 
 Huldbrand, " and seized the reins firmly, when a wonderful 
 little man stood at my side, diminutive and ugly beyond 
 conception. His complexion was of a yellowish brown, and 
 his nose not much smaller than the rest of his entire person. 
 At the same time he kept grinning with stupid courtesy, 
 exhibiting his huge mouth, and making a thousand scrapes 
 and bows to me. As this farce was now becoming incon- 
 venient to me, I thanked him briefly and turned about ray 
 still trembling steed, thinking either to seek another adven- 
 ture, or in case I met with none, to find my way back, for 
 during my wild chase the sun had already passed the meri- 
 dian; but the little fellow sprang round with the speed of 
 lightning and stood again before my horse. ' Room ! ' I 
 cried angrily ; 'the .animal is wild and may easily run over 
 you.' ' Ay, ay ! ' snarled the imp, with a grin still more 
 horribly stupid. ' Give me first some drink-money, for I 
 have stopped your horse ; without me you and your horse 
 would be now both lying in the stony ravine ; ugh ! ' 
 ' Don't make any more faces,' said I, ' and take your money, 
 even if you are telling lies ; for see, it was the good brook 
 there that saved me, and not you, you miserable wight ! ' 
 And at the same time I dropped a piece of gold into his 
 grotesque cap, which he had taken off in his begging. I 
 then trotted on ; but he screamed after me, and suddenly 
 
26 UNDINE. 
 
 with inconceivable quickness was at my side. I urged my 
 horse into a gallop ; the imp ran too, making at the same 
 time strange contortions with his body, half-ridiculous, half- 
 horrible, and holding up the gold-piece, he cried, at every 
 leap, ' False money ! false coin ! false coin ! false 
 money ! ' — and this he uttered with such a hollow sound 
 that one would have supposed that after every scream he 
 would have fallen dead to the ground. 
 
 " His horiid red tongue moreover hung far out of his 
 mouth. I stopped, perplexed, and asked : ' What do you 
 mean by this screaming ? take another piece of gold, take 
 two, but leave me.' He then began again his hideous bur- 
 lesque of politeness, and snarled out : ' Not gold, not gold, 
 my young gentleman. I have too nmch of that trash my- 
 self, as I will show you at once ! ' 
 
 " Suddenly it seemed to me as if I could see through the 
 solid .soil as though it were green glass and the smooth 
 earth were as round as a ball ; and within, a multitude of 
 goblins were making sport with silver and gold ; head over 
 heels they were rolling about, pelting each other in jest 
 with the precious metals, and provokingly blowing the 
 gold-dust in each other's eyes. My hideous companion 
 stood partly within and partly without ; he ordered the 
 others to reach him up heaps of gold, and, showing it to me 
 with a laugh, he then flung it back again with a ringing 
 noise into the immeasurable abyss. 
 
 "He then showed the piece of gold I had given him to 
 the goblins below, and they laughed themselves half-dead 
 over it and hissed at me. At last they all pointed at me 
 with their metal- stained lingers, and more and more wildly, 
 and more and more densely, and more and more madly the 
 swarm of spirits came clambering up to me. I was seized 
 with terror as my horse had been before ; I put spurs to 
 him, and I know not how far I galloped for the second time 
 wildly into the forest. 
 
UNDINE. 27 
 
 "At length, when I again halted, the coolness of even- 
 ing was around me. Through the branches of the trees I 
 saw a white foot-path gleaming, which I fancied must lead 
 from the forest toward the city. I was anxious to work 
 my way in that direction ; but a face perfectly white and 
 indistinct, with features ever changing, kept peering at 
 me between the leaves ; I tried to avoid it, but wherever I 
 went it appeared also. Enraged at this, I determined at 
 last to ride at it, when it gushed forth volumes of foam 
 upon me and my horse, obliging us, half -blinded, to make a 
 rapid retreat. Thus it drove us step by step ever away 
 from the foot-path, leaving the way open to us only in one 
 direction. When we advanced in this direction, it kept in- 
 deed close behind us, but did not do us the slightest harm. 
 
 "Looking around at it occasionally, I perceived that the 
 white face that had besprinkled us with foam belonged to 
 a form equally white and of gigantic stature. Many a 
 time I thought that it was a moving stream, but I could 
 never convince myself on the subject. Wearied out, the 
 horse and his rider yielded to the impelling power of the 
 white man, who kept nodding his head, as if he would say, 
 ' Quite right, quite right ! ' And thus at last we came out 
 here to the end of the forest, where I saw the turf and the 
 lake and your little cottage, and where the tall white man 
 disappeared." 
 
 " It's well that he's gone," said the old fisherman ; and 
 now he began to talk of the best way by which his guest 
 could return to his friends in the city. Upon this Undine 
 began to laugh slyly to herself ; Huldbrand observed it, 
 and said : " I thought you were glad to see me here ; why 
 then do you now rejoice when my departure is talked of ? " 
 
 " Because you cannot go away," replied Undine. "Just 
 try it once, to cross that overflowed forest stream with a 
 boat, with your horse, or alone, as you may fancy. Or 
 rs-ther don't try it, for you would be dashed to pieces by 
 
28 VNDINE. 
 
 the stones and trunks of trees which are carried down by it 
 with the speed of lightning. And as to the lake, I know it 
 well ; father dare not venture out far enough with his 
 boat." 
 
 Huldbrand rose, smiling, in order to see whether things 
 were as Undine had said ; the old man accompanied him, 
 and the girl danced merrily along by their side. They 
 found everything indeed, as Undine had described, and the 
 knight was obliged to submit to remain on the little tongue 
 of land, that had become an island, till the flood should 
 subside. As the three were returning to the cottage after 
 their ramble, the knight wliispered in the ear of the little 
 maiden : " Well, how is it my pretty Undine — are you angry 
 at my remaining ? " 
 
 " Ah ! " she replied peevishly, " let me alone. If I had 
 not bitten you, who knows how much of Bertalda would 
 have appeared in your story ? " 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 HOW THE KNIGHT LIVED ON THE LITTLE PEOM0>'TOBT. 
 
 Aftee having been much driven to and fro in the 
 world, you have perhaps, my dear reader, reached at length 
 some spot where all was well with thee ; where the love for 
 home and its calm peace, innate to all, has again sprung 
 up within thee ; where thou hast thought that this home 
 was rich with all the flowers of childhood and of the 
 purest, deepest love that rests upon the graves of those 
 that are gone, and thou hast felt it must be good to dwell 
 here and to build habitations. Even if thou hast erred in 
 this, and hast had afterward bitterly to atone for the error, 
 that is nothing to the purpose now, and thou wouldst not, 
 indeed, voluntarily sadden thyself with the unpleasant 
 recollection. But recall that inexpressibly sweet forebod- 
 ing, that angelic sense of peace, and thou wilt know some- 
 
UNDINE. 29 
 
 what of the knight Huldbrand's feelings during his abode 
 on the little promontory. 
 
 He often perceived with hearty satisfaction that the 
 forest stream rolled along every day more wildly, making 
 its bed ever broader and broader, and prolonging his sojourn 
 on the island to an indefinite period. Part of the day he 
 rambled about with an old cross-bow, which he had found 
 in a corner of the cottage and had repaired ; and, watching 
 for the water-fowl, he killed all that he could for the cottage 
 kitchen. When he brought his booty home. Undine rarely 
 neglected to upbraid him with having so cruelly deprived 
 the happy birds of life ; indeed she often wept bitterly at 
 the sight he placed before her. But if he came home 
 another time without having shot anything she scolded him 
 no less seriously, since now, from his carelessness and want 
 of skill, they had to be satisfied with living on fish. He 
 always delighted heartily in her graceful little scoldings, 
 all the more as she generally strove to compensate for her 
 ill humor by the sweetest caresses. 
 
 The old people took pleasure in the intimacy of the 
 young pair ; they regarded them as betrothed, or even as 
 already united in marriage, and living on this isolated spot, 
 as a succor and support to them in their old age. It was 
 this same sense of seclusion that suggested the idea also to 
 Huldbrand's mind that he was already Undine's accepted 
 one. He felt as if there were no world beyond these sur- 
 rounding waters, or as if he could never recross them to 
 mingle with other men ; and when at times his grazing horse 
 would neigh as if inquiringly to remind him of knightly 
 deeds, or when the coat of arms on his embroidered saddle 
 and horse gear shone sternly upon him, or when his beautiful 
 sword would suddenly fall from the nail on which it was 
 hanging in the cottage, gliding from the scabbard as it fell, 
 he would quiet the doubts of his mind by saying : " Undine 
 is no fisherman's daughter ; she belongs in all probability to 
 
30 UNDINE. 
 
 some illustrious family abroad." There was only one thing 
 to which he had a strong aversion, and this was when the 
 old dame reproved Undine in his presence. The wayward 
 girl, it is true, laughed at it for the most part, without at- 
 tempting to conceal her mirth ; hut it seemed to him as if 
 his honor were concerned, and yet he could not blame the 
 old fisherman's wife, for Undine always deserved at least 
 ton times as many reproofs as she received ; so, in his heart 
 he felt the balance in favor of the old woman, and his whole 
 life flowed onward in calm enjoyment. 
 
 There came, however, an interruption at last. The 
 fisherman and the knight had been accustomed, at their 
 midday meal, and also in the evening when the wind 
 roared without, as it was always wont to do toward night, 
 to enjoy together a flask of wine. But now the store 
 which the fisherman had from tinje to time brought with 
 him from the town, was exhausted, and the two men were 
 quite out of humor in consequence. 
 
 Undine laughed at them excessively all day, but they 
 were neither of them merry enough to join in her jests 
 as usual. Toward evening she went out of the cottage to 
 avoid, as she said, two such long and tiresome faces. As 
 twilight advanced, there were again tokens of a storm, and 
 the waters rushed and roared. Full of alarm, the knight 
 and the fisherman sprang to the door, to bring home the 
 girl, remembering the anxiety of that night when Huld- 
 brand had first come to the cottage. Undine, however, 
 met them, clapping her little hands with delight. " "What 
 will you give me," she said, " to provide you with wine ? " 
 or rather, " you need not give me anything," she continued, 
 "for I am satisfied if you will look men-ier and be in better 
 spirits than you have been throughout this whole weari- 
 some day. Only come with me ; the forest stream has 
 driven ashore a cask, and I will be condemned to sleep 
 through a whole week if it is not a wiue-cask," The men 
 
VNDINE. 31 
 
 followed her, and in a sheltered creek on the shore, they 
 actually found a cask, which inspired them with the hope 
 that it contained the generous drink for which they were 
 thirsting. 
 
 They at once rolled it as quickly as possible toward the 
 cottage, for the western sky was overcast with heavy storm- 
 clouds, and they could observe in the twilight the waves 
 of the lake raising their v/liite, foaming heads, as if look- 
 ing out for the rain which was presently to pour down 
 upon them. Undine helped the men as much as she was 
 able, and when the storm of rain suddenly burst over them, 
 she said, with a merry threat to the heavy clouds, " Come, 
 come, take care that you don't wet us ; we are still some 
 way from shelter." The old man reproved her for this, as 
 simple presumption, but she laughed softly to herself, and 
 no mischief befell any one in consequence of her levity. 
 Nay, more ; contrary to all expectation, they reached the 
 comfortable hearth with their booty perfectly dry, and it 
 was not till tliey had opened the cask, and had proved that 
 it contained some wonderfully excellent wine, that the rain 
 burst forth from the dark cloud, and the storm raged among 
 the tops of the trees and over the agitated billows of the 
 lake. 
 
 Several bottles were soon filled from the great cask, 
 which promised a supply for many days, and they were 
 sitting drinking and jesting round the glowing fire, feeling 
 comfortably secured from the raging storm without. Sud- 
 denly the old fisherman became very grave and said : " All, 
 great God ! here we are rejoicing over this rich treasure, 
 and he to whom it once belonged, and of whom the floods 
 have robbed it, has probably lost his precious life in their 
 waters." 
 
 "That he has not," declared TJndine, as she smilingly 
 filled the knight's cup to the brim. 
 
 But Huldbrand replied : " By my honor, old father, if I 
 
32 UNDINE. 
 
 knew where to find and to rescue him, no knightly errand 
 and no danger would I shirk. So much, however, I can 
 promise you, that if ever again I reach more inhabited 
 lands, I will find out the owner of this wine or his heirs, 
 and requite it two-fold ; nay, three-fold." 
 
 This delighted the old man ; he nodded approvingly to 
 the knight, and drained his cup with a better conscience 
 and greater jjleasure. 
 
 Undine, however, said to Iluldbrand : "Do as you will 
 with your gold and your i-eimbursement ; but you spoke 
 foolishly about the venturing out in search ; I should cry 
 my eyes out if you were lost in the attempt, and isn't it 
 true that you would yourself rather stay with me and the 
 good wine ? " 
 
 " Yes, indeed," answered Iluldbrand, smiling. 
 
 " Then," said Undine, " you spoke unwisely. For charity 
 begins at home, and what do other people concern us ? " 
 
 The old woman turned away sighing and shaking her 
 head ; the fisherman forgot his wonted affection for the 
 pretty girl and scolded her. 
 
 " It sounds exactly," said he, as he finished his reproof, 
 " as if Turks and heathens had brought" j^ou up ; may God 
 forgive both me and j'ou, you spoiled child." 
 
 " Well," replied Undine, " for all that, it is what I feel, 
 let who will have brought me up, and all your words can't 
 help that." 
 
 " Silence ! " exclaimed the fisherman, and Undine, who, 
 in spite of her pertness, was exceedingly fearful, shrank 
 from him, and moving tremblingly toward Huldbrand, 
 asked him, in a soft tone, "Are you also angry, dear friend ? " 
 
 The knight pressed her tender hand and stroked her hair. 
 He could say nothing, for vexation at the old man's severity 
 toward Undine closed his lips ; and thus the two couples 
 sat opposite to each other, with angry feelings and "Em- 
 barrassed silence. 
 
UNDINE. 33 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 OF A NUPTIAL CEREMONY. 
 
 A LOW knockiDg at the door was heard ia the midst of 
 this stillness, startling all the inmates of the cottage ; for 
 there are times when a little circumstance, happening quite 
 unexpectedly, can unduly alarm us. But there was here the 
 additional cause of alarm that the enchanted forest lay so 
 near, and that the little promontory seemed just now inac- 
 cessible to human beings. They looked at each other 
 doubtingly, as the knocking was repeated, accompanied by 
 a deep groan, and the knight sprang to reach his sword. 
 But the old man whispered softly, " If it be what I fear, 
 no weapon will help us." 
 
 Undine meanwhile approached the door and called out 
 angrily and boldly, " Spirits of the earth, if you wish to 
 carry on your mischief, Ktihleborn shall teach you some- 
 thing better." 
 
 The terror of the rest was increased by these mysterious 
 words ; they looked fearfully at the girl, and Huldbrand 
 was just regaining courage enough to ask what she meant, 
 when a voice said without : " I am not a spirit of the 
 earth, but a spirit indee'd still within its earthly body. You 
 within the cottage, if you fear God and will help me, open 
 to me." At these words. Undine had already opened the 
 door, and had held a lamp out in the stormy night, by which 
 they perceived an aged priest standing there, who stepped 
 back in terror at the unexpected sight of the beautiful 
 maiden. He might well think that witchcraft and 
 magic were at work when such a lovely form appeared at 
 such an humble cottage door : he therefore began to pray ; 
 "All good spirits praise the Lord ! " 
 
 " I am no specter," said Undine smiling ; " do I then 
 look so ugly ? Besides you may see the holy words do not 
 
34 UNDINE. 
 
 frighten me. I too know of God, and understand how to 
 praise Him ; every one to be sure in his own way, for so He 
 has created us. Come in, venerable father ; you come 
 among good people." 
 
 The holy man entered, bowing and looking round him, 
 with a profound, yet tender demeanor. But the water was 
 dropping from evei'y fold of his dark garment, and fi-om 
 his long white beard and from his gray locks. The fisher- 
 man and the knight took him to another apartment and 
 furnished him with other clothes, while they gave the 
 women his own wet attire to dry. The aged stranger 
 thanked them humbly and courteously, but he would on no 
 account accept the knight's splendid mantle, which was 
 offered to him ; but he chose instead an old gray overcoat 
 belonging to the fisherman. They then returned to the 
 apartment, and the good old dame immediately vacated her 
 easy -chair for the reverend father, and would not rest till he 
 had taken possession of it. " For," said she, " you are old 
 and exhausted, and you are moreover a man of God." 
 Undine pushed under the stranger's feet her little stool, on 
 wliich she had been wont to sit by the side of Huldbrand, 
 and she showed herself in every way most gentle and kind 
 in her care of the good old man. ^ Huldbrand whispered 
 some raillery at it in her ear, but she replied very seriously ; 
 " He is a servant of him who created us all ; holy things 
 are not to be jested with." The knight and the fisherman 
 then refreshed their revered guest with food and wine, and 
 when he had somewhat recovered himself, he began to 
 relate how he had the day before set out from his cloister, 
 which lay far beyond the great lake, intending to travel to 
 the bishop, in order to acquaint him with the distress into 
 which the monastery and its tributary villages had fallen 
 on account of the extraordinary floods. 
 
 After a long, circuitous route, which these very floods had 
 obliged him to take, he had been this day compelled, toward 
 
UNBmE. 35 
 
 evening, to procure the aid of a couple of good boatmen to 
 cross an arm of the lake, wliicli had oyerflowed its banks. 
 
 " Scarcely, however," continued he, " had our small craft 
 touched the waves, than that furious tempest burst forth 
 which is now raging over our heads. It seemed as if the 
 waters had only waited for us to commence their wildest 
 whirling dance with our little boat. The oars were soon 
 torn out of the hands of my men, and were dashed by the 
 force of the waves further and further beyond our reach. 
 We ourselves, yielding to the resistless powers of nature, 
 helplessly drifted over the surging billows of the lake 
 toward your distant shore, which we already saw looming 
 through the mist and foam. Presently our boat turned 
 round and round as in a giddy whirlpool ; I know not 
 whether it was upset, or whether I fell overboard. In a 
 vague terror of inevitable death I di'ifted on, till a wave 
 cast me here, under the trees on your island." 
 
 "Yes, island ! " cried the fisherman ; " a short time ago 
 it was only a point of land ; but now, since the forest- 
 stream and the lake have become well-nigh bewitched, 
 tilings are quite different with us." 
 
 "I remarked something of the sort," said the priest, "as 
 I crept along the shore in tlie dark, and hearing nothing 
 but the uproar around me, I at last perceived that a beaten 
 foot-path disappeared just in the direction from which the 
 sound proceeded. I now saw the light in your cottage, 
 and ventured hither, and I cannot sufficiently thank my 
 heavenly Father that, after preserving me from the waters, 
 He has led me to such good and pious people as you are ; 
 and I feel this all the more, as I do not know whether I 
 shall ever behold any other beings in this world, except 
 those I now address." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " asked the fisherman. 
 
 " Do you know then how long this commotion of the 
 elements is to last ? " replied the holy man. " And I am old 
 
36 UNDINE. 
 
 in years. Easily enough may the stream of my life run 
 itself out before the overflowing of the forest-stream may 
 subside. And indeed it were not impossible that more and 
 more of the foaming waters may force their way between 
 you and yonder forest, until you are so far sundered from 
 the rest of the world that your little fishing-boat will no 
 longer be sufiicient to carry you across, and the inhabitants 
 of the continent in the midst of their diversions will have 
 entirely forgotten you in your old age." 
 
 The fisherman's wife started at this, crossed herself and 
 exclaimed, " God forbid ! " But her husband looked at her 
 with a smile, and said : " What creatures we are, after all ! 
 even were it so, things would not be very different — at least 
 not for you, dear wife — than they now are. For have you 
 for many years been further than the edge of tlie forest ? 
 and have you seen any other human beings tlian Undine 
 and myself? The knight and this holy man have only 
 come to us lately. Tliey will remain witli us if we do 
 become a forgotten island ; so you would even be a gainer 
 by it after all." 
 
 "I don't know," said the old woman; "it is somehow a 
 gloomy thought, when one imagines that one is irrecover- 
 ably separated from other people, although, were it other- 
 wise, one might neither know nor see them." 
 
 " Then you will remain with us ! then you will remain 
 with us ! " whispered Undine, in a low, half-singing tone, 
 as she nestled closer to Huldbrand's side. But he was ab- 
 sorbed in the deep and strange visions of his own mind. 
 
 The region on the other side of the forest-river seemed to 
 dissolve into distance daring the priest's last words ; and 
 the blooming island upon which he lived grew more green, 
 and smiled more freshly in his mind's vision. His beloved 
 one glowed as the fairest rose of this little spot of earth, 
 and even of the whole world, and the priest was actually 
 there. Added to this, at that moment an angry glance 
 
UNDINE. 37 
 
 from the old dame was directed at the beautiful girl, because 
 even in the presence of the reverend father she leaned so 
 closely on the knight, and it seemed as if a torrent of re- 
 proving words were on the point of following. Presently, 
 turning to the priest, Iluldbrand broke forth : " Venerable 
 father, you see before you here a pair pledged to each 
 other, and if this maiden and these good old people have 
 no objection, you shall unite us this very evening." The 
 aged couple were extremely surprised. They had, it is 
 true, hitherto often thought of something of the sort, but 
 they had never yet expressed it, and when the knight now 
 spoke thus, it came upon them as something wholly new 
 and unprecedented. 
 
 Undine had become suddenly grave, and looked down 
 thoughtfully while the priest inquired respecting the cir- 
 cumstances of the case, and asked if the old people gave 
 their consent. After much discussion together, the matter 
 was settled ; the old dame went to arrange the bridal 
 chamber for the young people, and to look out for two con- 
 secrated tapers which she had had in her possession for some 
 time, and which she thought essential to the nuptial cere- 
 mony. The knight in the mean while examined his gold 
 chain, from which he wished to disengage two rings, that 
 he might make an exchange of them with his bride. 
 
 She, however, observing what he was doing, started up 
 from her reverie, and exclaimed : " Not so ! my parents 
 have not sent me into the world quite destitute ; on the 
 contrary, they must have anticipated with certainty that 
 such an evening as this would come." Thus saying, she 
 quickly left the room and reappeared in a moment with 
 two costly rings, one of which she gave to her bridegroom, 
 and kept the other for herself. The old fisherman was 
 extremely astonished at this, and still more so his wife, who 
 just then entered, for neither had ever seen these jewels in 
 the child's possession. 
 
38 TINBINE. 
 
 "My parents," said Undine, "sewed these little things 
 into the beautiful frock which I had on, when I came to 
 you. They forbid me, moreover, to mention them to any 
 one before my wedding evening, so I secretly took them, 
 and kept them concealed until now." 
 
 The priest interrupted all further questionings by lighting 
 the consecrated tapers, which he placed upon a table, and 
 summoned the bridal pair to stand opposite to him. He 
 then gave them to each other with a few short solemn words; 
 the elder couple gave their blessing to the younger, and the 
 bride, trembling and thoughtful, leaned upon the knight. 
 Then the priest suddenly said : " You are strange people 
 after all. Why did you tell me you were the only people 
 here on the island ? and during the whole ceremony, a tall 
 stately man, in a white mantle, has been looking at me 
 through the window opposite. He must still be standing 
 before the door, to see if you will invite him to come into 
 the house." 
 
 " God forbid," said the old dame with a start ; the fisher- 
 man shook his head in silence, and Huldbrand sprang to the 
 window. It seemed even to him as if he could still see a 
 white streak, but it soon completely disappeared in the 
 darkness. He convinced the priest that he must have been ■ 
 absolutely mistaken, and they all sat down together round 
 the hearth. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 WHAT FUETHEE HAPPENED ON THE EVENING OP THE 
 WEDDING. 
 
 Both before and during the ceremony, Undine had 
 shown herself gentle and quiet ; but it now seemed as if 
 all the wayward humors which rioted within her, burst 
 forth all the more boldly and unrestrainedly. She teased 
 her bridegroom and her foster-parents, and even the holy 
 
UNDINK 39 
 
 man whom she had so lately reverenced, with all sorts of 
 childish tricks ; and when the old woman was about to re- 
 prove her, she was quickly silenced by a few grave words 
 from the knight, speaking of Undine now as his wife. Never- 
 theless the knight himself was equally little pleased with 
 Undine's childish behavior ; but no signs, and no reproach- 
 ful words were of any avail. It is true, whenever the 
 bride noticed her husband's dissatisfaction — and this oc- 
 curred occasionally — she became more quiet, sat down by 
 his side, caressed him, whispered something smilingly into 
 his ear, and smoothed the wrinkles that were gathering on 
 his brow. But immediately afterward, some wild freak 
 would again lead her to return to her ridiculous proceed- 
 ings, and matters would be worse than before. At length 
 the priest said in a serious and kind tone : " My fair j'oung 
 maiden, no one indeed can look at you without delight ; 
 but remember so to attune your soul betimes, that it may 
 ever harmonize with that of your wedded husband." 
 
 " Soul ! " said Undine laughing ; " that sounds pretty 
 enough, and may be a very edifying and useful caution for 
 most people. But when one hasn't a soul at all, I beg 
 you, what is there to attune then? and tliat is my case." 
 The priest was silent and deeply wounded, and with holy 
 displeasure he turned his face from the girl. She however 
 went up to him caressingly, and said : " N"o ! listen to me 
 first, before you look angry, for your look of anger gives 
 me pain, and you must not give pain to any creature who has 
 done you no wrong — only have patience with me, and I will 
 tell you properly what I mean ? " 
 
 It was evident that she was preparing herself to explain 
 something in detail, but suddenly she hesitated, as if seized 
 with an inward shuddering, and burst out into a flood of 
 tears. Then none of them knew what to make of this 
 ebullition, and filled with various apprehensions they 
 gazed at her in silence. At length, wiping away her tears, 
 
40 VNDINE. 
 
 and looking earnestly at the reverend man, she said : 
 " Thei-e must be something beautiful, but at the same time 
 extremely awful about a soul. Tell me, holy sir, were it 
 not better that we never shared such a gift ? " She was 
 silent again as if waiting for an answer, and her tears had 
 ceased to flow. All in the cottage had risen from their 
 seats and had stepped back from her with horror. She, 
 however, seemed to have eyes for no one but the holy man ; 
 her features wore an expression of fearful curiosity, which 
 appeared terrible to those who saw her. " The soul must 
 be a heavy burden," she continued, as no one answered her, 
 " very heavy ! for even its approaching image overshad- 
 ows me with anxiety and sadness. And, ah ! I was so 
 light-hearted and so merry till now ! " And she burst 
 into a fresh flood of tears, and covered her face with the 
 drapery she wore. Then the priest went up to her with a 
 solemn air, and spoke to her, and conjured her by the name 
 of the Most Holy to cast aside the veil tliat enveloped her, 
 if any spirit of evil possessed hei'. But she sank on her 
 knees before him, repeating all the sacred words he uttered, 
 praising God, and protesting that she wished well with the 
 whole world. 
 
 Tlien at last the priest said to the knight : "Sir bride- 
 groom, I will leave you alone with her whom I have united 
 to you in marriage. So far as I can discover there is 
 nothing of evil in her, but much indeed that is mysterious. 
 I commend to you — prudence, love, and fldelity." So say- 
 ing, he went out, and tlie fisherman and his wife followed 
 him crossing themselves. 
 
 Undine had sunk on her knees ; she unveiled her face 
 and said, looking timidly round on Huldbrand : " Alas ! 
 you will surely now not keep me as your own ; and yet I 
 have done no evil, poor child that I am ! " As she said 
 this, she looked so exquisitely graceful and touching, that 
 her bridegroom forgot all the horror he had felt, and all 
 
UNDINE. 41 
 
 the mystery that clung to her, and hastening to her, he 
 raised her in his arms. She smiled through her tears ; it 
 was a smile like the morning-light playing on a little 
 stream. " You cannot leave me," she whispered, with con- 
 fident security, stroking the knight's cheek with her tender 
 hand. Huldbrand tried to dismiss the fearful thoughts tliat 
 still lurked in the background of his mind, persuading him 
 that he was married to a fairy or to some malicious and 
 mischievous being of the spirit world, only the single ques- 
 tion half unawares escaped his lips : " My little Undine, 
 tell me this one tiling, what was it you said of spirits of the 
 earth and of Kuhleborn, when the priest knocked at the 
 door?" 
 
 " It was nothing but fairy tales! — children's fairy tales! " 
 said Undine, with all her wonted gayety; "I frightened 
 you at first with them, and tlien you frightened me, that's 
 the end of our story and of our nuptial evening." 
 
 " Nay ! that it isn't," said the knight intoxicated with 
 love, and extinguishing the tapers, he bore his beautiful be- 
 loved to the bridal chamber by the light of the moon which 
 shone brightly through the windows. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE DAT AFTER THE WEDDING. 
 
 The fresh light of the morning awoke the young mar- 
 ried pair. Wonderful and horrible dreams had disturbed 
 Huldbrand's rest ; he had been haunted by specters, who, 
 grinning at him by stealth, had tried to disguise themselves 
 as beautiful women, and from beautiful women they all at 
 once assumed the faces of dragons, and when he started up 
 from these hideous visions, the moonlight shone pale and 
 cold into the room ; terrified he looked at Undine, who still 
 lay in unaltered beauty and grace. Then he would press a 
 light kiss upon her rosy lips, and would fall asleep again 
 
42 VNDINS!, 
 
 only to be a wakened by new terrors- After be bad reflected 
 on all tbis, now tbat be was fully awake, be reproacbed bim- 
 self for any doubt tbat could bave led bim into error with 
 regard to bis beautiful wife. He beg-ged bef to forgive 
 bim for tbe injustice he bad done bef, but sbe only beld out 
 to bim ber fair band, sighed deeply, and remained silent. 
 But a glance of exquisite fervor beamed from her eyes such 
 as he bad never seen before, carrying with it tbe full as- 
 surance tbat Undine bore him no ill will. He then rose 
 cheerfully and left ber, to join his friends in the common 
 apartment. 
 
 He found the three sitting round the hearth, with an air 
 of anxiety about them, as if they dared not venture to speak 
 aloud. Tbe priest seemed to be praying in his inmost 
 spirit tbat all evil might be averted. When, however, 
 they saw the young husband come forth so cheerfully, tbe 
 careworn expression of their faces vanished. 
 
 The old fisherman even began to jest with the knight so 
 pleasantly that tbe aged wife smiled good-bumoredly as 
 sbe listened to them. Undine at length made ber appear- 
 ance. All rose to meet her, and all stood still with sur- 
 prise, for tbe young wife seemed so strange to them and 
 yet the same. Tbe priest was tbe first to advance toward 
 ber, with paternal afl^ection beaming in his face, and, as he 
 raised bis band to bless ber, the beautiful woman sank 
 reverently on her knees before bim. With a few humble 
 and gracious words sbe begged him to forgive her for any 
 foolish things she might bave said tbe evening before, and 
 entreated bim in an agitated tone to pray for tbe welfare 
 of ber soul. She then rose, kissed her foster-parents, and 
 thanking them for all the goodness they bad shown her, 
 sbe exclaimed : " Ob ! I now feel in my innermost heart, 
 bow much, bow infinitely much, you have done for me, 
 dear, kind people ! " She could not at first desist from ber 
 caresses, but scarcely bad she perceived tbat the old woman 
 
UNDINE. 43 
 
 was busy in preparing breakfast, than she went to the 
 hearth, cooked and arranged the meal, and would not suffer 
 the good old mother to take the least trouble. 
 
 She continued thus throughout the whole day, quiet, 
 kind, and attentive — at once a little matron ind a tender, 
 bashful girl. The three who had known her longest, ex- 
 pected every moment to see some whimsical vagary of her 
 capricious spirit burst forth. But they waited in vain for 
 it. Undine remained as mild and gentle as an angel. The 
 holy father could not take his eyes from hei', and he said 
 repeatedly to the bridegroom : " The goodness of heaven, 
 sir, has intrusted a treasure to you yesterday through me, 
 unworthy as I am ; cherish it as you ought, and it will pro- 
 mote your temporal and eternal welfare." 
 
 Toward evening Undine was hanging on the knight's arm 
 with humble tenderness, and drew him gently out of the 
 door, where the declining sun was shining pleasantly on the 
 fresh grass, and upon the tall, slender stems of the trees. 
 The eyes of the young wife were moist, as with the dew of 
 sadness and love, and a tender and fearful secret seemed 
 hovering on her Ups, which, however, was only disclosed 
 by scarcely audible sighs. She led her husband onward 
 and onward in silence f when he spoke, she only answered 
 him with looks, in which, it is true, there lay no direct 
 reply to his inquiries, but a whole heaven of love and timid 
 devotion. Thus they reached the edge of the swollen for- 
 est stream, and the knight was astonished to see it rippling 
 along in gentle waves, without a trace of its former wild- 
 ness and swell. " By the morning it will be quite dry," 
 said the beautiful wife, in a regretful tone, " and you can 
 then travel away wherever you will, without anything to 
 hinder you." 
 
 " Not without you, my little Undine," replied the knight, 
 laughing ; "remember, even if I wished to desert you, the 
 church, and the spiritual powers, and the emperor, and the 
 
44 UNDINE. 
 
 empire would interpose and bring the fugitive back again." 
 " All depends upon you, all depends upon you," whis- 
 pered his wife, half-weeping and half -smiling. " I think, 
 however, nevertheless, that you will keep me with you. I 
 love you so heartily. Now carry me across to that little 
 island that lies before us. The matter shall be decided 
 there. I could easily indeed glide through the rippling 
 waves, but it is so restful in your arms, and if you were to 
 cast me off, I shall have sweetly rested in them once more 
 for the last time." Huldbrand, full as he was of strange 
 fear and emotion, knew not what to reply. He took her 
 in his arms and carried her across, remembering now for 
 the first time that this was the same little island from 
 which he had borne her back to the old fisherman on that 
 first night. On the further side he put her down on the 
 soft grass, and was on the point of placing himself lovingly 
 near his beautiful burden, when she said : " No, there, 
 opposite to me ! I will read my sentence in your ej'es, be- 
 fore your lips speak ; now, listen attentively to what I will 
 relate to you." And she began : 
 
 " You must know, my loved one, that there are beings in 
 the elements which almost appear like mortals, and which 
 rarely allow themselves to become visible to your race. 
 Wonderful salamanders glitter and sport in the flames ; 
 lean and malicious gnomes dwell deep within the earth ; 
 spirits, belonging to the air, wander through the forests, 
 and a vast family of water-spirits live in the lakes, and 
 streams, and brooks. In resounding domes of crystal, 
 through which the sky looks in with its sun and stars, these 
 latter spirits find their beautiful abode ; lofty trees of coral 
 with blue and crimson fruits gleam in their gardens ; they 
 wander over the pure sand of the sea, and among lovely 
 variegated shells, and amid all exquisite treasures of the old 
 world, which the present is no longer worthy to enjoy ; all 
 these the floods have covered with their secret veils of 
 
UNBINE. 45 
 
 silver, and the noble monuments sparkle below, stately and 
 solemn, and bedewed by the loving waters which allure 
 from them many a beautiful moss-flower and entwining 
 cluster of sea-grass. Those, however, who dwell there are 
 very fair and lovely to behold, and for the most part are 
 more beautiful than human beings. Many a fisherman has 
 been so fortunate as to surprise some tender mermaid as 
 she rose above the waters and sang. He would tell afar 
 of her beauty, and such wonderful beings have been given 
 the name of Undines. You, however, are now actually 
 beholding an Undine." 
 
 The knight tried to persuade himself that his beautiful 
 wife was under the spell of one of her strange humors, and 
 that she was taking pleasure in teasing him with one of her 
 extravagant inventions. But repeatedly as he said this to 
 himself, he could not believe it for a moment ; a strange 
 shudder passed through him ; unable to utter a word, he 
 stared at the beautiful narrator with an immovable gaze. 
 Undine shook her head sorrowfully, drew a deep sigh, and 
 then proceeded as follows : 
 
 " Our condition would be far superior to that of other 
 human beings — for human beings we call ourselves, being 
 similar to them in form and culture — but there is one evil 
 peculiar to us. We and our like in the other elements, 
 vanish into dust and pass away, body and spirit, so that 
 not a vestige of us remains behind ; and when you mortals 
 hereafter awake to a purer life, we remain with the sand 
 and the sparks and the wind and the waves. Hence we 
 have also no souls ; the element moves us, and is often 
 obedient to us while we live, though it scatters us to dust 
 when we die ; and we are merry, without having aught to 
 grieve us — merry as the nightingales and the little gold- 
 fishes and other pretty children of nature. But all things 
 aspire to be higher than they are. Thus, my father, who 
 is a powerful water-prince in the Mediterranean Sea, desired 
 
40 UNDINE. 
 
 that his only daughter should become possessed of a soul, 
 even though she must then endure many of the sufferings 
 of those thus endowed. ' Such as we are, however, can only 
 obtain a soul by the closest union of affection with one of 
 your human race. I am now possessed of a soul, and my 
 soul thanks you, my inexpressibly beloved one, and it will 
 ever thank you, if you do not make my whole life miserable. 
 For what is to become of me, if you avoid and reject me ? 
 Still, I would not retain you by deceit. ' And if you mean 
 to reject me, do so now, and return alone to the shore. I 
 will dive into this brook, which is my uncle ; and here in 
 the forest, far removed from other friends, he passes his 
 strange and solitary life. He is, however, powerful, and is 
 esteemed and beloved by many great streams ; and as he 
 brought me hither to the fisherman, a light-hearted, laugh- 
 ing child, he will take me back again to my parents, a 
 loving, suffering, and soul-endowed woman." 
 
 She was about to say still more, but Huldbrand em- 
 braced her with the most heartfelt emotion and love, and 
 bore her back again to the shore. It was not till he 
 reached it, that he swore amid tears and kisses, never to 
 forsake his sweet wife, calling himself more happy than 
 the Greek Pygmalion, whose beautiful statue received life 
 from Venus and became liis loved one. In endearing con- 
 fidence. Undine walked back to the cottage, leaning on his 
 arm ; feeling now for the first time, with all her heart, how 
 little she ought to regret the forsaken crystal palaces of her 
 mysterious father. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 HOW THE KNIGHT TOOK HIS YOUNG WIFE WITH HIM. 
 
 When Huldbrand awoke from his sleep on the follow- 
 ing morning, and missed his beautiful wife from his side, 
 he began to indulge again in the strange thoughts, that his 
 
UNDINE. 41 
 
 marriage and the charming Undine herself were but fleet- 
 ing and deceptive illusions. But at the same moment she 
 entered the room, sat down beside him, and said : " I have 
 been out rather early to see if my uncle keeps his word. 
 He has already led all the waters back again into his own 
 calm channel, and he now flows through the forest, soli- 
 tarily and dreamily as before. His friends in the water 
 and the air have also returned to repose ; all will again go 
 on quietly and regularly, and you can travel homeward 
 when you will, dry shod." It seemed to Huldbrand as 
 though he were in a waking dream, so little could he 
 reconcile himself to the strange relationship of his wife. 
 Nevertheless he made no remark on the matter, and the 
 exquisite grace of his bride soon lulled to rest every uneasy 
 misgiving. When he was afterward standing before the 
 door with her, and looking over the green peninsula with 
 its boundary of clear waters, he felt so happy in this 
 cradle of his love, that he exclaimed : "Why shall we 
 travel so soon as to-day ? We shall scarcely find more 
 pleasant days in the world yonder than those we have spent 
 in this quiet little shelter. Let us yet see the sun go do\s'n 
 here twice or thrice more." 
 
 "As my lord wills," replied Undine humbly. "It is 
 only that the old peo23le will, at all events, part from me 
 with pain, and when they now for th'e first time perceive 
 tlie true soul within me, and how I can now heartily love 
 and honor, their feeble eyes Avill be dimmed with plentiful 
 tears. At present they consider my quietness and gentle- 
 ness of no better promise than before, like the calmness of 
 the lake when the air is still ; and, as matters now are, they 
 will soon learn to cherish a flower or a tree as they have 
 cherished me. Do not, therefore, let me reveal to them 
 this newly-bestowed and loving heart, just at the moment 
 when they must lose it for this world ; and how could I 
 conceal it, if we remain longer together ? " 
 
48 USDTIfE. 
 
 Huldbrand conceded tlie point ; he went to the aged 
 people and talked with them over the journey, which he 
 proposed to undertake immediately. The holy father 
 offered to accompany the young married pair, and, after a 
 hasty farewell, he and the knight assisted the beautiful 
 bride to mount her horse, and walked with rajiid step by 
 her side over the dry channel of the forest-stream into the 
 wood beyond. Undine wept silently but bitterlj', and the 
 old people gave loud expression to their grief. It seemed 
 as if they had a presentiment of all they were now losing 
 in their foster-child. 
 
 The three travelers had reached in silence the densest 
 shades of the forest. It must have been a fair sight, under 
 that green canopy of leaves, to see Undine's lovely form, as 
 she sat on her noble and richly ornamented steed, with the 
 venerable priest in the white garb of his order on one side 
 of her, and on the other the blooming young knight in his 
 gay and splendid attire, with his sword at his girdle. 
 Huldbrand had no eyes but for his beautiful wife ; Undine, 
 who had dried her tears, had no eyes but for him, and they 
 soon fell into a mute, voiceless converse of glance and 
 gesture, from which they were only roused at length by the 
 low talking of the reverend father with a fourth traveler, 
 who in the mean while had joined them unobserved. 
 
 He wore a white garment almost resembling the dress of 
 the priest's order, except that his hood hung low over his 
 face, and his whole attire floated round him in such vast 
 folds that he was obliged every moment to gather it up, 
 and throw it over bis arm, or dispose of it in some way, and 
 yet it did not in the least seem to imj)ede his movements. 
 When the young couple first perceived him, he was just 
 saying : "And so, venerable sir, I have now dwelt for many 
 years here in the forest, and yet no one could call me a 
 hermit, in your sense of the word. For, as I said, I know 
 nothing of penance, and I do not think I have any special 
 
U:SfDmE. 49 
 
 need of it. I love tlie forest only for this reason, that its 
 beauty is quite peculiar to itself, and it amuses me to pass 
 along in my flowing white garments among the leaves and 
 dusky shadows, while now and then a sweet sunbeam shines 
 down unexpectedly upon me." ~ 
 
 " You are a very strange man," replied the priest, " and 
 I should like to be more closely acquainted with you." 
 
 " And to pass from one thing to another, who may you 
 be yourself ? " asked the stranger. 
 
 "I am called Father Ileilmann," said the holy man; 
 " and I come from the monastery of ' our Lady,' which lies 
 on the other side of the lake." 
 
 " Indeed," replied the stranger ; " my name is Ktihle- 
 born, and so far as courtesy is concerned, I might claim the 
 title of Lord of Kiihleborn, or free Lord of Kilhleborn ; 
 for I am as free as the birds in the forest and perhaps a 
 little more so. For example, I have now something to say 
 to the young lady tliere." And before they were aware of 
 his intention, he was at the other side of the priest, close 
 beside Undine, stretching himself up to whisper something 
 in her ear. 
 
 But she turned from him with alarm, and exclaimed : 
 " I have nothing more to do with you." 
 
 " Ho, ho," laughed the stranger, " what is this immensely 
 grand marriage you have made, that you don't know your 
 own relations any longer ? Have you forgotten your uncle 
 Kiihleborn, who so faithfully bore you on his back through 
 this region ? " 
 
 " I beg you, nevertheless," replied Undine, " not to appear 
 in my presence again. I am now afraid of you ; and sup- 
 pose my husband should learn to avoid me when he sees me 
 in such strange company' and with such relations ! " 
 
 " My little niece," said Kiihleborn, " you must not forget 
 that I am with you here as a guide ; the spirits of earth that 
 haunt this place might otherwise play some of their stupic] 
 
50 UNDINE. 
 
 pranks with you. Let me, therefore, go quietly on with 
 you ; tlie old priest there remembered me better than you 
 appear to have done, for he assured me just now that I 
 seemed familiar to him, and that I must have been with 
 him in the boat, out of which he fell into the water. I was 
 so, truly enough ; for I was the water-spout that carried him 
 out of it and washed him safely ashore for your wedding." 
 
 Undine and the knight turned toward Father Heilmann ; 
 but he seemed walking on, as in a sort of dream, and no 
 longer to be conscious of all that was passing. Undine then 
 said to Kiihleborn : " I see yonder the end of the forest. 
 We no longer need your help, and nothing causes us alarm 
 but yourself. I beg you, therefore, in all love and good 
 will, vanish, and let us proceed in peace." 
 
 Kiihleborn seemed to become angry at this ; his counte- 
 nance assumed a frightful expression, and he grinned 
 fiercely at Undine, who screamed aloud and called upon her 
 husband for assistance. As quick as lightning, the knight 
 sprang to the other side of the horse, and aimed his sharp 
 sword at KUhleborn's head. But the sword cut through a 
 waterfall, which was rushing down near them from a lofty 
 crag ; and with a splash, which almost sounded like a burst 
 of laughter, it poured over them and wet them through to 
 the skin. 
 
 The priest, as if suddenly awaking, exclaimed : " I have 
 long been expecting that, for the stream ran down from the 
 height so close to us. At first it really seemed to me like a 
 man, and as if it could speak." As the waterfall came 
 rushing down, it distinctly uttered these words in Iluld- 
 brand's ear : 
 
 Rasli knight, 
 Brave knight, 
 Rage, feel I not. 
 Chide, will I not. 
 But ever guard thy little wife as well. 
 Rash knight, hrave knight ! Protect her well ! 
 
UN DINK 51 
 
 A few footsteps more, and they were upon open ground. 
 The imperial city lay bright before them, and the evening 
 sun, which gilded its towers, kindly dried the garments of 
 the drenched wanderers. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 HOW THET LIVED IN THE CITT. 
 
 The sudden disappearance of the young knight, Huld- 
 brand von Ringstetten, from the imperial city, had caused 
 great sensation and solicitude among those who had ad- 
 mired him, both for his skill in the tournament and the 
 dance, and no less so for his gentle and agreeable manners. 
 His servants would not quit the place without their master, 
 although not one of them would have liad the courage to go 
 in quest of him into the shadowy recesses of the forest. 
 They therefore remained in their quarters, inactively hoping, 
 as men are wont to do, and keeping alive the remembrance 
 of their lost lord by their lamentations. When, soon after, 
 the violent storms and floods were observed, the less doubt 
 was entertained as to the certain destruction of the hand- 
 some stranger ; and Bertalda openly mourned for him and 
 blamed herself for having allured the unfortunate knight 
 into the forest. Her foster-parents, the duke and duchess, 
 had come to fetch her away, but Bertalda entreated them 
 to remain with her until certain intelligence had been ob- 
 tained of Huldbrand's fate. She endeavored to prevail 
 upon several young knights, who were eagerly courting her, 
 to follow the noble adventurer to the forest. But she 
 would not pledge her hand as a reward of the enterprise, 
 because she always cherished the hope of belonging to the 
 returning knight, and no glove, nor riband, nor even kiss, 
 would tempt any one to expose his life for the sake of 
 bringing back such a dangerous rival. 
 
 When Huldbrand now suddenly and unexpectedly ap- 
 
52 UNDINE. 
 
 peared, his servants, and the inhabitants of the city, and 
 almost every one, rejoiced. Bertalda alone refused to do 
 so ; for agreeable as it was to the others that he should 
 bring with him such a beautiful bride, and Father Ileil- 
 mann as a witness of the marriage, Bertalda could feel 
 nothing but grief and vexation. In the first place, she 
 had i-eally loved the young knight with all her heart, and 
 in the next, her sorrow at his absence had proclaimed tliis 
 far more before the eyes of all than was now befitting. 
 She still, however, conducted herself as a wise maiden, 
 reconciled herself to circumstances, and lived on the most 
 friendly terms with Undine, who was looked upon through- 
 out the city as a princess whom Iluldbrand had rescued 
 in the forest from some evil enchantment. When she or 
 her husband were questioned on the matter, they were wise 
 enough to be silent, or skillfully to evade the inquiries. 
 Father Heilraan's lips were sealed to idle gossip of any 
 kind, and moreover, immediately after Iluldbrand's arrival, 
 he had returned to his monastery ; so that peojsle were 
 obliged to be satisfied with their own strange conjectures, 
 and even Bertalda herself knew no more of the truth than 
 others. 
 
 Day by day, Undine felt her affection increase for the 
 fair maiden. " We must have known each other before," 
 she often used to say to her, " or else there must be some 
 mysterious connection between us, for one does not love 
 another as dearly as I have loved you, from the first mo- 
 ment of our meeting, without some cause — some deep and 
 secret cause." And Bertalda also could not deny the fact 
 that she felt drawn to Undine with a tender feeling of con- 
 fidence, however much she might consider that she had 
 cause for the bitterest lamentation at this successful rival. 
 Biased by this mutual affection, they both persuaded — the 
 one her foster-parents, the other her husband — to postpone 
 the day of departure from time to time ; indeed, it was even 
 
UNDmE. 53 
 
 proposed that Bertalda should accompany Undine for a 
 time to castle Ringstetten, near the source of the Danube. 
 
 They were talking over this plan one beautiful evening, 
 as they were walking by starlight in the large square of 
 the Imperial city, under the tall trees that inclose it. The 
 young married pair had invited Bertalda to join them in 
 their evening walk, and all three were strolling up and 
 down under the dark-bine sky, often interrupting their 
 familiar talk to admire the magnificent fountain in the 
 middle of the square, as its waters rnshed and bubbled 
 forth with wonderful beauty. It had a soothing, happy 
 influence upon them ; between the shadows of the trees 
 there stole glimmerings of light from the adjacent houses ; 
 a low murmur of children at play, and of others enjoying 
 their walk, floated around them ; they were so alone, and 
 yet in the midst of the bright and living world ; whatever 
 had appeared difficult by day, now became smooth as of 
 itself ; and the three friends could no longer understand 
 why the slightest hesitation had existed with regard to 
 Bertalda's visit to Ringstetten. Presently, just as they 
 were on the point of fixing the day for their common de- 
 parture, a tall man approached them from the middle of 
 the square, bowed respectfully to the company, and said 
 something in the ear of the young wife. Displeased as she 
 was at the interruption and its cause, slie stepped a little 
 aside with the stranger, and both began to whisper together, 
 as it seemed in a foreign tongue. Huldbrand fancied he 
 knew the strange man, and he stared so fixedly at him that he 
 neither heard nor answered Bertalda's astonished inquiries. 
 
 All at once Undine, clapping her hands joyfully, and 
 laughing, quitted the stranger's side, who, shaking his 
 head, retired hastily and discontentedly, and vanished in 
 the fountain. Huldbrand now felt certain on the point, 
 but Bertalda asked : " And what did the master of the 
 fountain want with you, dear Undine ? " 
 
54 UNDINE. 
 
 The young wife laughed within herself, and replied : 
 " The day after to-morrow, my dear child, on the anniver- 
 sary of your name-day, you shall know it." And nothing 
 more would she disclose. She invited Bertalda, and sent 
 an invitation to her foster-parents, to dine with them on 
 the appointed day, and soon after they parted. 
 
 "Kiihleborn ? was it.Kiihleborn ? " said Huldbrand, with 
 a secret shudder, to his beautiful bride, when they had 
 taken leave of Bertalda, and were now going home through 
 the darkening streets. 
 
 " Yes, it was he," replied Undine ; " and he was going 
 to say all sorts of nonsensical things to me. But, in the 
 midst, quite contrary to his intention, he delighted me 
 with a most welcome jiiece of news. If you wish to hear 
 it at once, my dear lord and husband, you have but to com- 
 mand, and I will tell it you without reserve. But if you 
 would confer a real pleasure on your Undine, you will wait 
 till the day after to-morrow, and you will then have your 
 share, too, in the surprise." 
 
 The knight gladly complied with his wife's desire, which 
 had been ui-ged so sweetly, and as she fell asleep, she mur- 
 mured smilingly to herself : " Dear, dear Bertalda ! How 
 she will rejoice and be astonished at what her master of the 
 fountain told me ! " 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE AKNIVEESAET OP BEETALDa's NAME-DAY. 
 
 The company were sitting at dinner ; Bertalda, looking 
 like some goddess of spring with her flowers and jewels, 
 the presents of her foster-parents and friends, was placed 
 between Undine and Huldbrand. When the rich repast 
 was ended, and the last course had appeared, the doors were 
 left open, according to a good old German custom, that the 
 common people might look on and take part in the fes- 
 
UNBINB. 55 
 
 tivity of the nobles. Servants were carrying round cake 
 and wine among the spectators. Huldbrand and Bertalda 
 were waiting with secret impatience for the promised expla- 
 nation, and sat with their eyes fixed steadily on Undine. 
 But the beautiful wife still continued silent, and only kept 
 smiling to herself with secret and hearty satisfaction. All 
 who knew of the promise she had given, could see that she 
 was every moment on the point of betraying her happy 
 secret, and that it was with a sort of longing renunciation 
 that she withheld it, just as children sometimes delay the 
 enjoyment of their choicest morsels. Bertalda and Huld- 
 brand shared this delightful feeling, and expected with 
 fearful hope the tidings which were to fall from the lips of 
 Undine. Several of the company pressed Undine to sing. 
 The request seemed opportune, and, ordering her lute to be 
 brought, she sang the following words : 
 
 Bright opening day, 
 
 Wild flowers so gay, 
 
 Tall grasses their thirst that slake, 
 
 On the hanks of the billowy lake ! 
 
 What glimmers there so shining 
 The reedy growth entwining ? 
 Is it a blossom white as snow 
 Fallen from heav'n here below ? 
 
 It is an infant, frail and dear ! 
 With flowerets play in g in its dreams 
 And grasping morning's golden beams ; 
 Oh ! whence, sweet stranger, art thou here ? 
 From some far-off and unknown strand. 
 The lake has borne thee to this land. 
 
 Nay, grasp not, tender little one. 
 With thy tiny hand outspread ; 
 No hand will meet thy touch with love. 
 Mute is that flowery bed. 
 
C8 UNDINE. 
 
 The flowers can deck tliemselves so fair 
 And breathe forth fragrance blest, 
 Yet none can press thee to itself, 
 Like that f ar-oii mother's breast. 
 
 So early at the gate of life. 
 
 With smiles of heav'n on thy brow, 
 
 Thou hast the best of treasures lost, 
 
 Poor wandering child, nor know'st it now. 
 
 A noble duke comes riding by, 
 
 And near thee checks his courser's speed. 
 
 And full of ardent chivalry 
 
 He bears thee homo upon his steed. 
 
 Much, endless much, has been thy gain ! 
 Thou bloom 'st the fairest in the land ! 
 Yet ah ! the priceless joy of all, 
 Thou'st left upon an unknown strand. 
 
 Undine dropped her lute with a melancholy smile, and 
 the eyes of Bertalda's foster parents were filled with tears- 
 " Yes, so it was on the morning that I found you, my poor 
 sweet orphan," said the duke, deeply agitated ; " the beau- 
 tiful singer is certainly right ; we have not been able to 
 give you that ' priceless joy of all.' " 
 
 " But we must also hear how it fared with the poor 
 parents," said Undine, as she resumed her lute, and sang : 
 
 Thro' every chamber roams the mother, 
 Moves and searches everywhere. 
 Seeks, she scarce knows what, with sadness. 
 And finds an empty house is there. 
 
 An empty house ! Oh, word of sorrow. 
 To her who once had been so blest. 
 Who led her child about by day 
 And cradled it at night to rest. 
 
 The beech is growing green again, 
 The sunshine gilds its wonted spot, 
 
VJSDIjS^E. 57 
 
 But mothei', cease thy searching vain I 
 Thy little loved one cometh not. 
 
 And when the hreath of eve blows cool. 
 And father in his home appears, 
 The smile lie almost tries to wear 
 Is quenched at once by gushing tears. 
 
 Full well he knows that in his home 
 He naught can find but wild despair. 
 He hears the mother's grieved lament 
 And no bright infant greets him there. 
 
 " Oh ! for God's sake, Undine, where are my parents ? " 
 cried the weeping Bertalda ; "you surely know ; you have 
 discovered them, you wonderful being, for otherwise you 
 would not have thus torn my heart. Are they perhaps 
 already here ? Can it be ? " Her eye passed'quickly over 
 the brilliant company and lingered on a lady of high rank 
 who was sitting next her foster-father. Undine, however, 
 turned toward the door, while her eyes overflowed with the 
 Sweetest emotion. " Where are the poor waiting parents ? " 
 she inquired, and the old fisherman and his wife advanced 
 hesitatingly from the crowd of spectators. Their glance 
 rested inquiringly now on Undine, now on the beautiful 
 girl who was said to be their daughter. " It is she," said 
 the delighted benefactress, in a faltering tone, and the two 
 old people hung round the neck of their recovered child, 
 weeping and praising God. 
 
 But amazed and indignant, Bertalda tore herscK from 
 their embrace. Such a recognition was too much for this 
 proud mind, at a moment when she had surely imagined 
 that her former splendor would even be increased, and when 
 hope was deluding her with a vision of almost royal honors. 
 It seemed to her as if her rival had devised all this on pur- 
 pose signally to humble her before Huldbrand and the 
 whole world. She reviled Undine, she reviled the old 
 
58 UNDINE. 
 
 people, and bitter invectives, such as "deceiver" and 
 " bribed impostors," fell from lier lips. Then the old fish- 
 erman's wife said in a low voice to herself : "Ah me ! she 
 is become a wicked girl ; and yet I feel in my heart that 
 she is my child." 
 
 The old fisherman, however, had folded his hands, and 
 was praying silently that this might not be his daughter. 
 Undine, pale as death, turned with agitation from the 
 parents to Bertalda, and from Bertalda to the parents ; 
 suddenly cast down from that heaven of happiness of wliich 
 she had dreamed, and overwhelmed with a fear and a ter- 
 ror such as she had never known even in imagination. 
 " Have you a soul ? Have you really a soul, Bertalda ? " 
 she cried again and again to lier angry friend, as if forcibly 
 to rouse her to consciousness from some sudden delirium or 
 maddening nightmare. But when Bertalda only became 
 more and more eni'aged, when the repulsed parents began to 
 weep aloud, and the company, in eager dispute, were taking 
 different sides, she begged in such a dignified and serious 
 manner to be allowed to speak in this her husband's hall, 
 that all around were in a moment silenced. She then ad- 
 vanced to the upper end of the table, where Bertalda had 
 seated herself, and with a modest and yet proud air, while 
 every eye was fixed upon her, she spoke as follows : 
 
 "My friends, you look so angry and disturbed, and you 
 have interrupted my happy feast by your disputings. Ah ! 
 I knew nothing of your foolish habits and your heartless 
 mode of thinking, and I shall never all my life long become 
 accustomed to them. It is not my fault that this affair has 
 resulted in evil ; believe me, the fault is with yourselves 
 alone, little as it may appear to you to be so. I have 
 therefore but little to say to you, but one thing I must say, 
 I have spoken nothing but truth. I neither can nor will give 
 you proofs beyond my own assertion, but I will swear to the 
 truth of this. I received tliis information from the very per- 
 
UNDINE. 59 
 
 son who allured Bevtalda into the water, away from her 
 parents, and who afterward placed her on the green meadow 
 in the duke's path." 
 
 "She is an enchantress ! " cried Bertalda'; "a witch, who 
 lias intercourse with evil spirits. She acknowledges it 
 herself." 
 
 "I do not," said Undine, with a whole heaven of inno- 
 cence and confidence beaming in her eyes. "I am no 
 witch ; only look at me ! " 
 
 " She is false and boastful," inten-upted Bertalda, " and 
 she cannot prove that I am the child of these low people. 
 My noble parents, I beg you to take me from this company 
 and out of this city, where they are only bent on insulting 
 me." 
 
 But the aged and honorable duke remained unmoved, 
 and his wife said : " We must thoroughly examine how we 
 are to act. God forbid that we should move a step from 
 this hall until we have done so." 
 
 Then the old wife of the fisherman drew near, and 
 making a low reverence to the duchess, she said : "Noble, 
 God-fearing lady, you have opened my heart. I must tell 
 you, if this evil-disposed young lady is my daughter, she 
 has a mark like a violet between her shoulders, and another 
 like it on the instep of her left foot. If she would only go 
 out of the hall with me." 
 
 " I shall not uncover myself before the peasant woman ! " 
 exclaimed Bertalda, proudly turning her back on her. 
 
 " But before me you will," rejoined the duchess, very 
 gravely. " Follow me into that room, girl, and the good 
 old woman shall come with us." The three disappeared, 
 and the rest of the company remained where they were, in 
 silent expectation. After a short time they returned ; 
 Bertalda was pale as death. " Right is right," said the 
 duchess ; " I must therefore declare that our hostess has 
 spoken perfect truth. Bertalda is the fisherman's daughter, 
 
00 UNDINK 
 
 and that is as much as it is necessary to inform you 
 here." 
 
 The princely pair left with their adopted daughter ; and 
 at a sign from the duke, the fisherman and his wife followed 
 them. The other guests retired in silence or with secret 
 murmurs, and Undine sank weejting into Huldbrand's 
 anas 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 HOW THET DEPABTED FEOM THE IMPEEIAL CITY. 
 
 The lord of Ringstetten would have certainly preferred 
 the events of this day to have been different ; but even as 
 they were, he could scarcely regret them wholly, as tliey 
 had exhibited his charming wife under such a good and 
 sweet and kindly aspect. " If I have given her a soul," he 
 could not help saying to himself, " I have indeed given her 
 a better one than my own " ; and his only thought now was 
 to speak soothingly to the weeping Undine, and on the 
 following morning to quit with her a place which, after 
 this incident, must have become distasteful to her. It is 
 true- that she was not estimated differently to what she had 
 been. As something mysterious had long been expected of 
 her, the strange discovery of Bertalda's origin had caused 
 no great surprise, and every one who had heard the story 
 and had seen Bertalda's violent behavior, was disgusted 
 with her alone. Of this, however, the knight and his lady 
 knew nothing as yet ; and, besides, the condemnation or 
 approval of the public was equally painful to Undine, and 
 thus there was no better course to pursue than to leave the 
 walls of the old city behind them with all the speed pos- 
 sible. 
 
 With the earliest beams of morning a pretty carriage 
 drove up to the entrance gate for Undine ; the horses which 
 Huldbrand and his squires were to ride stood near, pawing 
 
UNDINE. 61 
 
 the ground with impatient eagerness. Tlie knight was 
 leading his beautif id wife from the door, when a fisher-girl 
 crossed their way. " We do not need your fish," said Huld- 
 brand to her, " we are now starting on our journey." Upon 
 this the fislier-girl began to weep bitterly, and the young 
 couple perceived for the first time that it was Bertalda. 
 They immediately returned with her to their apartment, 
 and learned from her that the duke and duchess were so 
 displeased at her violent and unfeeling conduct on the pre- 
 ceding day, that they had entirely withdrawn their pro- 
 tection from her, though not without giving her a rich 
 portion. 
 
 The fisherman, too, had been liandsomely rewarded, and 
 had the evening before set out with his wife to return to 
 their secluded home. 
 
 " I would have gone with them," she continued, " but the 
 old fisherman, who is said to be my father " 
 
 "And he is so indeed, Bertalda," interrupted Undine. 
 " Look here, the stranger, whom you took for the master 
 of the fountain, told me the whole story in detail. He 
 w^ished to dissuade me from taking you with me to castle 
 Ringstetten, and this led him to disclose the secret." 
 
 " Well then," said Bertalda, " if it must be so, my father 
 said, ' I will not take you with me until you are changed. 
 Venture to come to us alone through the haunted forest ; 
 that shall be the proof whether you have any regard for us. 
 But do not come to me as a lady ; come only as a fisher- 
 girl ! ' So I will do just as he has told me, for I am forsaken 
 by the whole world, and I will live and die in solitude as a 
 poor fisher-girl, with my poor parents. I have a terrible 
 dread though of the forest. Plorrible specters are said to 
 dwell in it, and I am so fearful. But how can I help it ? I 
 only came here to implore pardon of the noble lady of 
 Ringstetten for my unbecoming behavior yesterday. I feel 
 sure, sweet lady, you meant to do me a kindness, but you 
 
62 TJNBINE. 
 
 knew not how you would wound me, and in my agony and 
 surprise m^any a rash and frantic expression passed my lips. 
 Oh, forgive, forgive ! I am already so unhappy. Only 
 think yourself what I was yesterday morning, yesterday at 
 the beginning of your banquet, and what I am now ! " 
 
 Her voice became stifled with a passionate flood of tears, 
 and Undine, also weeping' bitterly, fell on her neck. It « as 
 some time before the deeply agitated Undine could utter a 
 word ; at length she said : 
 
 " You can go with us to Ringstetten ; everything shall 
 remain as it was arranged before ; only do not speak to me 
 again as ' noble lady.' You see, we were changed for 
 each other as children ; our faces even then sprang as it 
 were from the same stem, and we will now so strengthen 
 this kindred destiny that no human power shall be able to 
 separate it. Only, first of all, come with us to Ringstetten. 
 We will discuss there how we shall share all things as 
 sisters." 
 
 Bertalda looked timidly toward Huldbrand. He pitied 
 the beautiful girl in her distress, and offering her his hand 
 he begged her tenderly to intrust herself with him and his 
 wife. " We will send a message to your parents," he con- 
 tinued, " to tell them why you are not come " ; and he would 
 have added more with regard to the worthy fisherman and 
 his wife, but he saw that Bertalda shrunk with pain from 
 the mention of their name, and he therefore refrained from 
 saying more. 
 
 He then assisted her first into the carriage, Undine fol- 
 lowed her ; and he mounted his horse and trotted merrily 
 by the side of them, urging the driver at the same time to 
 hasten his speed, so that veiy soon they were beyond the 
 confines of the imperial city and all its sad remembrances ; 
 and now the ladies began to enjoy the beautiful country 
 through which their road lay. 
 
 After a journey of some days, they arrived one exquisite 
 
UNDINE. 63 
 
 evening at castle Ringstetten. The young kniglit had 
 much to hear from -his overseers and vassals, so that Un- 
 dine and Bertalda were left alone. 
 
 They both repaired to the ramparts of the fortress, and 
 were delighted with the beautiful landscape which spread 
 far and Avide througli fertile Svvabia. 
 
 Presently a tall man approached them, greeting them 
 respectfully, and Bertalda fancied she saw a resemblance to 
 the master of the fountain in the imperial city. Still more 
 unmistakable grew the likeness, when Undine angrily and 
 almost threateningly waved him off, and he retreated with 
 hasty steps and shaking head, as he had done before, and 
 disappeared into a neighboring copse. Undine, however, 
 said, " Don't be afraid, dear Bertalda, this time the hate- 
 ful master of the fountain shall do you no harm." And 
 then she told her the whole story in detail, and who she 
 was herself, and how Bertalda had been taken away from 
 the fisherman and his wife, and Undine had gone to them. 
 The girl was at first terrified with this relation ; she 
 imagined her friend must be seized with sudden madness, 
 but she became more convinced that all was true, for Un- 
 dine's story was so connected, and fitted so well with former 
 occurrences, and still more she had that inward feeling with, 
 which truth never fails to make itself known to us. It 
 seemed strange to her that she was now herself living, as 
 it were in the midst of one of those fairy tales to which she 
 had formerly only listened. 
 
 She gazed upon Undine with reverence, but she could not 
 resist a sense of dread that seemed to come between her and 
 her friend, and at their evening repast she could not but 
 wonder how the knight could behave so lovingly and kindly 
 toward a being who appeared to her, since the discovery 
 she had just made, more of a phantom, than a human 
 being. 
 
64 UNDINE. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 HOW THEY LIVED AT CASTLE KINGSTBTTEN. 
 
 The writer of this story, botH because it moves Hs own 
 heart, and because he wishes it to move that of others, 
 begs you, dear reader, to pardon him, if he now briefly 
 passes over a considerable space of time, only cursorily 
 mentioning the events that marked it. He knows well 
 that he might jDortray skillfully, step by step, how Huld- 
 brand's heart began to turn from Undine to Bertalda ; how 
 Bertalda more and more responded with ardent affection to 
 the young knight, and how they both looked upon the poor 
 wife as a mysterious being rather to be feared than pitied ; 
 how Undine wept, and how her tears stung the knight's 
 heart with remorse without awakening his former love, so 
 that though he at times was kind and endearing to her, a 
 cold shudder would soon draw him from her, and he would 
 turn to his fellow-mortal, Bertalda. All this the writer 
 knows might be fully detailed, and perhaps ought to have 
 been so ; but such a task would have been too painful, for 
 similar things have been known to him by sad experience, 
 and he shrinks from their shadow even in remembrance. 
 You know probably a like feeling, dear reader, for such is 
 the lot of mortal man. Happy are you if you have received 
 rather than inflicted the pain, for in such things it is more 
 blessed to receive than to give. If it be so, such recollec- 
 tions wUl only bring a feeling of sorrow to your mind, and 
 perhaps a tear will trickle down your cheek over the faded 
 flowers that once caused you such delight. But let that be 
 enough. "We will not pierce our hearts with a thousand 
 separate things, but only briefly state, as I have just said, 
 how matters were. 
 
 Poor Undine was very sad, and the other two were not 
 to be called happy. Bertalda especially thought that she 
 
UNDINE. 05 
 
 could trace the effect of jealousy on the part of the injured 
 wife whenever her wishes were in any way thwarted hy 
 her. She had therefore habituated herself to an imperi- 
 ous demeanor, to which Undine yielded in sorrowful sub- 
 mission, and the now blinded Huldbrand usually encouraged 
 this arrogant behavior in the strongest manner. But the 
 circumstance that most of all disturbed the inmates of the 
 castle, was a variety of wonderful apparitions which met 
 Huldbrand and Bertalda in the vaulted galleries of the 
 castle, and which had never been heard of before as haunting 
 the locality. The tall white man in whom Huldbrand 
 recognized only too plainly Uncle Klihleborn, and Bertalda 
 the spectral master of the fountain, often passed before 
 tliem with a threatening aspect, and especially before Ber- 
 talda ; so much so, that she had already several times been 
 made ill with terror, and had frequently thought of quit- 
 ting the castle. But still she stayed there, partly because 
 Huldbrand was so dear to her, and she relied on her inno- 
 cence, no words of love having ever passed between them, 
 and partly also because she knew not whither to direct her 
 steps. The old fisherman, on receiving the message from 
 the lord of Ringstetten that Bertalda was his guest, had 
 written a few lines in an almost illegible hand, but as good 
 as his advanced age and long disuse would admit of. 
 
 " I have now become," he wrote, " a poor old widower, 
 for my dear and faithful wife is dead. However lonely I 
 now sit in my cottage, Bertalda is better with you than 
 with me. Only let her do nothing to harm my beloved 
 Undine ! She will have my curse if it be so." The last 
 words of -this letter, Bertalda flung to the winds, but she 
 carefully retained the part respecting her absence from her 
 father — just as we are all wont to do in similar circum- 
 stances. 
 
 One day, when Huldbrand had just ridden out. Undine 
 summoned together the domestics of the family, and 
 
66 UNDINE. 
 
 ordered them to bring a large stone, and carefully to cover 
 ■with it the magnificent fountain which stood in the middle 
 of the castle-yard. The servants objected that it would 
 oblige them to bring water from the valley below. Undine 
 smiled sadly. " I am sorry, my people," she replied, " to 
 increase your work. I would rather myself fetch up the 
 j)itcher8, but this fountain must be closed. Believe me 
 that it cannot be otherwise, and that it is only by so doing 
 that we can avoid a greater evil." 
 
 The whole household were glad to be able to please their 
 gentle mistress ; they made no further inquiry, but seized 
 the enormous stone. They were just raising it in their 
 hands, and were already poising it over the fountain, when 
 Bertalda came running up, and called out to them to stop, 
 as it was from this fountain that the water was brought 
 which was so good for her complexion, and she would never 
 consent to its being closed. Undine, however, although 
 gentle as usual, was more tlian usually firm. She told 
 Bertalda that it was her due, as mistress of the house, to 
 arrange her household as she thought best, and that, in 
 this, she was accountable to no one but her lord and hus- 
 band. " See, oh, pray see," exclaimed Bertalda, in an 
 angry, yet uneasy tone, "how the poor beautiful water is 
 curling and writhing at being shut out from the bright sun- 
 shine and from the cheerful sight of the human face, for 
 wliose mirror it was created ! " 
 
 The water in the fountain was indeed wonderfully 
 agitated and hissing ; it seemed as if something within 
 were struggling, to free itself, but Undine only the more 
 earnestly urged the fulfillment of her orders. The earnest- 
 ness was scarcely needed. Tlie servants of the castle were 
 as happy in obeying their gentle mistress as in opposing 
 Bertalda's haughty defiance ; and in spite of all the rude 
 scolding and threatening of the latter the stone was soon 
 firmly lying over the opening of the fountain. Undine 
 
UNDIWE. 67 
 
 leaned thoughtfully over it, and wrote with her beautiful 
 fingers on its surface. She must, however, have had some- 
 thing very shai'p and cutting in her hand, for when she 
 turned away, and the servants drew near to examine the 
 stone, they perceived various strange characters upon it, 
 which none of them had seen there before. 
 
 Bertalda received the knight, on his return home in the 
 evening, with tears and complaints of Undine's conduct. 
 He cast a serious look at his poor wife, and she looked down 
 as if distressed. Yet she said with great composure : "My 
 lord and husband does not reprove even a bondslave with- 
 out a hearing, how much less, then, his wedded wife ? " 
 
 " Speak," said the knight, with a gloomy countenance, 
 "what induced you to act so strangely ? " 
 
 "I sliould like to tell you when we are quite alone," 
 sighed Undine. 
 
 " You can tell me just as well in Bertalda's presence," 
 was the rejoinder. 
 
 " Yes, if you command me," said Undine ; " but command 
 it not. Oh pray, pray command it not ! " 
 
 She looked so humble, so sweet and obedient, that the 
 knight's heart felt a passing gleam from better times. He 
 kindly placed her arm within his own, and led her to his 
 apartment, when she began to speak as follows : 
 
 " You already know, my beloved lord, something of my 
 evil uncle, Kilhleborn, and you have frequently been dis- 
 pleased at meeting him in the galleries of this castle. He 
 has several times frightened Bertalda into illness. This is 
 because he is devoid of soul, a mere elemental mirror of 
 the outward world, without the power of reflecting the 
 world within. He sees, too, sometimes, that you are dis- 
 satisfied with me ; that I, in my childishness, am weeping 
 at this, and that Bertalda perhaps is at the very same 
 moment laughing. Hence he imagines various discrepancies 
 in our home life, and in many ways mixes unbidden with 
 
68 UNDINE. 
 
 our circle. What is the good of reproving him ? What is 
 the use of sending him angrily away ? He does not helieve 
 a word I say. His poor nature has no idea that the joys 
 and sorrows of love have so sweet a resemhlance, and are 
 so closely linked that no power can separate them. Amid 
 tears a smile shines forth, and a smile allures tears from 
 their secret chambers." 
 
 She looked up at Huldbrand, smiling and weeping ; and 
 he again experienced within his heart all the charm of his 
 old love. She felt this, and pressing him more tendei'ly to 
 hei', she continued amid tears of joy : 
 
 " As the disturber of our peace was not to be dismissed 
 with words, I have been obliged to shut the door upon him. 
 And the only door by which he obtains access to us is that 
 fountain. He is cut off by the adjacent valleys from the 
 other water-spirits in the neighborhood, and his kingdom 
 only commences further off on the Danube, into which 
 some of his good friends direct their course. For this 
 reason I had the stone placed over the opening of the foun- 
 tain, and I inscribed characters upon it which cripple all 
 my uncle's power, so that he can now neither intrude upon 
 you, nor upon me, nor upon Bertalda. Human beings, it is 
 true, can raise the stone again with ordinary effoit, in spite 
 of the characters inscribed on it. The inscription does not 
 hinder them. If you wish, therefore, follow Bertalda's 
 desire, but, truly, she knows not what she asks. The rude 
 Kiihleborn has set his mark especially upon her ; and if 
 much came to pass which he has predicted to me, and which 
 might, indeed, happen without your meaning any evil, ah ! 
 dear one, even you would then be exposed to danger ! " 
 
 Huldbrand felt deeply the generosity of his sweet wife, 
 in her eagerness to shut up her formidable protector, while 
 she had even been chided for it by Bertalda. He pressed 
 her in his arms with the utmost affection, and said with 
 emotion: "The stone shall remain, and all shall remain. 
 
UN DINK 69 
 
 now and ever, as you wish to have it, my sweet Un- 
 dine." 
 
 She caressed him with humble delight, as she heard the 
 expressions of love so long withheld, and then at length 
 she said : " My dearest husband, you are so gentle and kind 
 to-day, may I venture to ask a favor of you ! See now, it 
 is just the same with you as it is with summer. In the 
 height of its glory, summer puts on the flaming and 
 thundering crown of mighty storms, and assumes the air 
 of a king over the earth. You, too, sometimes, let your 
 fury rise, and your eyes flash and your voice is angry, and 
 this becomes you well, though I, in my folly, may sometimes 
 weep at it. But never, I pray you, behave thus toward me 
 on the water, or even when we are near it. You see, my 
 relatives would then acquire a right over me. They would 
 unrelentingly tear me from you in their rage ; because they 
 would imagine that one of their race was injured, and I 
 should be compelled all my life to dwell below in the crystal 
 palaces, and should never dare to ascend to you again ; or 
 they would send me up to you — and that, oh God, would 
 be infinitely worse. No, no, my beloved husband, do not 
 let it come to that, if your poor Undine is dear to you." 
 
 He promised solemnly to do as she desired, and they both 
 returned from the apartment, full of happiness and affection. 
 At that moment Bertalda appeared with some workmen, to 
 whom she had already given orders, and said in a sullen 
 tone, which she had assumed of late, " I suppose the secret 
 conference is at an end, and now the stone may be removed. 
 Go out, workmen, and attend to it." 
 
 But the knight, angry at her impertinence, desired, in 
 short and very decisive words, that the stone should be left ; 
 he reproved Bertalda, too, for her violence toward his wife. 
 Whereupon the workmen withdrew, smiling with secret 
 satisfaction ; while Bertalda, pale with rage, hunied away 
 to her room. 
 
10 UNBINE. 
 
 The hour for the evening repast arrived, and Bertalda 
 was waited for in vain. They sent after her, but the 
 domestic found her apartments empty, and only bi'ought 
 back with him a sealed letter addressed to the knight. He 
 opened it with alarm, and read : " I feel with shame that I 
 am only a poor fisher-girl. I will expiate my fault in hav- 
 ing forgotten this for a moment by going to the miserable 
 cottage of my parents. Farewell to you and your beautiful 
 wife." 
 
 Undine was heartilj' distressed. She earnestlj' entreated 
 Huldbrand to hasten after their friend and bring her back 
 again. Alas ! she had no need to urge him. His afifection 
 for Bertalda burst forth again with vehemence. He hurried 
 round the castle, inquiring if any one had seen which way 
 the fugitive had gone. He could learn nothing of her, and 
 he was already on his horse in the castle-yard, resolved at a 
 venture to take the road by Avhieh he had brought Bertalda 
 hither. Just then a page appeared, who assured him that 
 he had met the lady on the path to the Black Valley. Like 
 an arrow the knight sprang through the gateway in the 
 direction indicated, without hearing Undine's voice of 
 agony, as she called to him from the window : 
 
 " To the Black Valley ! Oh, not there ! Huldbrand, 
 don't go there ! or, for heaven's sake, take me with you ! " 
 But when she perceived that all her calling was in vain, she 
 ordered her white palfrey to be immediately saddled, and 
 rode after the knight, without allowing any servant to 
 accompany her. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 HOW BERTALDA EETUENED HOJIE WITH THE KNIGHT. 
 
 The Black Valley Ues deep within the mountains. What 
 it is now called, we do not know. At that time the people 
 of the country gave it this appellation on account of the 
 
UNDINE. 1\ 
 
 deep obscurity in which the low land lay, owing to the 
 shadows of the lofty trees, and especially firs, that grew 
 there. Even the brook which bubbled between the rocks 
 wore the same dark hue, and dashed along with none of 
 that gladness with which streams are wont to flow that 
 have the blue sky immediately above them. Now, in the 
 growing twilight of evening, it looked wild and gloomy 
 between the heights. The knight trotted anxiously along 
 the edge of the brook, fearful at one moment that by delay 
 he might allow the fugitive to advance too far, and at the 
 next that by too great rapidity he might overlook her in case 
 she were concealing herself from him. Meanwhile he had 
 already penetrated tolerably far into the valley, and might 
 soon hope to overtake the maiden, if he were on the right 
 track. The fear that this might not be the case made his 
 heart beat with anxiety. Where would the tender Ber- 
 talda tany through the stormy night, which was so fearful 
 in the valley, should he fail to find her ? At length he saw 
 something white gleaming through the branches on the 
 slope of the mountain. He thought he i-ecognized Ber- 
 talda's dress, and he turned his course in that direction. 
 But his horse refused to go forward ; it reared impatiently ; 
 and its master, unwilling to lose a moment, and seeing 
 moreover that the copse was impassable on horseback, dis- 
 mounted, and, fastening his snorting steed to an elm-tree, 
 he worked his way cautiously through the bushes. The 
 branches sprinkled his forehead and cheeks with the cold 
 drops of the evening dew ; a distant roll of thunder was 
 heard murmuring from the other side of the mountains ; 
 everything looked so strange that he began to feel a dread 
 of the white figure, which now lay only a short distance from 
 him on the ground. Still he could plainly see that it was a 
 female, either asleep or in a swoon, and that she was attired 
 in long white garments, such as Bertalda had worn on that 
 day. He stepped close up to her, made a rustling with the 
 
72 UNDINE. 
 
 branches, and let his sword clatter, but she moved not. 
 " Bertalda ! " he exclaimed, at first in a low voice, and then 
 louder and louder — still she heard not. At last, when he 
 uttered the dear name with a moi'e powerful effort, a hollow 
 echo from the mountain caverns of the valley indistinctly 
 reverberated " Bertalda ! " but still the sleeper woke not. 
 He bent down over her ; the gloom of the valley and the 
 obscurity of approaching night would not allow him to 
 distinguish her features. 
 
 Just as he was stooping closer over her, with a feeling of 
 painful doubt, a flash of lightning shot across the valley, 
 and he saw before him a frightfully distorted countenance, 
 and a hollow voice exclaimed : " Give me a kiss, you 
 enamored swain ! " 
 
 Huldbrand sprang up with a cry of horror, and the 
 hideous figure rose with him. " Go home ! " it murmured ; 
 "wizards are on the watch. Go home! or I will have 
 you! " and it stretched out its long white arms toward him. 
 
 " Malicious Kiihleborn ! " cried the knight, recovering 
 himself, " what do you concern me, you goblin ? There, 
 take your kiss ! " And he furiously hurled his sword at the 
 figure. But it vanished like vapor, and a gush of water 
 which wetted him through, left the knight no doubt as to 
 the foe with whom he had been engaged. 
 
 " He wishes to frighten me back from Bertalda," said he 
 aloud to himself ; " he thinks to terrify me with his foolish 
 tricks, and to make me give up the poor distressed girl to 
 him, so that he can wreak his vengeance on her. But he 
 shall not do that, weak spirit of the elements as he is. No 
 powerless phantom can understand what a human heart 
 can do when its best energies are aroused." Pie felt the 
 truth of his words, and that the very expression of them 
 had inspired his heart with fresli courage. It seemed, too, 
 as if fortune were on his side, for he had not reached his 
 fastened horse, when he distinctly heard Bertalda's plain- 
 
UNDINB. 73 
 
 tive voice not far distant, and could catcli her weeping ac- 
 cents through the ever increasing tumult of the thunder and 
 tempest. He hurried swiftly in the direction of the sound, 
 and found the trembling girl just attempting to climb the 
 steep, in order to escape in any way from the dreadful 
 gloom of the valley. He stepped, however, lovingly in her 
 path, and bold and proud as her resolve had before been, 
 slie now felt only too keenly the delight that the friend 
 whom she so passionately loved should rescue her from this 
 frightful solitude, and that the joyous life in the castle 
 should be again open to her. She followed almost unre- 
 sisting, but so exhausted with fatigue, that the knight was 
 glad to have brought her to his horse, which he now hastily 
 unfastened, in order to lift the fair fugitive upon it ; and 
 then, cautiously holding the reins, he hoped to proceed 
 through the uncertain shades of the valley. 
 
 But the horse had become quite unmanageable from the 
 wild apparition of Kuhleborn. Even the knight would 
 have had difficulty in mounting the rearing and snorting 
 animal, but to place the trembling Bertalda on its back was 
 perfectly impossible. They determined, therefore, to return 
 home on foot. Drawing the horse after him by the bridle, 
 the knight supported the tottering girl with his other hand. 
 Bertalda exerted all her strength to pass quickly through 
 the fearful valley, but weariness weiglied her down like 
 lead, and every limb trembled, partly from the terror she 
 had endured when Kuhleborn had pursued her, and partly 
 from her continued alarm at the howling of the storm and 
 the pealing of the thunder through the wooded mountain. 
 
 At last she slid from the supporting arm of her protector, 
 and sinking down on the moss, she exclaimed, "Let me 
 lie here, ray noble lord ; I suffer tlie punishment due to my 
 folly, and I must now perish here through weariness and 
 dread." 
 
 " ISo, sweet friend, I will never leave you ! " cried Huld- 
 
V4 UNDINM. 
 
 brand, vainly endeavoring to restrain his furious steed ; for, 
 worse than before, it now began to foam and rear with ex- 
 citement, until at last the knight was glad to keep the 
 animal at a sufficient distance from the exhausted maiden, 
 lest her fears should be increased. But scarcely had he 
 withdrawn a few paces with the wild steed than she began 
 to call after him in the most pitiful manner, believing that 
 he was really going to leave her in this horrible wilderness. 
 He was utterly at a loss what course to take. Gladly would 
 he have given the excited beast its liberty and have allowed 
 it to rush away into the night and spend its fury, had he 
 not feared that in this narrow defile it might come thunder- 
 ing with its iron-shod hoofs over the very spot where Ber- 
 talda lay. 
 
 In the midst of this extreme perplexity and distress, he 
 heard with delight the sound of a vehicle driving slowly 
 down the stony I'oad behind them. He called out for help ; 
 and a man's voice rej)lied, bidding him have patience, but 
 promising assistance ; and soon after, two gray horses ap- 
 peared through the bushes, and beside them the driver in 
 the white smock of a carter ; a great white linen cloth was 
 next visible, covering the goods apparently contained in the 
 wagon. At a loud shout from their master, the obedient 
 horses halted. The driver then came toward the knight, 
 and helped him in restraining his foaming animal. 
 
 " I see well," said he, " what ails the beast. When I first 
 traveled this way my horses were no better. The fact is, 
 there is an evil water-spirit haunting the place, and he takes 
 delight in this sort of mischief. But I have learned a cliarm ; 
 if you will let me whisper it in your horse's ear, he will 
 stand at once just as quiet as my gray beasts are doing 
 there." 
 
 " Try your luck, then, only help us quickly ! " exclaimed 
 the impatient knight. The wagoner then drew down the 
 head of the rearing charger close to his own, and whispered 
 
UNDINE. 15 
 
 something in his ear. In a moment the animal stood still 
 and quiet, and his quick panting and feeking condition was 
 all tliat remained of his previous unmanageableness. Huld- 
 brand had no time to inquire how all this had been effected. 
 He agreed with the carter that he should take Bertalda on 
 his wagon, where, as the man assured him, there were a 
 quantity of soft cotton-bales, upon which she could be con- 
 veyed to castle Ringstetten, and the knight was to accom- 
 pany them on horseback. But the horse appeared too much 
 exhausted by its past fury to be able to carry its master so 
 far, so the carter persuaded Huldbrand to get into the 
 wagon with Bertalda. The horse could be fastened on 
 behind. "We are going down hill," said he "and that 
 will make it light for my gray beasts." 
 
 The knight accepted the offer and entered the wagon 
 with Bertalda ; the horse followed patiently behind, and 
 the wagoner, steady and attentive, walked by the side. 
 
 In the stillness of the night, as its darkness deepened 
 and the subsiding tempest sounded more and more remote, 
 encouraged by the sense of security and their fortunate 
 escape, a confidential conversation arose between Huldbrand 
 and Bertalda. With flattering words he reproached her 
 for her daring flight ; she excused herself with humility 
 and emotion, and from every word she said a gleam shone 
 forth which disclosed distinctly to the lover that the 
 beloved was his. The knight felt the sense of her words 
 far more than he regarded their meaning, and it was the 
 sense alone to which he replied. Presently the wagoner 
 suddenly shouted with a loud voice : 
 
 " Up, my grays, up with your feet, keep together ! remem- 
 ber who you are ! " 
 
 The knight leaned out of the wagon and saw that the 
 horses were stepping into the midst of a foaming stream or 
 were already almost swimming, while the wheels of the 
 wagon were rushing round and gleaming like mill wheels. 
 
76 UNDINE. 
 
 and the -wagoner had got up in front, in consequence of the 
 increasing waters. 
 
 " What sort of a road is this ? It goes into the middle of 
 the stream," cried Huldbrand to his guide. 
 
 " Not at all, sir," returned the other, laughing, " it is 
 just the reverse, the stream goes into the very middle of our 
 road. Look round and see how everything is covered by 
 the -water." 
 
 The whole valley, indeed, -was suddenly filled vfiXh. the 
 surging flood, that visibly increased. " It is Kuhleborn, 
 the evil water-spirit, who wishes to drown us ! " exclaimed 
 the knight. " Have you no charm against him, my 
 friend ? " 
 
 " I know indeed of one," returned the wagoner, " but I 
 cannot and may not use it until you know who I am." 
 
 " Is this a time for riddles ? " cried the knight. " The 
 flood is ever rising higher, and what does it matter to me 
 to know who you are ? " 
 
 " It does matter to you, though," said the wagoner, " for 
 I am Kiihleborn." 
 
 So saying, he thrust his distorted face into the wagon 
 with a grin, but the wagon was a wagon no longer, the 
 horses were not horses — all was transformed to foam and 
 vanished in the hissing waves, and even the wagoner him- 
 self, rising as a gigantic billow, drew down the vainly 
 struggling horse beneath the waters, and then swelling 
 higher and higher, swept over the heads of the floating 
 pair, like some liquid tower, threatening to bury them irre- 
 coverably. 
 
 Just then the soft voice of Undine sounded through the 
 uproar, the moon emerged from the clouds, and by its 
 light Undine was seen on the heights above the valley. 
 Slie rebuked, she threatened the floods below ; the men- 
 acing, tower-like wave vanished, muttering and murmur- 
 ing, the waters flowed gently away in the moonlight, and 
 
UNDINE. 77 
 
 like a white dove. Undine flew down from the height, 
 seized the knight and Bertalda, and bore them with her to 
 a fresh, green, turfy spot on the hill, where with choice 
 refreshing restoratives, she dispelled their terrors and 
 weariness ; then she assisted Bertalda to mount the white 
 palfrey, on which she had herself ridden here, and thus all 
 three returned back to castle Ringstetten. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE JOURNEY TO VIENNA. 
 
 Ai'TEE this last adventure, they lived quietly and happily 
 at the castle. The knight more and more perceived the 
 heavenly goodness of his wife, which had been so nobly ex- 
 hibited by her pursuit and by her rescue of them in the 
 Black Valley, where Kuhleborn's power again commenced ; 
 Undine herself felt that peace and security, which is never 
 lacking to a mind so long as it is distinctly conscious of be- 
 ing on the right path, and besides, in the newly awakened 
 love and esteem of her husband, many a gleam of hope and 
 joy shone upon her. Bertalda, on the other hand, showed 
 herself grateful, humble, and timid, without regarding her 
 conduct as anything meritorious. Whenever Huldbrand 
 or Undine were about to give her any explanation regarding 
 the covering of the fountain or the adventure in the Black 
 Valley, she would earnestly entreat them to spare her the 
 recital, as she felt too much shame at the recollection of the 
 fountain, and too much fear at the remembrance of the 
 Black Valley. She learned therefore nothing further of 
 either. And for what end was such knowledge necessaiy? 
 Peace and joy had visibly taken up their abode in castle 
 Ringstetten. They felt secure on this point, and imagined 
 that life could now produce nothing but pleasant flowers 
 and fruits. 
 
 In this happy condition of things, winter had come and 
 
78 UNDINE. 
 
 passed away, and spring with its fresh green shoots and its 
 blue sky was gladdening the joyous inmates of the castle. 
 Spring was in harmony with them, and they with spring. 
 What wonder then, that its storks and swallows inspired 
 them also with a desire to travel? One day when tliey 
 were taking a pleasant walk to one of the sources of the 
 Danube, Huldbrand spoke of the magnificence of the noble 
 river, and how it widened as it flowed through countries 
 fertilized by its waters, how the charming city of Vienna 
 shone forth on its banks, and how with every step of its 
 course it increased in power and loveliness. 
 
 " It must be glorious to go down the river as far as 
 Vienna ! " exclaimed Bertalda, but immediately relapsing 
 into her present modesty and humility, she paused and 
 blushed deeply. 
 
 This touched Undine deeply, and with the liveliest desire 
 to give pleasure to her friend, she said : " What hinders us 
 from starting on the little voyage ? " 
 
 Bertalda exhibited the greatest delight, and both she and 
 Undine began at once to picture the tour of the Danube in 
 the brightest colors. Huldbrand also gladly agreed to the 
 prospect; only he once whispered anxiously in Undine's ear: 
 
 " But Kiihleborn becomes possessed of his power again 
 out there ! " 
 
 "Let him come," she replied with a smile ; "I shall be 
 there, and he ventures upon none of his mischief before 
 me." The last impediment was thus removed ; they pre- 
 pared for the journey, and soon after set out upon it with 
 fresh spirits and the brightest hopes. 
 
 But wonder not, oh man, if events always turn out dif- 
 ferent to what we have intended. That malicious power, 
 lurking for our destruction, gladly lulls its chosen victim to 
 sleep with sweet songs and golden delusions ; while on the 
 other hand the rescuing messenger from Heaven often 
 knocks sharply and alarmingly at our door. 
 
UNDINE. '79 
 
 During tlie first few days of their voyage down the 
 Danube they were extremely happy. Everything grew 
 more and more beautiful as they sailtid further and further 
 down the proudly flowing stream. But in a region, other- 
 wise so pleasant, and in the enjoyment of which they had 
 promised themselves the purest delight, the ungovernable 
 Kuhleborn began, undisguisedly, to exhibit his power of 
 interference. This was indeed manifested in mere teasing 
 tricks, for Undine often rebuked the agitated waves or the 
 contrary winds, and then the violence of the enemy would 
 be immediately humbled ; but again the attacks would be 
 renewed, and again Undine's reproofs would become neces- 
 sary, so that the pleasure of the little party was completely 
 destroyed. The boatmen, too, were continually whispering 
 to each other in dismay, and looking with distrust at the 
 three strangers, whose servants even began more and more 
 to forebode sometliing uncomfortable, and to watcli their 
 superiors with suspicious glances. Huldbrand often said to 
 himself : " This comes from like not being linked with like, 
 from a man uniting himself with a mermaid ! " Excusing 
 himself, as we all love to do, he would often think indeed 
 as he said this : " I did not really know that she was a sea- 
 maiden ; mine is the misfortune, that ever^- step I take is 
 disturbed and haunted by the wild caprices of her race, but 
 mine is not the fault." By thoughts such as tliese, he felt 
 himself in some measure strengthened, but on the other 
 hand he felt increasing ill humor, and almost animosity 
 toward Undine. He would look at her with an expression 
 of anger, the meaning of which the poor wife understood 
 well. Wearied with this exhibition of displeasure, and ex- 
 hausted by the constant effort to frustrate Ktihleborn's 
 artifices, she sank one evening into a deep slumber, rocked 
 soothingly by the softly gliding bark. 
 
 Scarcely, however, had she closed her eyes, than every 
 one in the vessel imagined he saw, in whatever direction ho 
 
80 UNDINE. 
 
 turned, a most horrible human head ; it rose out of the 
 waves, not like that of a person swimming, but perfectly 
 perpendicular, as if invisibly supported upright on the 
 watery surface, and floating along in the same course with 
 the bark. Each wanted to point out to the other the cause 
 of his alarm, but each found the same expression of horror 
 depicted on the face of his neighbor, only tliat his hands 
 and eyes were directed to a different point whore the 
 monster, half -laughing and half-threatening, rose before 
 him. When, however, they all wished to make each other 
 understand what each saw, and all were crying out : " Look 
 there ! No, there ! " the horrible heads all at one and the 
 same time aj)peared to their view, and the whole river 
 around the vessel swarmed with the most hideous appari- 
 tions. The universal cry raised at the sight awoke Undine. 
 As she opened her eyes, the wild crowd of distorted visages 
 disappeared. But Huldbrand was indignant at such un- 
 sightly jugglery. He would have burst forth in uncon- 
 trolled imprecations had not Undine said to him with a 
 humble manner and a softly imploring tone : " For God's 
 sake, my husband, we are on the water, do not be angry 
 with me now." 
 
 The knight was silent, and sat down absorbed in reverie. 
 Undine whispered in his ear : " "Would it not be better, 
 my love, if we gave up this foolish journey, and returned 
 to castle Ringstetten in peace ? " 
 
 But Huldbrand murmured moodily : " So I must be a 
 prisoner in my own castle, and only be able to breathe so 
 long as the fountain is closed ! I would your mad kin- 
 dred " Undine lovingly pressed her fair hand upon his 
 
 lips. He paused, pondering in silence over much that Un- 
 dine had before said to him. 
 
 Bertalda had meanwhile given herself up to a variety of 
 strange thoughts. She knew a good deal of Undine's 
 origin, and yet not the whole, and the fearful Kuhlebora 
 
UNDINE. 81 
 
 especially had remained to her a terrible but wholly unre- 
 vealed mystery. She had indeed never even heard his 
 name. Musing on these strange things, she unclasped, 
 scarcely conscious of the act, a gold necklace, which Huld- 
 brand had lately purchased for her of a traveling trader ; 
 half dreamingly she drew it along the surface of the water, 
 enjoying the light glimmer it cast upon the evening-tinted 
 stream. Suddenly a huge hand was stretched out of the 
 Danube, it seized the necklace and vanished with it be- 
 neath the waters. Bertalda screamed aloud,. and a scorn- 
 ful laugh resounded from the depths of the stream. The 
 knight could now restrain his anger no longer. Starting up, 
 he inveighed against the river ; he cursed all who ventured 
 to interfere with his family and his life, and challenged 
 them, be they spirits or sirens, to show themselves before 
 his avenging sword. 
 
 Bertalda wept meanwhile for her lost ornament, which 
 was so precious to her, and her tears added fuel to the 
 flame of the knight's anger, while Undine held her hand 
 over the side of the vessel, dipping it into the water, softly 
 murmuring to herself, and only now and then inteiTupting 
 her strange mysterious whisper, as she entreated her hus- 
 band : " My dearly loved one, do not scold me here ; re- 
 prove others if you will, but not me here. You know 
 why ! " And indeed, he restrained the words of anger 
 that were trembling on his tongue. Presently in her wet 
 hand which she had been holding under the- waves, she 
 brought up a beautiful coral necklace of so much brilliancy 
 that the eyes of all were dazzled by it. 
 
 " Take this," said she, holding it out kindly to Bertalda ; 
 " I have ordered this to be brought for you as a compensa- 
 tion, and don't be grieved any more, my poor child." 
 
 But the knight sprang between them. He tore the 
 beautiful ornament from Undine's hand, hurled it again 
 into the river, exclaiming in passionate rage : " Have vou 
 
82 VNBINE. 
 
 then still a connection with them ? In the name of all the 
 witches, remain among them with your presents, and leave 
 us mortals in peace, you sorceress ! " 
 
 Poor Undine gazed at him with fixed but tearful eji^es, 
 her hand still stretched out, as when she had offered her 
 beautiful present so lovingly to Bertalda. She then began 
 to weep more and more violently, like a dear innocent child 
 bitterly aiflicted. At last, wearied out she said : " Alas, 
 sweet friend, alas ! They shall do you no harm ; only 
 remain true, so that I may be able to keep them from you. 
 I must, alas ! go away ; I must go hence at this early 
 stage of life. Oh woe, woe ! what have j'ou done ! Oh 
 woe, woe ! " 
 
 She vanished over the side of the vessel. Whether she 
 plunged into the stream, or flowed away with it, they knew 
 not ; her disappearance was like both and neither. Soon, 
 however, she was completely lost sight of in the Danube ; 
 only a few little waves kept whispering, as if sobbing, 
 round the boat, and they almost seemed to be saying : " Oh 
 woe, woe ! oh remain true ! oh woe ! " 
 
 Huldbrand lay on the deck of the vessel, bathed in hot 
 tears, and a deep swoon soon cast its veil of forgetfulness 
 over the unhappy man. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 HOW IT FARED FUETHEE WITH HULDBEAND. 
 
 Shall we say it is well or ill, that our sorrow is of such 
 short duration ? I mean that deep sorrow which affects 
 the very well-spring of our life, which becomes so one with 
 the lost objects of our love that they are no longer lost, 
 and which enshrines their image as a eacred treasure, until 
 that final goal is reached which they have reached before 
 us ! It is true that many men really maintain these sacred 
 ijiemories, but their feeling is no longer that of the first 
 
XINBINE. 83 
 
 deep grief. Other and new images liave thronged be- 
 tween ; we learn at length the transitoriness of all earthly 
 things, even to our grief, and, therefore, I must say " Alas, 
 that our sorrow sliould be of such short duration ! " 
 
 The Lord of Ringstetten experienced this : whether for 
 his good, we shall hear in the sequel to this history. At 
 first he could do nothing but weep, and that as bitterly as 
 the poor gentle Undine had wept when he had torn from 
 her hand that brilliant ornament with which she had 
 wislied to set everything to rights. And then he would 
 stretch out his hand, as she had done, and would weep 
 again like her. He cherished the secret hope that he might 
 at length dissolve in tears ; and has not a similar hope 
 passed before the mind of many a one of us, with painful 
 pleasure, in moments o'f great alfiiction ? Bertalda wept 
 also, and they lived a long while quietly together at castle 
 Ringstetten, cherishing Undine's memory, and almost 
 wholly forgetful of their former attachment to each otiier. 
 And, therefore, the good Undine often visited Huldbrand 
 in his dreams ; caressing him tenderly and kindly, and then 
 going away, weeping silently, so that when he awoke he 
 often scarcely knew why his cheeks were so wet : whether 
 they had been bathed with her tears or merely with his own. 
 
 These dream-visions became, however, less frequent as 
 time passed on, and the grief of the knight was less acute ; 
 still he would probably have cherished no other wish than 
 thus to think calmly of Undine and to talk of her, had not 
 the old fisherman appeared one day unexpectedly at the 
 castle, and sternly insisted on Bertalda's returning with him 
 as his child. The news of Undine's disappearance had 
 reached him, and he had determined on no longer allowing 
 Bertalda to reside at tlie castle with the widowed knight. 
 
 "For," said he, "whether my daughter love me or no, 
 I do not care to know, but her honor is at stake, and where 
 that is concerned nothing else is to be thought of." 
 
84 VNDINB. 
 
 This idea of the old fisherman's, and the solitude which 
 tlireatened to overwhelm tlie knight in all tlie halls and 
 galleries of the desolate castle, after Bertalda's departure, 
 brought out the feelings that liad slumbered till now and 
 wliichliad been wholly forgotten in his sorrow for Undine ; 
 namely, Huldbrand's affection for the beautiful Berlalda. 
 The fisherman had many objections to raise against the 
 proposed marriage. Undine had been very dear to the old 
 fisherman, and he felt that no one really knew for certain 
 whether the dear lost one were actually dead. And if her 
 body were trulj'^ lying cold and stiff at the bottom of the 
 Danube, or had floated away with the current into the 
 ocean, even then Bertalda was in some measure to blame 
 for her death, and it was unfitting for her to step into the 
 place of the poor supplanted one. Yet the fisherman had 
 a strong regard for the knight also ; and the entreaties of 
 his daughter, who had become much more gentle and sub- 
 missive, and her tears for Undine, turned the scale, and he 
 must at length have given his consent, for he remained at 
 the castle without objection, and a messenger was dis- 
 patched to Father Heilmann, who had united Undine and 
 Huldbrand in happy days gone by, to bring him to the 
 castle for the second nuptials of the knight. 
 
 Tlie holy man, however, had scarcely read the letter from 
 the knight of Ringstetten, than he set out on his journey 
 to the castle, with far greater expedition tlian even tlie 
 messenger had used in going to him. Whenever his 
 breath failed in his rapid progress, or his aged limbs ached 
 with weariness, he would say to himself: "Perhaps the 
 evil may yet be prevented ; fail not, my tottering frame, 
 till you have reached the goal ! " And with renewed power 
 he would then press forward, aud go on and on without 
 rest or repose, until late one evening he entered the shady 
 court-yard of castle Ringstetten. 
 
 The betrothed pair were sitting side by side under the 
 
UNDINK 85 
 
 trees, and tlie old fisherman was near tlieni, absorbed in 
 thought. The moment they recognized Father Heilmann, 
 they sprang up, and pressed round him with warm welcome. 
 But he, without making much reply, begged Huldbrand to 
 go with him into the castle ; and when the latter looked 
 astonished, and hesitated to obey the grave summons, the 
 reverend father said to him : 
 
 " Why should I make any delay in wishing to speak to 
 you in private, ITerr von Ringstetten ? What I have to say 
 concerns Bertalda and the fisherman as much as yourself, 
 and what a man has to hear, he may prefer to hear as soon 
 as possible. Are you, then, so perfectly certain, Knight 
 Huldbrand, that your first wife is really dead? It scarcely 
 seems so to me. I will not indeed say anything of the 
 mysterious condition in which she may be existing, and I 
 know, too, nothing of it with certainty. But she was a 
 pious and faithful wife, that is beyond all doubt ; and for 
 a fortnight past she has stood at my bedside at night in my 
 dreams, wringing her tender hands in anguish and sighing 
 out: 'Oh, prevent him, good father! I am still living! 
 Oh, save his life ! save his soul ! ' I did not understand 
 what this nightly vision signified ; when presently your 
 messenger came, and I hurried hither, not to unite, but to 
 separate, what ought not to be joined together. Leave 
 her, Huldbrand ! Leave him, Bertalda ! He yet belongs 
 to another ; and do you not see grief for his lost wife still 
 written on his pale cheek ? No bridegroom looks thus, and 
 a voice tells me that if you do not leave him, you will never 
 be happy." 
 
 The three listeners felt in their innermost heart that 
 Father Heilmann spoke the truth, but they would not be- 
 lieve it. Even the old fisherman was now so infatuated 
 that he thought it could not be otherwise than they had 
 settled it in their discussions during the last few days. 
 They therefore all opposed the warnings of tiie priest 
 
86 UNDINE. 
 
 with a wild and gloomy rashness, until at length the holy 
 father quitted the castle with a sad heart, refusing to 
 accept even for a single night the shelter offered, or to 
 enjoy the refreshments brought him. Huldbrand, how- 
 ever, persuaded himself that the priest was full of whims 
 and fancies, and with dawn of day he sent for a father from 
 the nearest monastery, who, without hesitation, promised 
 to perform the ceremony in a few days. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE knight's DEEAM. 
 
 It was between night and dawn of day that the knight 
 was lying on his couch, half waking, half sleeping. 
 Whenever he was on the point of falling asleep a tei'ror 
 seemed to come upon liim and scare his rest away, for his 
 slumbers were haunted with specters. If he tried, how- 
 ever, to rouse himself in good earnest he felt fanned as by 
 tlie wings of a swan, and he heard the soft murmuring of 
 waters, until, soothed by the agreeable delusion, he sunk 
 back again into a half-conscious state. At length he must 
 have fallen sound asleep, for it seemed to him as if he were 
 lifted up ujjon the fluttering wings of the swans and borne 
 by tliem far over land and sea, while they sang to him 
 their sweetest music. " The music of the swan ! the music 
 of the swan ! " he kept saj'iug to himself ; " does it not 
 always portend death ? " But it had yet another meaning. 
 All at once he felt as if he were hovering over the Medi- 
 terranean Sea. A swan was singing musically in his ear 
 that this was the Mediterranean Sea. And while he was 
 looking down upon the waters below they became clear as 
 crystal, so that he could see through them to the bottom. 
 He was delighted at this, for he could see Undine sitting 
 beneath the crystal arch. It is true, she was weeping bit- 
 terly, and looking much sadder than in the happy days 
 
, UNDINE. 87 
 
 when they had lived together at the castle of Ringstetten, 
 especially at their commencement, and afterward also, 
 shortly before they had begun their unhappy Danube ex- 
 cursion. The knight could not help thinking upon all this 
 very fully and deeply, but it did not seem as if Undine per- 
 ceived him. 
 
 Meanwhile Kiilileborn had approached her, and was on 
 the point of reproving her for her weeping. But she drew 
 herself up, and looked at him with such a noble and com- 
 manding air that he almost shrunk back with fear. 
 "Although I live here beneath the watej-s," said she, " I 
 have yet brought down my soul with me ; and therefore I 
 may well weep, although you cannot divine what such 
 tears are. They too are blessed, for everything is blessed 
 to him in whom a true soul dwells." 
 
 lie shook his head incredulously, and said, after some 
 reflection : " And yet, niece, you are subject to the laws of 
 our element, and if he marries again and is unfaithful to 
 you, you are in duty bound to take away his life." 
 
 "He is a widower to this very hour," replied Undine, 
 " and his sad heart still holds me dear." 
 
 " He is, however, at the same time betrothed," laughed 
 Ktihleborn, with scorn ; " and let only a few days pass, and 
 the priest will have given the nuptial blessing, and then 
 you will have to go upon earth to accomplish the death of 
 him who has taken another to wife." 
 
 "That I cannot do," laughed Undine in return ; "I have 
 sealed up the fountain securely against myself and my 
 race." 
 
 " But suppose he should leave his castle," said Kiihle- 
 born, " or should have the fountain opened again ! for he 
 thinks little enough of these things." 
 
 " It is just for that reason," said Undine, still smiling 
 amid her tears, " it is just for that reason tliat he is now 
 hovering in spirit over the Mediterranean Sea, and is 
 
88 UNDINE. 
 
 dreaming of this conversation of ours as a warning. I 
 liave intentionally arranged it so." 
 
 Kiilileborn, furious with rage, looked up at the knight, 
 threatened, stamped with his feet, and then swift as an 
 arrow shot under the waves. It seemed as if he wore 
 swelling in his fury to the size of a whale. Again the 
 swans began to sing, to flap tlieir wings, and to fly. It 
 seemed to the knight as if he were soaring away over 
 mountains and streams, and that he at length reached the 
 castle Ringstettcn, and awoke on his couch. 
 
 lie did, in reality, awake upon his couch, and his squire 
 coming in at that moment informed him that Father Heil- 
 mann was still lingering in the neighborhood ; that he had 
 met him the night before in the forest, in a hut which he 
 had formed for himself of the branches of trees, and 
 covered with moss and brushwood. To the question what 
 he was doing here, since he would not give the nuptial 
 blessing, he had answered : " There are other blessings 
 besides those at the nuptial altar, and though I liave not 
 gone to the wedding, it may be that I shall be at another 
 solemn ceremony. We must be ready for all things. 
 Besides, marrying and moui'ning are not so unlike, and 
 every one not willfully blinded must see that well." 
 
 The knight placed various strange constructions upon 
 these words and upon his dream, but it is very difficult to 
 break off a thing which a man has once regarded as cer- 
 tain, and so everything remained as it had been arranged. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 HOW THE KNIGHT HULDBKAND IS MAEEIED. 
 
 If I were to tell you how the marriage feast passed at 
 castle Ringstetten, it would seem to you as if j^ou saw a 
 heap of bright and pleasant things, but a gloomy veil of 
 mourning spread over them all, the dark hue of which 
 
UNDINK 89 
 
 would make tlie splendor of the whole look less like happi- 
 ness than a mockery of the emptiness of all earthly joys. 
 It was not that any spectral apparitions disturbed the fes- 
 tive company, for we know that the castle had been secured 
 from the miscliief of the threatening water spirits. But 
 the knight and tlie fisherman and all the guests felt as if 
 the chief personage were still lacking at the feast, and that 
 this chief personage could be none other than the loved 
 and gentle Undine. Whenever a door opened, the eyes of 
 all were involuntarily turned in that direction, and if it 
 was nothing but the butler with new dishes, or tlie cup- 
 bearer with a flask of still richer wine, tliey would look 
 down again sadly, and the flashes of wit and merriment 
 which had passed to and fro, would be extinguished by sad 
 remembrances. The bride was the most thoughtless of all, 
 and therefore the most happy ; but even to her it some- 
 times seemed strange that she should be sitting at the head 
 of the table, wearing a green wreath and gold-embroidered 
 attire, while Undine was lying at the bottom of the Dan- 
 ube, a cold and stiff corpse, or floating away with the cur- 
 rent into the mighty ocean. For, ever since her father 
 had spoken of something of the sort, his words were ever 
 ringing in her ear, and this day especially they were not 
 , inclined to give place to other thoughts. 
 
 The company dispersed early in the evening, not broken 
 up by the bridegroom himself, but sadly and gloomily by 
 the joyless mood of the guests and their forebodings of 
 evil. Bertalda retired with her maidens, and the knight 
 with his attendants ; but at this mournful festival there 
 was no gay, laughing train of bridesmaids and bridesmen. 
 
 Bertalda wished to arouse more cheerful thoughts ; she 
 ordered a splendid ornament of jewels which Huldbrand 
 had given her, together with rich apparel and veils, to be 
 spread out before her, in order tliat from these latter she 
 might select the brightest and most beautiful for her morn- 
 
90 VNDINE. 
 
 ing attire. Her attendants were delighted at the oppor- 
 tunity of expressing their good wishes to their young mis- 
 tress, not failing at the same time to extol the beauty of 
 the bride in the most lively terms. They were more and 
 more absorbed in these considerations, till Bertalda at 
 length, looking in a mirror, said with a sigh : " Ah, but 
 don't you see plainly how freckled I am growing here at 
 the side of my neck ? " 
 
 They looked at her throat and found the fi-eckles, as 
 their fair mistress had said, but they called them beauty- 
 spots and mere tiny blemishes only, tending to enhance the 
 whiteness of her delicate skin. Bertalda shook her head 
 and asserted that a spot was always a defect. 
 
 "And I could remove them," she sighed at last, "only 
 the fonntain is closed from which I used to have that precious 
 and purifying water. Oh ! if I had but a flask of it to-day ! " 
 
 " Is that all ? " said an alert waiting-maid, laughing, as 
 she slipped from the apartment. 
 
 "She will not be mad," exclaimed Bertalda, in a pleased 
 and surprised tone, "she will not be so mad as to have the 
 stone removed from the fountain this very evening ! " At 
 the same moment they heard the men crossing the court- 
 yard, and could see from the window how the officious 
 waiting-woman was leading them straight up to the foun- 
 tain, and that they were carrjnng levers and other instru- 
 ments on their shoulders. "It is certainly my will," said 
 Bertalda, smiling, " if only it does not take too long." And 
 happy in the sense that a look from her now was able to 
 effect what had formerly been so painfully refused her, she 
 watched the progress of the work in the moonlit castle- 
 court. 
 
 The men raised the enormous stone with an effort ; now 
 and then indeed one of their number would sigh, as he 
 remembered that they were destroying the work of their 
 former beloved mistress. But the labor was far lighter 
 
UNDINE. 91 
 
 than they had imagined. It seemed as if a power witliin 
 the spring itself was aiding them in raising the stone. 
 
 " It is just," said the workmen to each other in astonish- 
 ment, " as if the water within had become a springing 
 fountain." And the stone rose higher and liiglier, and, 
 ahnost without the assistance of the worlcmen, it rolled 
 slowly down upon the pavement with a hollow sound. But 
 from the opening of the fountain there rose solemnly a 
 white column of water ; at first they imagined it had really 
 become a springing fountain, till they perceived that the 
 rising form was a pale female figure veiled in white. She 
 was weeping bitterly, raising her hands wailingly above her 
 head and wringing them, as she walked with a slow and 
 serious step to the castle-building. The servants fled from 
 the spring ; the bride, pale and stiff with horror, stood at 
 the window with her attendants. When the figure had now 
 come close beneath her room, it looked moaningly up to 
 her, and Bertalda thought she could recognize beneath the 
 veil the pale features of Undine. But the sorrowing form 
 passed on, sad, reluctant, and faltering, as if passing to 
 execution. 
 
 Bertalda screamed out that the knight was to be called, 
 but none of her maids ventured from the spot ; and even 
 the bride herself became m.ute, as if trembling at her own 
 voice. 
 
 While they were still standing fearfully at the window, 
 motionless as statues, the strange wanderer had reached the 
 castle, had passed up the well-known stairs, and through 
 the well-known halls, ever in silent tears. Alas ! how 
 differently had she once wandered through them ! 
 
 The knight, partly undressed, had already dismissed his 
 attendants, and in a mood of deep dejection he was stand- 
 ing before a large mirror ; a taper was burning dimly 
 beside him. There was a gentle tap at his door. Undine 
 used to tap thus when she wanted playfully to tease him. 
 
92 UNDINE. 
 
 " It is all fancy," said lie to himself ; " I must seek my 
 nuptial bed." 
 
 " So you must, but it must be a cold one ! " he heard a 
 tearful voice say from without, and then he saw in the 
 mirror his door opening slowly — slowly — and the white 
 figure entered, carefully closing it behind her. " They have 
 opened the spring," said she softly, " and now I am here, 
 and you must die." 
 
 He felt in his paralyzed heart that it could not be other- 
 wise, but covering his eyes with liis hands, he said: " Do 
 not make me mad with terror in my hour of death. If 
 you wear a hideous face behind that veil, do not raise it, 
 but take my life, and let me see you not." 
 
 " Alas ! " replied the figure, " will you then not look upon 
 me once more ? I am as fair as when you wooed me on the 
 promontory." 
 
 " Oh, if it wei"e so ! " sighed Huldbrand, " and if I might 
 die in your fond embrace ! " 
 
 " Most gladly, my loved one," said she ; and throwing 
 her veil back, her lovely face smiled forth divinely beauti- 
 ful. Trembling with love and with the approach of death, 
 she kissed him with a holy kiss ; but not relaxing her hold 
 she pressed him fervently to her, and as if she would weep 
 away her soul. Tears rushed into the knight's eyes, and 
 seemed to surge through his heaving breast, till at length 
 liis breathing ceased, and he fell softly back from the 
 beautiful arms of Undine, upon the pillows of his couch — 
 a corpse. 
 
 " I have wept him to death," said she to some servants 
 who met her in the ante-chamber ; and, passing through 
 the affrighted group, she went slowly out toward the 
 fountain. 
 
UNDINE. 93 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 HOW THE KNIGHT HULDBEAND WAS BUEIED. 
 
 Father Heilmann had returned to the castle as soon as 
 the death of the lord of Ringstetten had heen made known 
 in the neighborhood, and he appeared at the very same 
 moment that the monk who had married the unfortunate 
 couple was fleeing from the gates, overwhelmed with fear 
 and terror. 
 
 "It is well," replied Heilmann, when he was informed of 
 this ; " now my duties begin, and I need no associate." 
 
 Upon this he began to console the bride, now a widow, 
 small result as it produced upon her worldly thoughtless 
 mind. The old fisherman, on the other hand, although 
 heartily grieved, was far more resigned to the fate which 
 had befallen his daughter and son-in-law, and while Ber- 
 talda could not refrain from abusing Undine as a murderess 
 and sorceress, the old man calmly said : " It could not be 
 otherwise after all ; I see nothing in it but tlie judgment 
 of God, and no one's heart has been more deeply grieved 
 by Pluldbrand's death than that of her by whom it was 
 inflicted — the poor forsaken Undine ! " 
 
 At the same time he assisted in arranging the funeral 
 sok>ninities as befitted the rank of the deceased. 
 
 The knight was to be interred in the village church-yard, 
 which was filled with the graves of his ancestors. And 
 this church had been endowed with rich privileges and 
 gifts both by tliese ancestors and by himself. His shield 
 and helmet lay already on the coffin, to be lowered with it 
 into the grave, for Sir Huldbrand, of Ringstetten, had died 
 the last of his race ; the mourners began their sorrowful 
 march, singing requiems under the bright, calm canopy of 
 heaven ; Father Heilmann walked in advance, bearing a 
 high crucifix, and the inconsolable Bertalda followed, sup- 
 
84 UNDINE. 
 
 ported by her aged father. Suddenly, in the midst of the 
 black-robed attendants in the widow's train, a snow-white 
 figure was seen closely veiled, and wringing her hands with 
 fervent sorrow. Those near whom she moved felt a secret 
 dread, and retreated either backward or to the side, increas- 
 ing by their movements the alarm of the others near to 
 whom the white stranger was now advancing, and thus a 
 confusion in the funeral-train was well-nigh beginning. 
 Some of the military escort were so daring as to address 
 the figure, and to attempt to removeit from the procession ; 
 but she seemed to vanish from under their hands, and yet 
 was immediately seen advancing again amid the dismal 
 cortege with slow and solemn stejJ. At length, in con- 
 sequence of the continued shrinking of the attendants to 
 the right and to the left, she came close behind Bertalda. 
 The figure now moved so slowly that the widow did not 
 perceive it, and it walked meekly and humbly behind her 
 undisturbed. 
 
 This lasted till they came to the church-yard, where the 
 procession formed a circle round the open grave. Then 
 Bertalda saw her unbidden companion, and starting up half 
 in anger and half in terror, she commanded her to leave the 
 knight's last resting-place. The veiled figure, however, 
 gently shook her head in refusal, and raised her hands as 
 if in humble supplication to Bertalda, deeply agitating her 
 by the action, and recalling to her with tears how Undine 
 had so kindly wished to give her that coral necklace on the 
 Danube. Father Heilmann motioned with his hand and 
 commanded silence, as they were to pray in mute devotion 
 over the body, which they were now covering with the 
 earth. Bertalda knelt silently, and all knelt, even the 
 grave-diggers among the rest, when they had finished their 
 task. But when they rose again, the white stranger had 
 vanished ; on the spot where she had knelt there gushed 
 out of the turf a little silver spring, which rippled and 
 
UNDINE. 95 
 
 murmured away till it had almost entirely encircled the 
 knight's grave ; then it ran further and emptied itself into 
 a lake which lay by the side of the burial-place. Even to 
 this day the inhabitants of the village show the spring and 
 cherish the belief that it is the poor rejected Undine, who 
 in this manner still embraces her husband in her loving 
 arms. 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 A MILD summer evening was resting on the shores of 
 Malaga, awakening the guitar of many a merry singer 
 among the ships in the harbor and in the city houses, and 
 in many an ornamental garden villa. Emulating the voices 
 of the birds, the melodious tones greeted the refreshing 
 coolness, and floated like perfumed exhalations from 
 meadow and water, over the enchanting region. Some 
 troops of infantry who were on the shore, and who pur- 
 posed to spend the night there, that they might be ready 
 for embarkation early on the following morning, forgot, 
 amid the charms of the pleasant even-tide, that they ought 
 to devote these last few hours on European soil to ease and 
 slumber ; they began to sing military songs, to drink 
 to each other with their flasks filled to the brim with 
 the rich wine of Xeres, toasting to the long life of the 
 mighty Emperor Charles V, who was now besieging the 
 pirate-nest Tunis, and to whose assistance they were about 
 to sail. The merry soldiers were not all of one race. Only 
 two companies consisted of Spaniards ; the third was 
 formed of pure Germans, and now and then among the 
 various fellow combatants, the difference of manners and 
 language had given rise to much bantering. Now, how- 
 ever, the fellowship of the approaching sea voyage and of 
 the glorious perils to be shared, as well as the refreshing 
 feeling which the soft southern evening poured over soul 
 and sense, united the band of comrades in perfect and un- 
 
 97 
 
98 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 disturbed hamiony. The Gtermans tried to speak Castiliau, 
 and the Spaniards to speak German, without its occurring 
 to any one to make a fuss about the mistakes and confu- 
 sions that happened. They mutually helped each other, 
 thinking of nothing else but the good will of their com- 
 panions, each drawing near to his fellow by means of his 
 own language. 
 
 Somewhat apart from the merry tumult, a young Ger- 
 man captain. Sir Heimbert of Waldhausen, was reclining 
 under a cork tree, gazing earnestly up at the stars, appar- 
 ently in a very different mood to the fresh merry sociability 
 which his comrades knew and loved in him. Presently the 
 Spanish captain, Don Fadrique Mendez, approached him ; 
 he was a youth like the other, and was equally skilled in 
 martial exercises, but he was generally as austere and 
 thoughtful as Heimbert was cheerful and gentle. "Par- 
 don, seiior," began the solemn Spaniard, " if I disturb you 
 in your meditations. But as I have had the honor of often 
 seeing you as a courageous warrior and faithful brother in 
 arms in many a hot encounter, I would gladly solicit you 
 above all others to do me a knightly service, if it does not 
 interfere with your own plans and projects for this night." 
 
 "Dear sir," returned Heimbert courteously, "I have 
 certainly an affair of importance to attend to before sun- 
 rise, but till midnight I am perfectly free, and ready to 
 render you any assistance as a brother in arras." 
 
 "Enough," said Fadrique, "for at midnight the tones 
 must long have ceased with which I shall have taken fare- 
 well of the dearest being I have ever known in this my 
 native city. But that you may be as fully acquainted with 
 the whole affair, as behooves a noble companion, listen to 
 me attentively for a few moments. 
 
 " Some time before I left Malaga, to join the army of 
 our great emperor and to aid in spreading the glory of his 
 arms through Italy, I was devoted, after the fashion of 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 69 
 
 young knights, to the service of a beautiful girl in this 
 city, named Lucila. She had at that time scarcely reached 
 the period .which separates childhood from ripe maiden- 
 hood, and as I — a boy only just capable of bearing arms — 
 offered my homage with a child-like friendly feeling, it was 
 also received by my young mistress in a similar child-like 
 manner. I marched at length to Italy, and as you your- 
 self know, for we have been companions since then, I was 
 in many a hot fight, and in many an enchantingly alluring 
 region in that luxurious land. Amid all our changes, I 
 held unalterably within me the image of my gentle mis- 
 tress, never pausing in the honorable service I had vowed 
 to her, although I cannot conceal from you that in so doing 
 it was rather to fulfill the word I had pledged at my de- 
 parture, than from any impelling and immoderately ardent 
 feeling in my heart. When we returned to my native city 
 from our foreign wanderings, a few weeks ago, I found my 
 mistress married to a rich and noble knight residing here. 
 Fiercer far than love had been, was the jealousy — that al- 
 most almighty child of heaven and hell — which now 
 spurred me on to follow Lucila's steps, from her home to 
 the church, from thence to the house of a friend, from 
 thence again to her home or to some noble circle of knights 
 and ladies, and all this as unweariedly and as closely as 
 was possible. When I had at length assured myself that 
 no other young knight attended her, and that she devoted 
 herself entirely to the husband chosen for her by her 
 parents rather than desired by herself, I felt perfectly 
 satisfied, and I should not have troubled you at this mo- 
 ment, had not Lucila approached me the day before yester- 
 day, and whispered in my ear that I must not provoke her 
 husband, for he was very passionate and bold ; that not 
 the slightest danger threatened her in the matter, because 
 he loved and honored her above everything, but that his 
 wrath would vent itself all the more furiously upon me. 
 
100 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 You can readily understand, my noble comrade, that I 
 could not help proving my contempt of all personal danger, 
 by following Lucila more closely than ever, and singing 
 nightly serenades beneath her flower-decked windows, till 
 the morning star began to be reflected in the sea. This 
 very night Lucila's husband sets out at midnight for 
 Madrid, and from that hour I will in every way avoid the 
 street in which they live ; until then, however, as soon as 
 it is sufiiciently dark to be suitable for a serenade, I will 
 have love-romances unceasingly sung before his house. It is 
 true I have information that not only lie, but Lncila's broth- 
 ers' are ready to enter upon a quarrel with me, and it is for 
 tliis reason, seiior, that I have requested you to bear me 
 company with your good sword in this short expedition." 
 
 Heimbert seized the Spaniard's hand as a pledge of his 
 readiness, saying as he did so : " To show you, dear sir, 
 how gladly I will do what you desire of me, I will requite 
 j'oiir confidence with confidence, and will relate a little 
 incident which occurred to me in this city, and will beg 
 you, after midnight, also to render me a small service. My 
 story is short, and will not detain us longer than we must 
 wait, before the twilight has become deeper and more 
 gloomy. 
 
 " On the day after we arrived here, I amused myself 
 with walking in the beautiful gardens with which the 
 place abounds. I have now been long in these southern 
 lands, but I cannot but believe that the dreams which 
 transport me nightly back to ray German home, are the 
 cause for my feeling everything here so strange and aston- 
 ishing. At all events, every morning when I wake, I 
 wonder anew, as if I were only just arrived. So I was 
 walking then, like one infatuated, among the aloe-trees, 
 which were scattered among the laurels and oleanders. 
 Suddenly a cry sounded near me, and a slender girl, dressed 
 in white, fled into my arms fainting, while her companions 
 
THE TWO CAPTAIITS. 101 
 
 dispersed past us in every direction. A soldier can always 
 tolerably soon gather his senses together, and I speedily 
 perceived a furious bull was pursuing the beautiful maiden. 
 I threw her quickly over a thickly-planted hedge, and fol- 
 lowed her myself, upon which the beast, blind with rage, 
 passed us by, and I have heard no more of it since, except 
 tliat some young knights in an adjacent court-yard had 
 been making a trial with it previous to a bull-fight, and 
 that it was on this account that it had broken so furiously 
 through the gardens. 
 - " I was now standing quite alone, with the fainting lady 
 in my arms, and she was so wonderfully beautiful to look 
 at that I have never in my life felt happier than I then 
 did, and also never sadder. At last I laid her down on the 
 turf, and sprinkled her angelic brow with water from a 
 neighboring little fountain. And so she came to herself 
 again, and when she opened her bright and lovely eyes I 
 thought I could imagine how the glorified spirits must feel 
 in heaven. She thanked me with graceful and courteous 
 words, and called me her knight ; but in my state of en- 
 chantment I could not utter a syllable, and she must have 
 almost thought me dumb. At length my speech returned 
 and the prayer at once was breathed forth from my heart, 
 that the sweet lady would often again allow me to see her 
 in this garden ; for that in a few weeks the service of the 
 emperor would drive me into the burning land of Afric.n, 
 and that until then she should vouchsafe me the happiness 
 of beholding her. She looked at me half smiling, half 
 sadly, and said, 'Yes.' And she has kept her word and 
 has appeared almost daily, without our having yet spoken 
 much to each other. For although she has been some- 
 times quite alone, I could never begin any other topic but 
 that of the happiness of walking by her side. Often she 
 has sung to me, and I have sung to her also. When I told 
 her yesterday that our departure was so near, her heavenly 
 
102 TSS TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 eyes seemed to me suffused with tears. I must also have 
 looked sorrowful, for she said to me in a consoling tone : 
 ' Ob, pious, child-like warrior ! one may trust you as one 
 trusts an angel. After midnight, before the morning 
 dawn breaks for your departure, I give you leave to take 
 farewell of me in this very spot. If you could, however, 
 find a true and discreet comrade to watch the entrance 
 from the street, it would be well, for many a soldier may 
 be passing at that hour through the city on his way from 
 some farewell carouse.' Providence has now sent me such 
 a comrade, and at one o'clock I shall go joyfully to the 
 lovely maiden." 
 
 " I only wish the service on which you require me were 
 more rich in danger," rejoined Fadrique, " so that I might 
 better prove to you that I am yours with life and limb. 
 But come, noble brother, the hour for my adventure is 
 arrived." 
 
 And wrapped in their mantles, the youths walked hastily 
 toward the city ; Fadrique carrying his beautiful guitar 
 under his arm. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 The night-smelling flowers in Lucila's window were 
 already beginning to emit their refreshing perfume, when 
 Fadrique, leaning in the shadow of the angle of an old 
 church opposite, began to tune his guitar. Heimbert had 
 stationed himself not far from him, behind a pillar, his 
 drawn sword under liis mantle, and his clear blue eyes, like 
 two watching stars, looking calmly and penetrating around. 
 Fadrique sang : 
 
 Upon a meadow, green witli spring, 
 A little flower was blossoming. 
 With petals red and snowy white ; 
 To me a youth, my soul's delight 
 Within that blossom lay. 
 
THE TWO CAPTAim. 103 
 
 And I have loved my song to indite 
 And flattering homage pay. 
 
 Since then a wanderer I have teen. 
 And many a bloody strife have seen ; 
 
 And now returned, I see 
 The little floweret stands no more. 
 Upon the meadow as before ; 
 Transplanted by a gardener's care 
 And hedged by golden trellis there. 
 
 It is denied to me. 
 
 I grudge him not his trellised guard. 
 His bolts of iron strongly barred ; 
 Yet, wandering in the cool night air 
 
 I touch my zither's string. 
 And as afore, her beauties rare. 
 Her wondrous graces sing. 
 And e'en the gardener shall not dare 
 
 Kefuse the praise I bring. 
 
 " That depends, seiior," said a man, stepping close, and 
 as he thought unobserved before Fadrique ; but the latter 
 had already been informed of his approach by a sign from 
 his watchful friend, and he was therefore ready to answer 
 with the greater coolness : 
 
 " If you wish, senoi-, to commence a suit with my guitar, 
 she has, at all events, a tongue of steel which has already 
 on many occasions done her excellent service. With whom 
 is it your pleasure to speak, with the guitar or the advo- 
 cate ? " 
 
 While the stranger was silent from embarrassment, two 
 mantled figures had approached Heimbert and remained 
 standing a few steps from him, as if to cut off Fadrique's 
 flight, in case he intended to escape. " I believe, dear sirs," 
 said Heimbert, in a courteous tone, " we are here on the 
 same errand, namely to prevent any intrusion upon the con- 
 ference of yonder knights. At least, as far as I am con- 
 
104 TEE TWO CAPTAmS. 
 
 cerned, you may rely upon it that any one who attempts to 
 interfere in their affair will receive my dagger in his heart. 
 Be of good cheer, therefore, I think we shall both do our 
 duty." The two gentlemen bowed courteously and were 
 silent. 
 
 The quiet self-possession with which the two soldiers 
 carried on the whole affair was most embarrassing to their 
 three adversaries, and they were at a loss to know how they 
 should begin the dispute. At last Fadrique again touched 
 the strings of his guitar, and was preparing to begin an- 
 other song. This mark of contempt, and apparent disre- 
 gard of danger and hazard, so enraged Lucila's husband 
 (for it was he who had taken his stand by Don Fadrique), 
 that without further delay he drew his sword from his 
 sheath, and with a voice of suppressed rage, called out : 
 " Draw, or I shall stab you ! " 
 
 " Very gladly, seiior," replied Fadrique quietly. " You 
 need not threaten me ; you might as well hav« said so 
 calmly." And so saying, he placed his guitar carefully in 
 a niche in the church wall, seized his sword, and, bowing 
 gracefully to his opponent, the fight began. 
 
 At first the two figures by Ileimbert's side, who were 
 Lucila's brothers, remained quite quiet ; but when Fa- 
 drique began to get the better of their brother-in-law, they 
 appeared as if they intended to take part in the fight. 
 Heimbert therefore made his mighty sword gleam in the 
 moonlight, and said : " Dear sirs, you will not surely oblige 
 me to execute that of which I previously assured you ? I 
 pray you not to compel me to do so ; but if it cannot be 
 otherwise, I must honorably keep my word, you may rely 
 upon it." The two young men remained from that time 
 motionless, surprised both at the decision and at the true- 
 hearted friendliness that lay in Ileimbert's words. 
 
 Meanwhile Don Fadrique, although pressing hard upon 
 his adversary, had generously avoided wounding him, and 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 105 
 
 when at last by a dexterous movement he ■wrested his 
 sword from him, Lucila's husband, surprised at the unex- 
 pected advantage and in alarm at being thus disarmed, re- 
 treated a few steps. But Fadrique threw the weapon 
 adroitly into the air, and catching it again, near the point 
 of the blade, he said, as he gracefully presented the hilt to 
 his opponent: "Q^'ake it, senor, and I hope our affair of 
 honor is now settled, as you will grant, under these circum- 
 stances, that I am only here to show that I fear no sword- 
 thrust in the world. The bell of the old cathedi'al is now 
 ringing twelve o'clock, and I give you my word of honor 
 as a knight and a soldier that neither is Dona Lucila pleased 
 with my attentions, nor am I pleased with paying them ; 
 from henceforth, and where I to remain a hundred years in 
 Malaga, I would not continue to serenade her in this spot. 
 So proceed on your journej^, and God be with you." He 
 then once more greeted his conquered adversary with 
 serious and solemn courtesy, and withdrew. 
 
 Heimbert followed him, after having cordially shaken 
 hands with the two youths, saying : "No, dear young sirs, 
 do not let it ever again enter your heads to interfere in any 
 honorable contest. Do you understand me ?" 
 
 He soon overtook his companion, and walked on by his 
 side so full of ardent expectation, and with his heart beat- 
 ing so joyfully and yet so painf ullj'-, that he could not utter 
 a single word. Don Fadrique Mendez was also silent ; it 
 was not till Heimbert paused before an ornamented garden 
 gate, and pointed cheerfully to the pomegranate boughs, 
 richly laden with fruits, which overhung it, saying : "This 
 is the place, dear comrade," that the Spaniard appeared as 
 if about to ask a question, but turning quickly round, he 
 merely said : 
 
 " I am pledged to guard this entrance for you till dawn. 
 You have my word of honor for it." So saying, he began 
 walking to and fro before the gate with drawn sword, like 
 
106 mn TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 a sentinel, and Heimbert, trembling with joy, glided within 
 the gloomy and aromatic shrubbei'ies. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 He was not long in seeking the bright star, which he 
 indeed felt was destined henceforth to guide the course of 
 his whole life. The delicate form approached him not far 
 from, the entrance ; weeping softly, it seemed to him in the 
 light of the full moon which was just rising, and yet smil- 
 ing with such infinite grace that her tears were rather like 
 a pearly ornament than a veil of sorrow. In deep and in- 
 finite joy and sorrow the two lovers wandered silently to- 
 gether through the flowery groves ; now and then a branch 
 waving in the night air would touch the guitar on tlie lady's 
 arm, and it would bi'eathe forth a slight murmur wliicli 
 blended with the song of the nightingale, or the delicate 
 fingers of the girl would tremble over the strings and 
 awaken a few scattered chords, while the shooting stai-s 
 seemed as if following the tones of the instrument as they 
 died away. 
 
 Oh, truly happy was this night both to the youth and 
 the maiden, for no rash wish or impure desire passed even 
 fleetingly across their minds. They walked on side by side, 
 happy that Providence had allowed them this delight, and 
 so little desiring any other blessing that even the transi- 
 toriness of that they were now enjoying floated away into 
 the background of their thoughts. 
 
 In the middle of the beautiful garden there was a large 
 open lawn, ornamented with statues, and surrounding a 
 beautiful and splashing fountain. The two lovers sat down 
 on its brink, now gazing at the waters sparkling in the 
 moonlight and now delighted in the contemplation of 
 each other's beauty. The maiden touched her guitar, and 
 Heimbert, impelled by a feeling scarcely intelligible to 
 himself, sang the following words to it : 
 
TEE TWO CAPTAINS. 107 
 
 There is a sweet life linked with mine, 
 
 But I cannot tell its name ; 
 
 Oh ! -would it but to me consign, 
 
 The secret of that life divine. 
 
 That so my lips in whispers sweet 
 
 And gentle songs, might e'en repeat 
 
 All that my heart would fain proclaim. 
 
 He suddenly paused, and blushed deeply, fearing he had 
 been too bold. The lady blushed also, touched her guitar 
 strings with a half-abstracted air, and at last sang as if 
 dreamily : 
 
 By the spring where moonlight's gleams 
 
 O'er the sparkling waters pass. 
 Who is sitting hy the youth. 
 
 Singing on the soft green grass ? 
 Shall the maiden tell her name ? 
 
 When though all unknown it he. 
 Her heart is glowing with her shame. 
 
 And her cheeks burn anxiously 1 
 First, let the youthful knight be named. 
 'Tis he, that on that glorious day. 
 Fought in Castilia's proud array ; 
 'Tis he, the youth of sixteen years. 
 At Pavia, who his fortunes tried. 
 The Frenchman's fear, the Spaniard's pride. 
 Heimbert is the hero's name ; 
 Victorious in many a fight ! 
 And beside the valiant knight. 
 Sitting on the soft green grass. 
 Though her name her lips shall pass. 
 Dona Clara feels no shame. 
 
 " Oh ! " said Heimbert, blushing from another cause than 
 before, " Oh, Dona Clara, that affair at Pavia was nothing 
 but a merry and victorious tournament, and even if occa- 
 sionally since then I have been engaged in a tougher contest, 
 how have I ever merited as a reward the overwhelming 
 bliss I am now enjoying ! Now I know what your name is, 
 and I may in future address you by it, my angelic Dona 
 
108 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 Clara, my blessed and beautiful Dona Clara ! But tell me 
 now, who has given you such a favorable report of my 
 achievements, that I may ever regard him with grateful 
 affection ? " • 
 
 " Does the noble Heimbert of Waldhausen suppose," 
 rejoined Clara, " that the noble houses of Spain had none of 
 their sons where he stood in the battle ? You must have 
 surely seen them fighting by your side, and must I not have 
 heard of your glories through the lips of my own people ? " 
 
 The silvery tones of a little bell sounded just then from 
 a neigliboring palace, and Clara whispered : " It is time to 
 part. Adieu, my hero ! " And she smiled on the youth 
 through her gushing tears, and bent toward him, and he 
 almost fancied he felt a sweet kiss breathed from her lips. 
 When he fully recovered himself, Clara had disappeared, 
 the morning clouds were beginning to wear the rosy hue of 
 dawn, and Heimbert, with a heaven of love's proud happi- 
 ness in his heart, returned to his watchful friend at the 
 garden gate. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 " Halt ! " exclaimed Fadrique, as Heimbert appeared 
 from the garden, holding his drawn sword toward him 
 ready for attack. 
 
 " Stop, you're mistaken, my good comrade," said the Ger- 
 man, smiling ; " it is I whom you see before you." 
 
 " Do not imagine, Knight Heimbert of Waldhausen," 
 said Fadrique, " that I mistake you. But my promise is 
 discharged, my hour of guard has been honorably kept, 
 and now I beg you ■v^ithout further delay to prepare your- 
 self, and fight for your life until heart's blood has ceased 
 to flow through these veins. 
 
 " Good heavens ! " sighed Heimbert, " I have often heard 
 that in these southern lands there are witches who deprive 
 people of their senses by magic arts and incantations. But 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 109 
 
 I have never experienced anything of the sort until to-day. 
 Compose yourself, my dear good comrade, and go with me 
 back to the shore." 
 
 Fadrique laughed fiercely, and answered ; " Set aside 
 your silly delusion, and if you must have eveiything ex- 
 plained to you, word by word, in order to understand it, 
 know then, that the lady whom you came to meet in the 
 shrubbery of this, my garden, is Dona Clara Mendez, my 
 only sister. Quick, therefore, and without further pre- 
 amble, draw ! " 
 
 " God forbid !/' exclaimed the German, not touching his 
 weapon. " You shall be my brotlier-in-law, Fadrique, and 
 not my murderer, and still less will I be yours." Fadrique 
 only shook his head indignantly, and advanced toward his 
 comrade with measured steps for an encounter. Heimbert, 
 however, still remained immovable and said : " No, Fa- 
 drique, I cannot now or ever do you harm. For, besides 
 the love I bear your sister, it must certainly have been you 
 who has spoken to her so honorably of my military expe- 
 ditions in Italy." 
 
 " When I did so," replied Fadrique, in a fury, " I was a 
 fool. Out, dallying coward, out with your sword, or " 
 
 Before Fadrique had finished speaking, Heimbert, burn- 
 ing with indignation, exclaimed : " The devil himself could 
 not bear that ! " and drawing his sword from the scabbard, 
 the two young captains rushed fiercely and resolutely to 
 the attack. 
 
 Different, indeed, was this contest to that previously 
 fought by Fadrique with Lucila's husband. The two young 
 soldiers well understood their weapons, and strove with 
 each other with equal boldness, their swords flashing like 
 rays of light, as now this one, now that one, hurled a light- 
 ning thrust at his adversary, which was with similar speed 
 and dexterity turned aside. Firmly they pressed the left 
 foot, as if rooted in the ground, while the right advanced 
 
110 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 to tlie bold onset, arid then again they quickly retired to 
 the safer attitude of defense. From the self-possession and 
 the quiet, unremitting anger with which both the combat- 
 ants fought, it was evident that one of the two would find 
 his grave under the overhanging branches of the orange- 
 tree, which were now tinged with the red glow of morning, 
 and this would undoubtedly have been the case bad not 
 the report of a cannon from the harbor sounded through 
 the silence of the twilight. 
 
 The combatants paused, as if at some word of command to 
 be obeyed by both, and listened, counting to themselves ; 
 then, as each uttered the number thirty, a second gun was 
 heard. 
 
 " It is the signal for immediate embarkation, senor," said 
 Don Fadrique ; " we are now in the emperor's service, and 
 all dispute ceases which is not against the foes of Charles 
 the Fifth." 
 
 " Right," replied Heimbert ; " but when there is an end 
 of Tunis and the whole war, I shall demand satisfaction 
 for that ' dallying coward.' " 
 
 " And I for that intercourse with my sister," said Fadrique. 
 
 " Certainly," rejoined the other, and so saying, the two 
 captains hurried down to the strand, and arranged the 
 embarkation of the troops ; while the sun rising over the 
 sea, shone upon them both in the same vessel. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The voyagers had for some time to battle with contrary 
 winds, and when at length they came in sight of the coasts 
 of Barbary, the darkness of evening had closed so deeply 
 over the sea that no pilot in the little squadron ventured 
 to ride at anchor on the shallow shore. They cruised 
 about on the calm waters, waiting for the morning ; and 
 the soldiers, full of laudable ambition for combat, stood 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. HI 
 
 impatiently in crowds on the deck, sti'aining their longing 
 eyes to see the theater of their future deeds. 
 
 Meanwhile the heavy firing of besiegers and besieged 
 thundered unceasingly from the fortress of Goletta, and as 
 the night darkened the scene with massy clouds, the flames 
 of burning fragments became more visible, and the fiery 
 course of the red bullets was perceptible as they crossed 
 each other in their path, while their eflFects in fire and dev- 
 astation were fearful to behold. It was evident that the 
 Mussulmans had been attempting a sally, for a sharp fire 
 of musketry burst forth suddenly amid the roaring of the 
 cannon. The fight was approaching the trenches of the 
 Christians, and on board the vessels none were agreed 
 whether the besiegers were in danger or not. At length 
 they saw that the Turks were driven back into the fortress ; 
 the Christian army pursued them, and a shout was heard 
 from the Spanish camp as of one loud " Victory ! " and the 
 cry, " Goletta was taken ! " 
 
 How the troops on board the vessels — consisting of young 
 and courage-tried men — burned with ardor, and their 
 hearts beat at the glorious spectacle, need not be detailed 
 to those who carry a brave heart within their own bosoms, 
 and to all others any description would be lost. 
 
 Heimbert and Fadrique stood close to each other. " I 
 do not know," said the latter, speaking to himself, "but I 
 feel as if to-morrow I must plant my standard upon yon- 
 der height, which is now lighted up with the red glow of 
 the bullets and burning flames in Goletta." 
 
 " That is just what I feel ! " said Heimbert. 
 
 The two angry captains then relapsed into silence and 
 turned indignantly away. 
 
 The longed-for morning at length dawned, the vessels 
 approached the shore, and the landing of the troops began, 
 while an officer was at once dispatched to the camp to 
 announce the arrival of the re-enforcements to the mightv 
 
112 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 General Alba. The soldiers were hastily ranged on the 
 beach ; they put themselves and their weapons in order, and 
 were soon standing in battle array, ready for their great 
 leader. Clouds of dust rose" in the gray twilight, the re- 
 turning officer announced the approach of the general, and 
 as Alba signifies " morning " in the Castilian tongue, the 
 Spaniards raised a shout of rejoicing at the coincidence, 
 as at some favorable omen, for as the knightly train 
 approached, the first beams of the rising sun became 
 visible. 
 
 The grave and haggard form of the general was seen 
 mounted on a tall Andalusian charger of the deepest black. 
 Having galloped once up and down the lines, he stopped 
 his powerful horse in the middle, and looking along the 
 ranks with an air of grave satisfaction, he said : " You pass 
 muster well. That is well. I like it to be so. It is plain 
 to see that you are tried soldiers, in spite of your youth. 
 We will first hold a review, and then I will lead you to 
 something more agreeable." 
 
 So saying, he dismounted, and walking toward the right 
 wing, he began to inspect one troop after another in the 
 closest manner, with the captain of each company at his 
 side, that he might receive from him accurate account 
 upon the minutest particulars. Sometimes a cannon-ball 
 from the fortress would whiz over the heads of the men ; 
 then Alba would stand still, and cast a keen glance over 
 the soldiers before him. But when he saw that not an 
 eyelash moved, a smile of satisfaction passed over his 
 severe, pale face. 
 
 When he had inspected both divisions, he again mounted 
 his horse, and once more galloped into the middle. Then, 
 stroking his long beard, be said : " You are in good order, 
 soldiers, and therefore you shall take your part in this 
 glorious day, which is just dawning for oui" whole Chris- 
 tian armada. We will attack Barbarossa, soldiers. Do you 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 113 
 
 not already hear the drums and fifes in the camp? Do you 
 see him advancing yonder to meet the emperor ? That 
 side of his position is assigned to you ! " 
 
 " Yivat Carolus Quintus ! " resounded through the ranks. 
 
 Alba beckoned the captains to him, and assigned to each 
 his duty. He usually mingled German and Spanish troops 
 together in order to stimulate tlie courage of the combat- 
 ants still higher by emulation. So it happened, even now, 
 that Heimbert and Fadrique were commanded to storm the 
 very same height, which, now gleaming with the morning 
 light, they at once recognized as that which had shone out 
 so fiercely and full of promise the night before. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Theice had Fadrique and Heimbert almost forced their 
 way to a rampart in the fortifications, and thrice had they 
 been repulsed with their men into the valley below by the 
 fierce opposition of the Turks. The Mussulmans shouted 
 after the retreating foe, clashed their weapons with the 
 triumph of victory, and with a scornful laugh asked 
 whether they would not come up again to give heart and 
 brain to the scimitar and their limbs to the falling beams of 
 wood. The two captains, gnashing their teeth with fury, 
 arranged their ranks anew ; for after three vain assaults 
 tliey had to move closer together to fill the places of the 
 slain and the mortally wounded. Meanwhile a murmur 
 ran through the Christian army that a witch was fighting 
 among their foes and helping them to conquer. 
 
 Duke Alba rode to the point of attack and looked scru- 
 tinizingly at the breach they had made. " Not yet broken 
 through the enemy here," said he, shaking his head. " I 
 am surprised. From two such youths and such troops, I 
 should have expected it." 
 
 "Do you hear that? Do you hear that ?" exclaimed 
 
114 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 the two captains as tliey paced along their lines, repeating 
 the general's words. 
 
 The soldiers shouted loudly, and demanded to be once 
 more led against the enemy ; even those who were mortally 
 wounded shouted with a last effort, " Forward, comrades ! " 
 
 The great Alba at once sprang like an arrow from his 
 horse, wrested a partisan from the stiff hand of one of the 
 slain, and standing in front of the two companies, he cried, 
 " I will take pa^t in your glory. In the name of God and 
 the blessed Virgin, forward, my children ! " 
 
 And joyfully they rushed up the hill, every heart beat- 
 ing with confidence, while the war-cry was raised triumph- 
 antly ; some even began already to shout " Victory ! vic- 
 tory ! " and the Mussulmans paused and wavered. Sud- 
 denly, like the vision of an avenging angel, a maiden, 
 dressed in purple garments embroidered with gold, ap- 
 peared in the Turkish ranks, and those who were tei'rified 
 before, again shouted "Allah ! " calling at the same time, 
 " Zellnda ! Zelinda ! " The maiden, however, drew a small 
 box from under her arm, and opening it she breathed into 
 it, and hurled it down among the Christian troops. And 
 forth from the fatal chest there burst a whole fire of 
 rockets, grenades, and other fearful messengers of death. 
 The startled soldiers paused in their assault. " Forward ! " 
 cried Alba. " Forward ! " cried the two captains ; but a 
 flaming arrow just then fastened on the duke's plumed 
 hat and hissed and crackled round his head, so that the 
 general fell fainting down the height. Then the German 
 and Spanish infantry fled uncontrollably from the fearful 
 ascent. Again the storm had been repulsed. The Mussul- 
 mans shouted, and like a fatal star Zelinda's beauty shone 
 in the midst of the flying troops. 
 
 When Alba opened his ej^es, Heimbert was standing over 
 him, with his mantle, arm, and face scorched with the fire, 
 which he bad not only just extinguished on bis general's 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 115 
 
 head ; but by throwing himself over him he had saved him 
 from a second body of flame rolled down the height in the 
 same direction. The duke was thanking his youthful de- 
 liverer, when some soldiers came up, looking for him to 
 apprise him that the Saracen power was beginning an at- 
 tack on the opposite wing of the army. Without losing a 
 word. Alba threw himself on the first horse brought him, 
 and galloped away to the spot where the most threatening 
 danger summoned him. 
 
 Fadrique stood with his glowing eye fixed on the ram- 
 part, where the brilliant form of Zelinda might be seen, 
 with a two-edged spear, ready to be hurled, uplifted by her 
 snow-white arm, and raising her voice, now in encouraging 
 tones to the Mussulmans in Arabic, and again speaking 
 scornfully to the Christians in Spanish, At last Fadiique 
 exclaimed : "Oh, foolish being ! she thinks to daunt mo, 
 and yet she places herself before me, an alluring and irre- 
 sistible war-prize ! " 
 
 And as if magic wings had sprung from his shoulders, 
 he began to fly up the height wath such rapidity that Alba's 
 violent descent seemed but a lazy snail's pace. Before any 
 one was aware, he was already on the height, and wresting 
 spear and shield from the maiden, he had seized her in his 
 arms, and was attempting to bear her away, while Zelinda, 
 in, anxious despair, clung to the palisade with both her 
 hands. Her cry for help was unavailing, partly because 
 the Turks imagined that the magic power of the maiden 
 was annihilated by the almost equally wondrous deed of the 
 youth, and partly also because the faithful Ileimbert 
 quickly perceiving his comrade's daring feat, had led both 
 troops to a renewed attack, and now stood by his side on 
 the height, fighting hand to hand with the defenders. This 
 time the fury of the Mussulmans, weakened as they were 
 by superstition and surprise, could avail nothing against 
 the heroic advance of the Christian soldiers. The Span- 
 
116 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 iards and Germans speedily broke through the enemy, 
 assisted by the watcliful squadrons of their army. The 
 Mahometans fled with frightful howling, the battle with its 
 stream of victory rolled ever on, and the banner of the 
 holy German empire and that of the royal house of Castile 
 waved victorious over the glorious battle-field before the 
 walls of Tunis. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Is the confusion of the conquering and the conquered 
 Zelinda had wrested herself from Fadrique's arms, and bad 
 fled from him with such swiftness that, however mucli 
 love and desire might have given wings to his pursuit, slie 
 was soon out of sight in a spot so well known to her. All 
 the more vehement was the fury of the excited Spaniard 
 against the infidel foe. Wherever a little host made a 
 fresh stand to oppose the Christians, he would hasten for- 
 ward with the troops, who ranged themselves round hira, 
 resistless as he was, as round a banner of victory, while 
 Heimbert ever remained at his side like a faithful shield, 
 guarding off many a danger to which the youth, intoxi- 
 cated with rage and success, exposed himself without con- 
 sideration. The following day they heard of Barbarossa's 
 flight from the city, and the victorious troops advanced 
 without resistance through the gates of Tunis. Fadrique's 
 and Heimbert's companies were always together. 
 
 Thick clouds of smoke began to curl through the streets ; 
 the soldiers were obliged to shake off the glowing and dusty 
 flakes from their mantles and richly-plumed helmets, where 
 they often rested smoldering. " I trust the enemy in his 
 despair has not set fire to some magazine full of powder ! " 
 exclaimed the thoughtful Heimbert ; and Fadrique, show- 
 ing by a sign that he agreed with his surmise, hastened on 
 to the spot from whence the smoke proceeded, the troops 
 courageously pressing after him. 
 
THE TWO C APT Aim. H^ 
 
 Tlie sudden turn of a street brought tliem in view of a 
 magnificent palace, from tbe beautifully ornamented win- 
 dows of wbich tbe flames were emerging, looking like 
 torcbes of deatb in their fitful glow, and lighting up tbe 
 splendid building in tbe hour of its ruin in tbe grandest 
 manner, now illuminating this and now that part of tbe 
 gigantic structure, and then again relapsing into a fearful 
 darkness of smoke and vapor. 
 
 And like some faultless statue, tbe ornament of the whole 
 edifice, there stood Zelinda upon a high and giddy projec- 
 tion while the tongues of flame wreathed around her from 
 below, calling to her companions in tbe faith to help her in 
 saving the wisdom of centuries, which was preserved in 
 this building. The projection on which she stood began to 
 totter from the fervent beat raging beneath it, and a few 
 stones gave away ; Fadrique called with a voice full of 
 anguish to the endangered lady, and scarcely had she with- 
 drawn her foot from tbe spot when the stone on which she 
 had been standing broke away and came rattling down on 
 tbe pavement. Zelinda disappeared within the burning 
 jjalacc, and Fadrique rushed up its marble staircases ; 
 lieimbert, his faithful companion, following him. 
 
 Their hasty steps carried them through lofty resounding 
 balls ; the architecture over their heads was a maze of high 
 arches, and one chamber led into another ulmost like a 
 labyrinth. The walls displayed on all sides magnificent 
 shelves, in wbich were to be seen stored rolls of parchment, 
 papyrus, and palm-leaf, partly inscribed with the characters 
 of long-vanished centuries, and which were now to perish 
 themselves. For tbe flames were already crackling among 
 them, and stretching their sorpent-like and fiery heads from 
 one case of treasures to another ; while some Spanish 
 soldiers, barbarous in their fury and hoping for plunder, 
 and finding nothing but inscribed rolls within tbe gorgeous 
 building, passed from disappointment to rage, and aided 
 
118 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 the flames ; the moi-e so, as they regarded the inscriptions 
 as the work of evil magicians. Fadrique flew as in a dream 
 through the strange half -consumed halls,' ever calling 
 Zelinda ! thinking and regarding nothing but her enchant- 
 ing beauty. Long did Heimbert remain at his side, until 
 at length they both reached a cedar staircase leading to an 
 upper story ; here Fadrique paused to listen, and exclaming: 
 " She is speaking up there ! she is speaking loud ! she needs 
 my help ! " he dashed up the already burning steps. Heim- 
 bert hesitated a moment ; he saw the staircase already 
 tottering, and he thought to give a warning cry to his 
 companion ; but at the same moment the light ornamental 
 ascent gave way and burst into flames. He could just see 
 Fadrique clinging above to a brass grating, and swinging 
 himself up to it, but all means of following him were de- 
 stroyed. Quickly recollecting himself, Heimbert lost no time 
 in idly gazing, but hastened through the adjacent halls in 
 search of another flight of steps, which would lead him to 
 his vanished friend. 
 
 Meanwhile Fadrique, following the enchanting voice, had 
 reached a gallery in the midst of which, the floor having 
 fallen in, there was a fearful abyss of flames, though the 
 pillars on each side were still standing. Opposite to him 
 the youth perceived the longed-for maiden, clinging with 
 one hand to a pillar, while with the other she was threaten- 
 ing back some Spanish soldiers, who seemed i*eady at any 
 moment to seize her, and her delicate foot was already 
 hovering over the edge of the glowing ruins. For Fadrique 
 to go to her was impossible ; the breadth of the opening 
 rendered even a desperate leap unavailing. Trembling lest 
 his call might make the maiden precipitate herself into tlie 
 abyss, either in terror or despairing anger, he only softly 
 raised his voice and whispered as with a breath over the 
 flaming gulf : " Oh, Zelinda, Zelinda ! do not give way to 
 such frightful thoughts ! Your preseryer is here ! " The 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 119 
 
 maiden turned her queenly head, and when Fadriqiie saw 
 her calm and composed demeanor, he cried to the soldiers 
 on the otlier side with all the thunder of his warrior's 
 voice : " Back, ye insolent plunderers ! Whoever ad- 
 vances but one step to the lady shall feel the vengeance 
 of my arm ! " 
 
 They started and seemed on the point of withdrawing, 
 when one of their number said : " The knight cannot touch 
 us, the gulf between us is too broad for that. And as for 
 the lady's throwing herself down — it almost looks as if the 
 young knight were her lover, and whoever has a lover is 
 not likely to be so hasty about throwing herself down." 
 All laughed at this, and again advanced. Zelinda tottered 
 at the edge of the abyss. But with the courage of a lion 
 Fadrique had torn his target from his arm, and, hurling it 
 with his right hand, he flung it at the soldiers with such a 
 sure aim that the rash leader, struck on the head, fell 
 senseless to the ground ! The rest again stood still. 
 ■ " Away with you ! " cried Fadrique authoritatively, " or 
 my dagger shall strike the next as surel^', and then I swear 
 I will never rest till I have found out your whole gang and 
 appeased my rage." The dagger gleamed in the youtli's 
 hand, but yet more fearfully gleamed the fury in his eyes, 
 and the soldiers fled. Then Zelinda bowed gratefully to 
 her preservei', took up a roll of palm-leaves which lay at her 
 feet, and which must have previously slipped from her 
 hand, and then vanished hastilj' through a side-door of the 
 gallery. Henceforth Fadrique sought her in vain in the 
 burning palace. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 The great Alba held a council with his chief oflicers in 
 an open place in the middle of the conquered city, and by 
 means of interpreters sent question after question to the 
 Turkish prisoners as to the fate of the beautiful woman 
 
120 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 who liad been seen animating tliem on the ramparfs, and 
 who was certainly the most exquisite enchantress that liad 
 ever visited the earth. jSTothing very distinct was to be 
 gained from the answers, for although the interrogated all 
 knew of the beautiful Zelinda as a noble lady versed in 
 magic lore, and acknowledged by the whole people, they 
 were utterly unable to state from whence she had come to 
 Tunis and whither she had now fled. When at last they 
 began to threaten the prisoners as obstinate, an old dervish, 
 hitherto unnoticed, pressed forward, and said with a gloomy 
 smile : " Whoever has a desire to seek the lady, may set 
 out when he chooses. I will conceal nothing from him of 
 what I know of her direction, and I know something. But 
 I must first of all receive the promise that I shall not be 
 compelled to accompany as guide. My lips otherwise will 
 remain sealed forever, and you may do with me what you 
 will." 
 
 He looked like one who intended to keep his word, and 
 Alba, pleased with the firmness of the man, which harmo- 
 nized well with his own mind, gave him the desired assur- 
 ance, and the dervish began liis relation. He was once, lie 
 said, wandering in the almost infinite desert of Sahara, 
 impelled perhaps by rash curiosity, perhaps by higher mo- 
 tives ; he had lost his way there, and had at last, wearied 
 to death, reached one of those fertile islands of that sea of 
 sand which are called oases. Then followed, sparkling with 
 oriental vivacity, a description of the wonderful things seen 
 there, now filling the heaits of his hearers with sweet long- 
 ing, and then again making their hair stand on end with 
 horror, though from the strange pronunciation of the 
 speaker, and the flowing rapidity of his words, the half was 
 scarcely understood. The end of all this at length was, 
 that Zelinda dwelt on that oasis, in the midst of the path- 
 less sand-plains of the desert, surrounded by magic horrors ; 
 and also, as the dervish knew for certain, that she had 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 121 
 
 left about half an bour ago on licr way tliitlier. The 
 almost contemptuous words with which he concluded his 
 narration plainly showed that he desired nothing more 
 earnestly than to seduce some Christians to undertake a 
 journey which must terminate inevitably in their destruc- 
 tion. At the same time he added a solemn oath that every- 
 thing was truly as he had stated it, and he did tliis in a 
 firm and grave manner, as a man who knows that he 
 is speaking the most indubitable truth. Surprised and 
 thoughtful, the circle of officers held their council round him. 
 
 Then Heimbert stepped forward with an air as if of re- 
 quest ; he had just received a summons to leave the burn- 
 ing palace, where he had been seeking his friend, and had 
 been appointed to the place of council because it was neces- 
 sary to arrange the troops here in readiness for any possible 
 rising in the conquered city. "What do you wish, my 
 young hero ?" said Alba, recognizing him as he appeared. 
 " I know your smiling, blooming countenance well. You 
 were but lately sheltering me like a protecting angel. I 
 am so sure that you make no request but what is honorable 
 and knightly, that anything you may possibly desire is 
 granted beforehand." 
 
 " My great duke," replied Heimbert, with cheeks glowing 
 with pleasure, "if I may then venture to ask a favor, will 
 you grant me permission to follow the beautiful Zelinda at 
 once in the direction which this wonderful dervish lias 
 pointed out ? " 
 
 The great general bowed an assent, and added : "So 
 noble an adventure could not be consigned to a more noble 
 knight ! " 
 
 "I do not know that !" said an angry voice from the 
 throng. " But well do I know that to me above all others 
 this adventure belongs, even were it assigned as a reward 
 for the capture of Tunis. For who was the first on the 
 height and within the city ?" 
 
122 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 " That was Don Fadfique Mendez," said Heimbert, taking 
 the speaker by the hand, and leading him before the gen- 
 eral. "If I now for his sake must forfeit ray promised 
 reward, I must patiently submit ; for he has rendered better 
 service than I have done to the emperor and the army." 
 
 "Neither of you shall forfeit his reward," said the 
 great Alba. " Each has permission from this moment to 
 seek the maiden in whatever way it seems to him most 
 advisable." 
 
 And swift as lightning, the two young captains quitted 
 the circle of officers in opposite directions. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A SEA of sand, stretching out in the distant horizon, 
 without one object to mark its extensive surface, white and 
 desolate in its vastness — such is the scene which proclaims 
 the fearful desert of Sahara to the eye of the wanderer who 
 has lost himself in these frightful regions. In this also it 
 resembles the sea, that it casts up waves, and often a misty 
 vapor hangs over its surface. But there is not the soft 
 play of waves which unite all the coasts of the earth, each 
 wave as it rolls in bringing a message from the remotest 
 and fairest island kingdoms, and again rolling back, as it 
 were, with an answer, in a sort of love-flowing dance. No; 
 tliere is here only the melanclioly sporting of the hot wind 
 with faithless dust, which ever falls back again into its joy- 
 less basin, and never reaches the rest of the solid land with 
 its happy human dwellings. Tliere is here none of the 
 sweet cool sea breeze in which kindly fairies seem carrying 
 on their graceful sport, forming blooming gardens and pil- 
 lared palaces — there is only a suffocating vapor, rebeliously 
 given back to the glowing sun from the unfruitful sands. 
 
 Hither the two youths arrived at the same time, and 
 paused, gazing with dismay at the pathless chaos before 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 123 
 
 them. Zelinda's track, which was not easily hidden or lost, 
 had hitherto obliged them almost always to remain to- 
 gether — dissatisfied as Fadrique was at the circumstance, 
 and angry as were the glances he cast at his unwelcome 
 companion. Each had hoped to overtake Zelinda before 
 she had reached the desert, feeling how almost impossible 
 it would be to find her once she had entered it. That hope 
 was now at an end, and although in answer to the inquiries 
 they made in the Barbary villages on the frontier, they 
 heard that a wanderer going southward in the desert, and 
 guiding his course by the stars, would, according to tra- 
 dition, arrive at length at a wonderfully fertile oasis, 
 the abode of a divinely beautiful enchantress, yet every- 
 thing appeared highly uncertain and dispiriting, and was 
 rendered still more so by the avalanches of dust before the 
 traveler's view. 
 
 Tlie youths looked sadly at the prospect before them, 
 and their horses snorted and started back at the horrible 
 plain, as though it were some insidious quicksand, and even 
 the riders themselves were seized with doubt and dismay. 
 Suddenly they sprung from their saddles, as at some word 
 of command, unbridled their horses, loosened their girths, 
 and turned them loose on the desert, that they might find 
 their way back to some happier dwelling-place. Then tak- 
 ing some provision from their saddle-bags, they placed it 
 on their shoulders, and, casting aside their heavy riding 
 boots, they plunged like two courageous swimmers into 
 the trackless waste. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 With no other guide than the sun by day, and by night 
 the host of stars, the two captains soon lost sight of each 
 other, and all the sooner as Fadrique avoided intentionally 
 the object of his aversion. Heimbert, on the other hand, 
 bad no thought but the attainment of his aim, and full of 
 
124 THE TWO CAPTAIN'S. 
 
 joyful confidence in God's assistance lie pursued his course 
 in a soutlierly direction. 
 
 Many nights and many days had passed, when one even- 
 ing, as the twilight was coming on, Ileimbert was standing 
 alone in the endless desert unable to descry a single object 
 all round on which his eye could rest. His light flask was 
 empty, and the evening brought with it, instead of the 
 hoped-for coolness, a suffocating whirlwind of sand, so that 
 the exhausted wanderer was obliged to press his burning 
 face to the burning soil in order to escape in some measure 
 the fatal cloud. Now and then he heard something passing 
 him, or rustling over him as with the sound of a sweeping 
 mantle, and he would raise himself in anxious haste ; but 
 he only saw what he had already too often seen in the day- 
 time — the wild beasts of the wilderness roaming at liberty 
 through the desert waste. Sometimes it was an ugly 
 camel, then it was a long-necked and disproportioned gi- 
 raffe, and then again a long-legged ostrich hastening away 
 with its wings outspread. They all appeared to scorn him, 
 and he had already taken his resolve to open his eyes 
 no more, and to give himself up to his fate without allow- 
 ing these horrible and strange creatures to disturb his mind 
 in the hour of death. 
 
 Presently it seemed to him as if he heard the hoofs and 
 neighing of a horse, and suddenly something halted close 
 beside him, and he thought he caught the sound of a man's 
 voice. Half unwillingly, he could not resist raising him- 
 self wearily, and he saw before him a rider in an Arab's 
 dress mounted on a slender Arabian horse. Overcome with 
 joy at finding himself within reach of human help, he ex- 
 claimed : " Welcome, oh man, in this fearful solitude ! If 
 tiiou canst, succor me, thy fellow-man, who must otherwise 
 perish with thirst ! " Then remembering that the tones of 
 his dear German mother-tongue were not intelligible in this 
 joyless region, he repeated the same words in the mixed 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 125 
 
 dialect, generally called the Lingua Romana, universally 
 used by heathens, Molianitnedans, and Christians in those 
 parts of the world where they have most intercourse with 
 each other. 
 
 The Arab still remained silent, and looked as if scorn- 
 fully laughing at this strange discovery. At length he 
 replied in the same dialect :. " I was also in Barbarossa's 
 fight, and if, sir knight, our overthrow bitterly enraged me 
 tiien, I find no small compensation for it in the fact of see- 
 ing one of the conquerors lying so pitifully before me." 
 
 "Pitifully!" exclaimed Ileimbert angrily, and, his 
 wounded sense of honor giving him back for a moment 
 all his strength, he seized his sword and stood ready for 
 an encounter. 
 
 " Oho ! " laughed the Arab, " does the Christian viper 
 still hiss so strongly ? " Then it only behooves. me to put 
 spurs to my horse and leave thee to perish here, thou lost 
 creeping worm ! " 
 
 " Ride to the devil, thou dog of a heathen ! " retorted 
 Heirabert ; "rather than entreat a crumb of tliee, I will 
 die here, unless the good God sends me manna in the wil- 
 derness." 
 
 And the Arab spurred forward his swift steed, and gal- 
 loped away a couple of hundred paces, laughing with scorn. 
 Then he paused, and looking round to Heimbert, he trotted 
 back and said : " Thou seemest too good, methinks, to per- 
 ish here of hunger and thirst. Beware ! my good saber 
 shall touch thee." 
 
 Ileimbert, who had again stretched himself hopelessly on 
 the burning sand, was quickly roused to his feet by these 
 words, and seized his sword ; and sudden as was the spring 
 with which the Arab's horse flew toward him, the stout 
 German warrior stood ready to parry the blow, and the 
 thrust which the Arab aimed at him in the Mohammedan 
 manner, he warded off with certainty and skill. 
 
126 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 Again and again the Arab sprang similarly here and there, 
 vainly lioping to give his antagonist a death-blow. At last, 
 overcome by impatience, he approached so boldly that Heim- 
 bert, warding off the threatening weapon, had time to seize 
 the Arab by the girdle and drag him from the fast-gallop- 
 ing horse. The violence of the movement threw Heimbert 
 also on the ground, but he lay above his opponent, and hold- 
 ing close before his eyes a dagger, which he had dexter- 
 ously drawn from his girdle, he exclaimed : " Wilt thou 
 have mercy or death ? " 
 
 The Arab, trembling, cast down his eyes before the 
 gleaming and murderous weapon, and said : " Show mercy 
 to me, mighty warrior ; I surrender to thee." Heimbert 
 then ordered him to throw away the saber he still held in 
 his right hand. He did so, and both combatants rose, and 
 again sunk down upon the sand, for the victor was far 
 more weary than the vanquished. 
 
 The Arab's good horse meanwhile had trotted toward 
 them, according to the habit of those noble animals, who 
 never forsake their fallen master. It now stood behind the 
 two men, stretching out its long slender neck affection- 
 ately toward them. 
 
 "Arab," said Heimbert, with exhausted voice, "take 
 from thy horse what provision thou hast with thee, and 
 place it before me." 
 
 The vanquished man humbly did as he "was commanded, 
 now just as much submitting to the will of the conqueror 
 as he had before exhibited his animosity in anger and re- 
 venge. After a few draughts of palm-wine from the skin, 
 Heimbert looked at the youth under a new aspect ; he then 
 partook of some fruits, drank more of the palm-wine, and 
 at length said : " You are going to ride still further to- 
 night, young man ? " 
 
 " Yes, indeed," replied the Arab sadly ; "on a distant 
 oasis there dwells my aged father and my blooming bride. 
 
THE TWO CAPTAIN8. 127 
 
 Now — even if j^ou set me at full liberty — I must perish in 
 the heat of this barren desert for want of sustenance, be- 
 fore I can reach my lovely home." 
 
 " Is it, perhaps," asked Heimbert, " the oasis on which 
 the mighty enchantress, Zelinda, dwells?" 
 
 " Allah, protect me ! " cried the Arab, clasping his hands, 
 " Zelinda's wondrous isle offers no hospitable shelter to any 
 but magicians. It lies far away in the scorching south, 
 while our friendly oasis is toward the cooler west." 
 
 "I only asked in case we m^ight be traveling companions," 
 said Heimbert courteously. " If that cannot be, we must 
 certainly divide the provisions ; for I would not have 
 so brave a warrior as you perish with hunger and 
 thirst." 
 
 So saying, the young captain began to arrange the pro- 
 visions in two portions, placing the larger on his left, and 
 the smaller at his right ; he then desired the Arab to take 
 the former, and added to his astonished companion : " See, 
 good sir, I have either not much further to travel, or I shall 
 perish in the desert ; I feel that it will be so. Besides, I 
 cannot carry half so much on foot as you can on horse- 
 back." 
 
 " Knight ! victorious knight ! " cried the amazed Mussul- 
 man, "am I then to keep my horse ?" 
 
 " It were a sin and a shame, indeed," said Heimbert, 
 smiling, " to separate such a faithful steed from such a 
 skillful rider. Ride on in God's name, and get safely to 
 your people." 
 
 He then helped him to mount, and the Arab was on the 
 point of uttering a few words of gratitude, when he sud- 
 denly exclaimed, " The magic maiden ! " and swift as the 
 wind he flew over the dusty plain. Heimbert, however, 
 turning round, saw close beside him, in the now bright 
 moonlight, a shining figure, which he at once perceived to 
 be Zelinda. 
 
128 THE TWO CAPTAIN'S. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 The maiden looked fixedly at the young soldier, and 
 seemed considering with what words to address him, while 
 he, after his long search and now unexpected success, was 
 equally at a loss. At last she said, in Spanish, " Thou won- 
 derful enigma. I have been witness of all that has passed 
 between thee and the Arab ; and these affairs confuse my 
 head like a whirlwind. Speak therefore plainly, that I may 
 know whether thou art a madman or an angel ? " 
 
 " I am neither, dear lady," replied Ileimbert, with his 
 wonted friendliness. " I am only a poor wanderer, who 
 has just been putting into practice one of the commands of 
 his Master, Jesus Christ." 
 
 " Sit down," said Zelinda, " and tell me of thy Master ; 
 he must be himself unprecedented to have such a servant. 
 The night is cool and still, and at my side thou hast no 
 cause to fear the dangers of the desert." 
 
 " Lady," replied Heimbert, smiling, " I am not of a fear- 
 ful nature, and when I am speaking of my dear Saviour, 
 my mind is perfectly free from all alarm." 
 
 Thus saying, they both sat down on the jiow cooled sand, 
 and began a wondrous conversation, while the full moon 
 shone upon them from the deep-blue heavens above like a 
 magic lamp. 
 
 Heimbert's words, full of divine love, truth, and simpli- 
 city, sank like soft sunbeams, gently and surely, into 
 Zelinda's heart, driving away the mysterious magic power 
 which dwelt there, and wrestling for the dominion of the 
 noble territory of her soul. When morning began to 
 dawn, she said : " Thou wouldst not be called an angel last 
 evening, but thou art truly one. For what else are angels 
 than messengers of the Most High God ? " 
 
 " In that sense," rejoined Heimbert, " I am well satisfied 
 with the name, for I certainly hope that I am the bearer of 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 129 
 
 my Master's message. Yes, if He bestows on me further 
 grace and strength, it may even be tl)at you also may be- 
 come my companion in the pious work." 
 
 " It is not impossible," said Zelinda thoughtfully. " Thou 
 must, however, come with me to my island, and there thou 
 shalt be regaled as is befitting such an ambassador, far 
 better than here on the desolate sand, with the miserable 
 palm-wine that thou hast so laboriously obtained." 
 
 " Pardon me," replied Heimbert ; " it is difficult to me to 
 refuse the request of a lady, but on this occasion it cannot 
 be otherwise. In your island many glorious things have 
 been conjured together by your forbidden art, and many 
 lovely forms, which the good God has created, have been 
 transformed. These might dazzle my senses, and at last 
 delude them. If you will, therefore, hear the best and 
 purest things which I can relate to you, you must rather 
 come out to me on this desert sand. The palm-wine and 
 the dates of the Arab will suffice for me for many a day 
 to come." 
 
 "You would do better to come with me," said Zelinda, 
 shaking her head with somewhat of a scornful smile. 
 " You were certainly neither born nor brought up to be a 
 hermit, and there is notliing on my oasis so destructive as 
 you imagine. What is there more than shrubs and flowers 
 and beasts gathered together from different quarters of the 
 world, perhaps a little strangely interwoven ; each, that is 
 to say, partaking of the nature of the other, in a similar 
 manner to that which you must have seen in our Arabian 
 carving ! A moving flower, a bird growing on a branch, a 
 fountain gleaming with fiery sparks, a singing twig — these 
 are truly no hateful things." 
 
 "He must avoid temptation who does not wish to be 
 overcome by it,'' said Heimbert, very gravely. "I am for 
 the desert. Will it please j'ou to come out to visit me 
 again ? " 
 
130 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 Zelinda looked down somewhat displeased. Then sud- 
 denly bending her head still lower, she replied : " Yes ; 
 toward evening I shall he here again." And turning 
 away, she at once disappeared in the rising whirlwind of 
 the desert. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 With the evening twilight the lovely lady returned, and 
 spent the night in converse with the pious youth, leaving 
 him in the morning with her mind more humble, j^ure, and 
 devout ; and thus matters went on for many days. 
 
 " Thy palm-wine and thy dates must be coming to an 
 end," said Zelinda, one evening, as she prtsentod the youth 
 with a flask of rich wine and some costly fruits. 
 
 He, however, gently put aside the gift, and siiid : " Noble 
 lady, I would accept your gifts gladly, hut I fear some of 
 your magic arts may, perhaps, cleave to it. Or could you 
 assure me to the contrary by Him whom you are now 
 beginning to know ? " 
 
 Zelinda cast down her eyes in silent confusion, and took 
 her presents back. On the following evening, however, 
 she brought similar gifts, and smiling confidently gave the 
 desired assurance. Heimbert then partook of them with- 
 out hesitation, and from henceforth the disciple carefully 
 provided for thu sustenance of her teacher in the wilder- 
 ness. 
 
 And so, as the blessed knowledge of the truth sank more 
 and more deeply into Zelinda's soul, so that she was often 
 sitting till dawn before the youth, with cheeks glowing, 
 and hair dishevelled, her eyes beaming with delight, and 
 her hands folded, unable to withdraw herself from his 
 words ; he, on his part, endeavored to make her sensible, 
 at all times, that it was only Fadrique's love for her which 
 had urged him, his friend, into this fatal desert, and that 
 it was this same love that had thus become the means for 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 131 
 
 the attainment of her highest spii-itual good. She still 
 well remembered the handsome and terrible captain, who 
 had stormed the height that he miglit clasp her in his 
 arms ; and she related to her friend how the same hero had 
 afterward saved her in the burning librarj% Heimbert, 
 too, had many pleasant things to tell of Fadriqne, of his 
 high knightly courage, of his grave and noble manners, 
 and of his love to Zelinda, which in the night after the 
 battle at Tunis was no longer concealed within his passion- 
 ate breast, but was betrayed to the young German in a 
 thousand unconscious expressions between sleeping and 
 waking. Divine truth and the image of her loving hero 
 both at once sunk deep within Zelinda's heart, and struck 
 root there with tender but indestructible power. Heim- 
 bert's presence, and the almost adoring admjration with 
 which his pupil regarded him, did not disturb these feel- 
 ings, for from the first moment his appearance had some- 
 thing in it so pure and heavenly that no thoughts of earthly 
 love intruded. When Heimbert was alone he would often 
 smile happily within himself, saying in his own beloved 
 German tongue : " It is, indeed, delightful that I am now 
 able consciously to do the same service for Fadrique as he 
 did for me, unconsciously, with his angelic sister." And 
 then he would sing some German song of Clara's grace 
 and beauty, the sound of which rang with strange sweet- 
 ness through the desert, while it happily beguiled his soli- 
 tary hours. 
 
 Once when Zelinda came in the evening twilight, grace- 
 fully bearing on her beautiful head a basket of provisions 
 for Heimbert, he smiled at her, and shook his head, say- 
 ing : " It is inconceivable to me, sweet maiden, why you 
 ever gave yourself the trouble of coming to me out here 
 in the deseit. You can indeed no longer find pleasure in 
 magic arts, since the spirit of truth and love dwells within 
 you. If you would only transform the oasis into the 
 
132 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 natural form in which the good God created it, I would 
 go there with you, and we should have far more time for 
 holy converse." 
 
 "Sir," replied Zelinda, "you speak truly. I too have 
 thought for some days of doing so, and the matter would 
 have been already set on foot, but a strange visitor fetters 
 my power. The dervish whom you saw in Tunis is with 
 me, and as in former times we have practiced many magic 
 tricks with each other, he would like again to play the old 
 game. He perceives the change in me, and on that 
 account urges me all the more vehemently and danger- 
 ously." 
 
 " He must either be driven away or converted," said 
 Heimbert, girding on his shoulder-belt more firmly, and 
 taking up his shield from the ground. " Have the good- 
 ness, dear maiden," he continued, " to lead me to your en- 
 chanted isle." 
 
 "You avoided it so before," said the astonished Zelinda, 
 " and it is still unchanged in its fantastic form." 
 
 " Formerly it would have been only inconsiderate curi- 
 osity to have ventured there," replied Heimbert. " You 
 came, too, out here to me, and that was better for us botli. 
 But now the old enemy might lay snares for the ruin of 
 all that the Lord has been working in you, and so it is a 
 knightly duty to go. • In God's name, then, to the work ! " 
 
 And they hastened forward together through the ever- 
 increasing darkness of the plain, on their way to the 
 blooming island. 
 
 CHAPTER Xni. 
 
 A CHARMING breeze began to cool the heated brows of 
 the travelers ; and the twinkling starlight revealed in the 
 distance a grove waving to and fro with the gentle motion 
 of the air. Heimbert cast his eyes to the ground and 
 said : " Go before me, sweet maiden, and guide my path 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 133 
 
 to the spot where I shall find tliis threatening dervish. I 
 do not wish unnecessarily to see anything of these ensnar- 
 ing enchantments." 
 
 Zeliiida did as he desired, and the relation of the two 
 was for a moment changed ; the maiden had become the 
 guide, and Heimbert, full of confidence, allowed himself 
 to be led upon the unknown path. Branches were even 
 now toucliing his cheeks, half-caressingly and playfully ; 
 wonderful birds, growing out of bushes, sang joyful songs; 
 over the velvet turf, upon which Heimbert ever kept his 
 eyes fixed, there glided gleaming serpents, of green and 
 gold, with little golden crowns, and brilliant stones glit- 
 tered on the mossy carpet. When the serpents touched the 
 jewels, they gave forth a silvery sound. But Heimbert let 
 the serpents creep and the gems sparkle, without troubling 
 himself about them, intent alone on following the footsteps 
 of his guide. 
 
 " We are there ! " said she, with suppressed voice ; and 
 looking up, he saw a shining grotto of shells, within which 
 he perceived a man asleep clad in a golden scale-armor of 
 tlie old Nuraidian fashion. 
 
 "Is tliat also a phantom, there yonder, in the golden 
 scales?" inquired Heimbert, smiling ; but Zelinda looked 
 very grave, and replied : 
 
 " Oh, no ! that is the dervish himself, and his having 
 put on this coat of mail, which has been rendered invulner- 
 able by dragon's blood, is a proof that, by his magic, he 
 has become aware of our intention." 
 
 " What does that signify ? " said Heimbert. "He would 
 have to know it at last." And lie began at once to call out 
 with a cheerful voice : "Wake up, old sir, wake up ! Here 
 is an acquaintance of yours, who has matters upon which 
 he must speak to you." 
 
 And as the dervish opened his large rolling eyes, every- 
 thing in the magic grove began to move : the water began 
 
134 THM TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 to dance and the branches to intertwine in wild emulation, 
 and at the same time, the precious stones and the skellsaiid 
 corals emitted strange and confusing melodies. 
 
 " Roll and turn, thunder and play, as you like ! " exclaimed 
 Heimbert, looking fixedly at the maze around him ; " you 
 shall not divert me from my own good path, and Almighty 
 God has given me a good far-sounding soldier's voice, which 
 can make itself heard above all this tumult." Then, turn- 
 ing to the dervish, he said : " It appears, old man, that 
 you already know everything which has passed between 
 Zelinda and me. In case, however, that it is not so, I will 
 tell you briefly that she is already as good as a Christian, 
 and that she is the betrothed of a noble Spanish knight. 
 Place nothing in the way of her good intention ; I advise 
 you for your own sake. But still better for your own sake 
 would it be, if you would become a Christian yourself. 
 Discuss the matter with me, and first bid all this mad devil- 
 ish show to cease, for our religion, dear sir, speaks of far 
 too tender and divine things to be talked of with violence 
 or with the loud voice necessary on the field of war." 
 
 But the dervish, burning with hatred to the Christians, 
 had not waited to hear the knight's last words, when he 
 rushed at him with his drawn scimitar. Heimbert merely 
 parried his thrust, saying, " Take care of yourself, sir ! I 
 have heard something of your weapons being charmed, but 
 that will avail but little before my sword. It has been con- 
 secrated in holy places." 
 
 The dervish sprang wildly back before the sword, but 
 equally wildly did he spring to the other side of his adver- 
 sary, who only with difficulty caught the terrible cuts of 
 his weapon upon his shield. Like a gold-scaled dragon the 
 Mohammedan swung himself round his antagonist, with an 
 agility which, with his long flowing white beard, was ghostly 
 and horrible to witness. Heimbert was prepared to meet 
 him on all sides, ever keeping a watchful eye for some 
 
TEE TWO CAPTAINS. 135 
 
 opening in the scales made by the violence of his move- 
 ments. At last it happened as lie desired ; between the 
 arm and breast on the left side, the dark garments of the 
 dervish became visible, and quick as lightning the German 
 made a deadly thrust. The old man exclaimed aloud, 
 " Allah ! Allah ! " and fell forward, fearful even in his fall, 
 a senseless corpse. 
 
 " I pity him ! " sighed Heimbert, leaning on his sword 
 and looking down on his fallen foe. " He has fought nobly, 
 and even in death he called upon his Allah, whom he looked 
 upon as the true God. He must not lack honorable burial." 
 He then dug a grave with the broad scimitar of his adver- 
 sary, laid the corpse within it, covered it over with turf, 
 and knelt on the spot in silent, heart-felt prayer for the soul 
 of the departed. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Heimbeet rose from his pious duty, and his first glance 
 fell on Zelinda, who stood smiling by his side, and his 
 second, upon the wholly changed scene around. The rocky 
 cavern and grotto had disappeared, the distorted forms of 
 trees and beasts, half terrible and half charming as they 
 were, had vanished also ; a gentle grassy hill sloped down 
 on every side of the point where he stood, toward the sandy 
 waste ; springs gushed out here and there in refreshing 
 beauty ; date-trees bent over the little paths ; everything, 
 indeed, in the now opening day was full of sweet and simple 
 peace. 
 
 "Thank God ! " said Heimbert, turning to his companion, 
 " you can now surely feel how infinitely more lovely, grand 
 and beautiful is everything as our dear Father has created 
 it, than it can be when transformed by the highest human 
 art. The Heavenly Gardener has indeed permitted us, His 
 beloved children, in His abundant mercy, to help forward 
 His gracious works, that we may thus become happier and 
 
136 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 better ; but we must take care that we change nothing to 
 suit our own rash willful fancies ; else it is as if we were 
 expelling ourselves a second time from Paradise." 
 
 " It shall not happen again," said Zelinda humbly. 
 " But may you in this solitarj"- region, where we are not 
 likely to meet with any priest of our faitli, may you not 
 bestow on me, as one born anew, the blessing of holy 
 baptism ? " 
 
 Heimbert, after some consideration, replied : " I hope I 
 may do so. And if I am wrong, God will pardon me. It 
 is surely done in the desire to bring to Him so wortliy a 
 soul as soon as possible." 
 
 So they walked together, silently praying and full of 
 smiling happiness, down to one of the pleasant springs of 
 the oasis, and just as they reached the edge and prepared 
 themselves for the holy work, the sun rose before them as 
 if to confirm and strengthen their purpose, and the two 
 beaming countenances looked at each other with joy and 
 confidence. Heimbert had not thought of the Christian 
 name he should bestow on his disciple, but as he scooped up 
 the water, and the desert lay around him so solemn in the 
 rosy glow of morning, he remembered the pious hermit 
 Antony in his Egj'ptian solitude, and he baptized the lovely 
 convert, Antonia. 
 
 Tliej"- spent the day in holy conversation, and Antonia 
 showed her friend a little cave in which she had concealed 
 all sorts of store for her sustenance when she first dwelt on 
 the oasis. " For," said she, " the good God is my witness 
 that I came hither ov\\y that I might, in solitude, become 
 better acquainted with Him and His created works, without 
 knowing at that time in the least of any magic expedients. 
 Subsequently the dervish came, tempting me, and the lior- 
 ro'rs of the desert joined in a fearful league with his ter- 
 rible power, and then by degrees followed all that alluring 
 spirits showed me either in dreams or awake." 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 137 
 
 HeimLert had no scruple to take with him for the journey 
 any of the wine and fruits that were still fit for use, and 
 Antonia assured liim that by the direct way, well known to 
 her, they would reach the fruitful shore of this waterless 
 ocean in a few days. So with the approach of evening 
 coolness, they set out on their journey. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 The travelers had almost traversed the pathless plain, 
 when one day they saw a figure wandering in the distance, 
 for in the desolate Sahara every object is visible to the very 
 horizon, if the whirlwind of dust does not conceal it from 
 view. Tlie wanderer seemed doubtful of his course, some- 
 times taking this, sometimes that direction, and Antonia's 
 eastern falcon eye could discern that it was no Arab, but a 
 man in knightly garb. 
 
 " Oh, dear sister," exclaimed Heimbert, full of anxious 
 joy, " then it is our poor Fadrique, who is in search of thee. 
 For pity's sake, let us hasten before he loses us and perhaps 
 at last his own life also, in this immeasurable waste." 
 
 They strained every effort to reach tlie distant object, 
 but as it was now midday and the sun shone burningly 
 upon them, Antonia could not long endure this rapid prog- 
 ress ; added to which, the fearful whirlwind soon arose, 
 and the figure that had been scarcely visible before, faded 
 from their eyes, like some phantom of tlie mist in autumn. 
 
 With the rising moon, they began anew to hasten for- 
 ward, calling loudly upon the unfortunate wanderer, and 
 fluttering white handkerchiefs tied to tlieir walking-staffs, 
 as signal flags, but it was all in vain. The object that had 
 disappeared remained lost to view. Only a few giraffes 
 sprang shyly past them, and the ostriches quickened their 
 speed. 
 
 At length, as morning dawned, Antonia paused, and said ; 
 
138 THE TWO CAPTAmS. 
 
 "Thou canst not leave me, brother, in this solitude, and I 
 cannot go a single step further. God will protect the noble 
 Fadrique. How could a father forsake such a model of 
 knightly excellence ? " 
 
 " The disciple shames the teacher," replied Heimbert, 
 his sad face brightening into a smile. " We have done our 
 part, and we may confidently hope that God will corae to 
 the aid of our failing powers and do what is necessary." 
 As he spoke, he spread his mantle on the sand, that Anto- 
 nia might rest more comfortably. Suddenly looking up, 
 he exclaimed : " Oh, God ! yonder lies a man, completely 
 buried in the sand. Oh ! tliat he may not be already 
 dead ! » 
 
 He immediately began to sprinkle wine from the flask 
 he carried on the brow of the fainting traveler, and to chafe 
 his temples with it. 
 
 The man at last slowly opened his eyes and said : " I had 
 hoped the morning dew would not again have fallen on mo, 
 but that unknown and unlamented I might have perished 
 here in the desert, as must be the case in the end." So 
 saying, he closed his eyes again, like one intoxicated witli 
 sleep; but Heimbert continued his restoratives unweary- 
 ingly, and at length the refreshed wanderer half raised 
 himself from the sand with an exclamation of astonishment. 
 
 He looked from Heimbert to his companion, and from 
 her again at Heimbert, and suddenly exclaimed, gnashing 
 his teeth, " Ha, was it to be thus ! I was not even to be 
 allowed to die in the dull happiness of quiet solitude ! I 
 was to be first doomed to see my rival's success and my 
 sister's shame ! " At the same time he sprang to his feet, 
 with a violent eflrort, and rushed forward upon Heimbert 
 with drawn sword. But Heimbert moved neither sword 
 nor arm, and merely said in a gentle voice : " Wearied out, 
 as you now are, I cannot possibly fight with you ; besides 
 I must first place this lady in security." 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 139 
 
 Antonia, who had at first gazed with much emotion at 
 the angry knights, now stepped suddenly between the two 
 men, and cried out : " Oh, Fadrique, neither misery nor 
 anger can utterly disfigure you. But what has my noble 
 brother done to you ? " 
 
 " Brother ? " said Fadrique with astonishment. 
 
 " Or godfather, or confessor," interrupted Heimbert ; 
 " as you will. Only do not call her Zelinda, for her name 
 is now Antonia ; she is a Christian and waits to be your 
 bride." 
 
 Fadrique stood fixed with surprise, but Heimbert's true- 
 hearted words and Antonia's lovely blushes soon revealed 
 the happy enigma to him. He sank down before the 
 longed-for form with a sense of exquisite delight, and in 
 the midst of the inhospitable desert the flowers of love 
 and gratitude and confidence sent their sweetness heaven- 
 ward. 
 
 The excitement of this happy surprise at last gave way 
 to bodily fatigue. Antonia, like some drooping blossom, 
 stretched her fair form again on the burning sand, and 
 slumbered under the protection of her lover and her chosen 
 brother. 
 
 " Sleep also," said Heimbert softly to Fadrique ; " you 
 must have wandered about wildly and wearily, for exhaus- 
 tion is pressing down your eyelids with leaden weight. J 
 am quite fresh, and I will watch meanwhile." 
 
 "Ah, Heimbert," sighed the noble Castilian, " my sistei 
 is thine, thou messenger from heaven ; that is an under- 
 stood tiling. But, now for our affair of honor ! " 
 
 " Certainly," said Heimbert, very gravely, " as soon as 
 Ave are again in Spain, you must give me satisfaction for 
 that over-hasty expression. Till then, however, I beg you 
 not to mention it. An unfinished quarrel is no good subject 
 for conversation." 
 
 Fadrique laid himself sadly down to rest, overcome by 
 
140 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 long resisted sleep, and Heimbert knelt down with a glad 
 heart, thanking the good God for having given him success, 
 and for blessing him with a future full of joyful assur- 
 ance. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 The next day the three travelers reached the edge of the 
 desert, and refreshed themselves for a week in an adjacent 
 village, which, with its shady trees and green pastures, 
 seemed like a little paradise in contrast to the joyless Sahara. 
 Fadrique's condition, especially, made this rest necessary. 
 He had never left the desert during the whole time, gain- 
 ing his subsistence by fighting with wandering Arabs, and 
 often almost exhausted by the utter want of all food and 
 drink. At length he had become so thoroughly confused 
 that the stars could no longer guide him, and he had been 
 driven about, sadly and objectless, like the dust clouds of 
 the desert. 
 
 Even now, at times, when he would fall asleep after the 
 midday meal, and Antonia and Heimbert would watch his 
 slumbers, like two smiling angels, he would suddenly start 
 up, and gaze round him with a terrified air, and then it 
 was not till he had refreshed himself by looking at the two 
 friendly faces, that he would sink back again into quiet 
 repose. When questioned on the matter, after he was fully 
 awake, he told them that in his wanderings nothing had 
 been more terrible to him than the deluding dreams which 
 had transported him, sometimes to his own home, sometimes 
 to the merry camp of his comrades, and sometimes into 
 Zelinda's presence, and then leaving him doubly helpless 
 and miserable in the horrible solitude as the delusion van- 
 ished. It was on this account that, even now, waking was 
 fearful to him, and even in sleep a vague consciousness of 
 his past sufferings would often disturb him. "You cannot 
 imagine it," he added. " To be suddenly transported from 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 141 
 
 ■p. 311-known scenes into the boundless desert ! And instead 
 of the longed-for enchanting face of my beloved, to see an 
 ugly camel's liead stretched over me inquisitively with its 
 long neck, starting back, as I rose, with still more ugly 
 timidity ! " 
 
 This, with all other painful consequences of his past 
 miseries, soon wholly vanished from Fadrique's mind, and 
 they clieerfully set out on their journey to Tunis. The 
 consciousness, indeed, of his injustice to Heimbert and its 
 unavoidable results, often lay like a cloud upon the noble 
 Spaniard's brow, but it also softened the natural proud 
 severity of his nature, and Antonia could cling the more 
 tenderly and closelj' to him with her loving heart. 
 
 Tunis, which had been before so amazed at Zelinda's 
 magic power and enthusiastic hostility against the Chris- 
 tians, now witnessed Antonia's solemn baptism in a newly 
 consecrated edifice, and soon after the three companions 
 took ship with a favorable wind for Malaga. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Beside the fountain where she had parted from Heimbert, 
 Doiia Clara was sitting one evening in deep thought. The 
 guitar on her knees gave forth a few solitary chords, 
 dreamily drawn from it, as it were, by her delicate hands, 
 and at length forming themselves into a melody, while the 
 following words di-opped softly from her partly opened 
 lips : 
 
 Far away, 'fore Tunis's ramparts, 
 
 Where the Christian army lies, 
 Paynim hosts are fiercely fighting 
 
 With Spanisli troops and Spain's alliea 
 Who from blood-stained lilies there. 
 And death's roses pale and fair — 
 
 Who has home the conqueror's prize ? 
 
142 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 Ask Duke Alba, ask Duke Alba, 
 
 Which two knights their fame have proved. 
 
 One was my own valiant brother, 
 The other was my heart's beloved. 
 
 And I thought that I should crown them, 
 Doubly bright, with glory's prize. 
 
 And a widow's veil is falling 
 Doubly o'er my weeping eyes, 
 
 For the brave knights ne'er again, 
 
 Will be found 'mid living men. 
 
 The music paused, and soft dew-drops fell from her 
 heavenly eyes. Heimbert, who was concealed under the 
 neighboring orange-trees, felt sympathetic tears rolling 
 down his cheeks, and Fadrique, who had led him and 
 Antonia there, could no longer delay the joy of meeting, 
 but stepping forward with his two companions, he pre- 
 sented himself before his sister, like some angelic messenger. 
 
 Such moments of extreme and sudden delight, like 
 heavenly blessings long expected and rarely vouchsafed, 
 are better imagined by each after his own fashion, and it 
 is doing but an ill service to recount all that this one did 
 and that one said. Picture it therefore to yourself, dear 
 reader, after your own fancy, as you are certainly far better 
 able to do, if the two loving pairs in my story have become 
 dear to you and you have grown intimate with them. If 
 that, however, be not the case, what is the use of wasting 
 unnecessary words? For the benefit of those, who with 
 heartfelt pleasure could have lingered over this meeting of 
 the sister with her brother and her lover, I will proceed 
 with increased confidence. Although Heimbert, casting a 
 significant look at Fadrique, was on the point of retiring 
 as soon as Antonia had been placed under Dona Clara's 
 protection, the noble Spaniard would not permit him. He 
 detained his companion in arms, with courteous and 
 brotherly requests that he would remain till the evening 
 repast, at which some relatives of the Mendez family joined 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 143 
 
 the party, and in their presence Fadrique declared the brave 
 Heimbert of Waldhausen to be Doria Clara's yianc^ sealing 
 the betrothal with the most solemn words, so that it might 
 remain indissoluble, whatever might afterward occur which 
 should seem inimical to their union. The witnesses were 
 somewhat astonished at these strange precautionary 
 measures, but at Fadrique's desire they unhesitatingly gave 
 their word that all should be carried out as he wished, and 
 they did this the more unhesitatingly, as the Duke of 
 Alba, who had just been in Malaga on some naval business, 
 had filled the whole city with the praises of the two young 
 captains. 
 
 As the richest wine was now passing round the table in 
 the tall crystal goblets, Fadrique stepped behind Heimbert's 
 chair, and whispered to him : " If it please you, senor — the 
 moon is just risen and is shining as bright as day — I am 
 ready to give you satisfaction." Heimbert nodded in 
 assent, and the two youths quitted the hall, followed by the 
 sweet salutations of the unsuspecting ladies. 
 
 As they passed through the beautiful garden, Fadrique 
 said with a sigh : " We could have wandered here so hap- 
 pily together, but for my over-rashness ! " 
 
 " Yes, indeed," said Heimbert, " but so it is, and it can- 
 not be otherwise, if we would continue to look upon each 
 other as a soldier and a nobleman." 
 
 " True ! " replied Fadrique, and they hastened to reach 
 a distant part of the garden, where the sound of their clash- 
 ing swords could not reach the gay hall of betrothal they 
 had left. 
 
 CHAPTER XVm. 
 
 Secret and inclosed, with blooming shrubs planted 
 around, with not a sound to be heard of the merry com- 
 pany, nor of the animated streets of the city, with the full 
 
144 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 moon shining overliead and brightening tlie solemn circle 
 with its clear brilliancy — sucli was the spot. The two cap- 
 tains unsheathed their gleaming swords, and stood opposite 
 each other ready for the encounter. But before they be- 
 gan the combat a nobler feeling drew them to each other's 
 arms ; they lowered their weapons and embraced in the 
 most fraternal manner. They then tore themselves away 
 and the fearful contest began. 
 
 They were now no longer brothers-in-arms, no longer 
 friends, no longer brothers-in-law, who directed their sharp 
 steels against each other. With the most resolute boldness, 
 but with the coolest collectedness, each fell upon his adver- 
 sary, guarding his own breast at the same time. After a 
 few hot and dangerous passes, the combatants were obliged 
 to rest, and during the pause they regarded each other with 
 increased love, each rejoicing to find his comrade so valiant 
 and so honorable. And then the fatal strife began anew. 
 
 With his left hand Heimbert dashed aside Fadrique's 
 sword, which had been aimed at him with a thrust in tierce, 
 sideward, but the keen edge had penetrated his leathern 
 glove, and the red blood gushed out. " Hold ! " cried Fa- 
 drique, and they searched for the wound, but soon perceiv- 
 ing that it Avas of no importance, and binding it up, they 
 both began the combat with undiminished vigor. 
 
 It was not long before Pleimbert's blade pierced Fa- 
 drique's right shoulder, and the German, feeling that he had 
 wounded his opponent, now on his side called out to halt. 
 At first Fadrique would not acknowledge to the injury, hut 
 soon the blood began to trickle down, and he was obliged 
 to accept his friend's careful assistance. Still, this wound 
 also appeared insignificant, the noble Spaniard still felt 
 power to wield his sword, and again the deadly contest was 
 renewed with knightly ardor. 
 
 Presently the garden gate clanked, and the sound of a 
 horse's step was heard advancing through the shrubbery. 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 145 
 
 Both combatants paused in tlieir stern work, and turned to- 
 ward the unwelcome disturber. Tlie next moment, through 
 the slender pines, a horseman was visible whose dress and 
 bearing proclaimed him a warrior, and Fadrique, as master 
 of the house, at once addressed him. 
 
 " Senor," said he, " Why you come here, intruding into a 
 strange garden, we will inquire at another time. For the 
 present, I will only request you to leave us free from fur- 
 ther interruption by immediately retiring, and to favor me 
 with your name." 
 
 " Retire, I will not," replied the stranger, " but my name 
 I will gladly tell . you. I am the Duke of Alba." And as 
 he spoke, by a movement of his charger, a bright moon- 
 beam fell upon his pale thin face, the dwelling-place of all 
 that was grand and worthy and terrible. 
 
 The two captains bowed low, and dropped their weapons. 
 
 "I ought to know you," continued Alba, looking at them 
 with his sparkling eyes. "Yes, truly, I know you well ; you 
 are the two young heroes at the battle of Tunis. God be 
 praised that two such brave warriors, whom I had given up 
 for lost, are still alive ; but tell me, what is this aifair of 
 honor that has turned your good swords against each other ? 
 For I hope you will not hesitate to declare to me the cause 
 of your knightly contest." 
 
 They complied with the great duke's behest. Both the 
 noble youths related the whole circumstances, from the 
 evening previous to their embarkation up to the present 
 moment, while Alba remained between them, in silent 
 thought, almost motionless, like some equestrian statue. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 The captains had already long finished their story, and 
 the duke still remained silent and motionless, in deep re- 
 
146 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 flection. At last he began to speak, and addressed them as 
 follows : 
 
 "May God and His holy word help me, my young 
 knights, when I say that I consider, after my best and 
 most conscientious belief, that this affair of yours is now 
 honorably at an end. Twice have you met each other in 
 contest on account of those irritating words which escaped 
 the lips of Don Fadrique Mendez ; and indeed if the slight 
 wounds you have hitherto received are not sufficient com- 
 pensation for the angry expression, there is still your com- 
 mon fight before Tunis, and the rescue in the desert 
 afforded by Sir Heirabert of Waldhausen to Don Fadrique 
 Mendez, after he had gained his bride for him. From all 
 this, I consider that the Knight of Waldhausen is entitled 
 to pardon any offense of an adversary to whom he lias 
 shown himself so well inclined. Old Roman history tells 
 us of two captains of the great Julius Csesar, who settled a 
 dispute and cemented a hearty friendship with each other, 
 when engaged in the same bold fight, delivering each other 
 in the midst of a Gallic army. I affirm, however, that you 
 two have done more for each other ; and therefore I de- 
 clare your affair of honor to be settled, and at an end. 
 Sheathe your swords, and embrace each other in my pres- 
 ence." 
 
 Obedient to the command of their general, the young 
 knights for the present sheathed their weapons ; but anx- 
 ious lest the slightest possible shadow should fall on their 
 honor, they yet delayed the reconciling embrace. 
 
 The great Alba looked at them with somewhat of an 
 indignant air, and said: "Do you then suppose, young 
 knights, that I could wish to save the lives of two heroes at 
 the expense of their honor? I would rather at once have 
 struck you dead, both of you at once. But I see plainly 
 that with such obstinate minds one must have recourse to 
 ptJjer measures," 
 
THE TWO C APT Aim. Ul 
 
 And dismounting from his horse, he fastened it to a 
 tree, and then stepped forward between the two captains 
 with a drawn sword in his right hand, crying out : " Who- 
 ever will deny in any wise that the quarrel between Sir 
 Heimbert of Waldhausen and Don Fadrique Mendez is 
 honorably and gloriously settled, must settle the matter at 
 the peril of his life with the Duke of Alba ; and should the 
 present knights have any objection to raise to this, let them 
 declare it. I stand here as champion for my own convic- 
 tion." 
 
 The youths bowed submissively before the great umpire, 
 and fell into each other's arms. The duke, however, em- 
 braced them both with hearty affection, which appeared all 
 the more charming and refreshing, as it rarely burst forth 
 from this stern character. Then he led the reconciled 
 friends back to their betrothed, and when these, after the 
 first joyful surprise was over at the presence of the honored 
 general, started back at seeing drops of blood on the gar- 
 ments of the youths, the duke said, smiling: "Oh, ye 
 brides-elect of soldiers, you must not shrink from such 
 jewels of honor. Your lovers could bring you no fairer 
 wedding-gift." 
 
 The great Alba was not to be deprived of the pleasure of 
 enacting the office of father to the two happy brides, and 
 the festival of their union was fixed for the following day. 
 From that time forth they lived in undisturbed and joyful 
 concord ; and though the Knight Heimbert was recalled 
 soon afterward with his lovely consort to the bosom of his 
 German fatherland, he and Fadrique kept up the link be- 
 tween them by letters and messages ; and even in after 
 times, the descendants of the lord of Waldhausen boasted 
 of their connection with the noble house of Mendez, while 
 the latter have ever sacredly preserved the tradition of the 
 brave and magnanimous Heimbert. 
 
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Many years ago, on the Island of Filhnen, there lived a 
 noble knight named Frode, the friend of the Skalds ; thus 
 entitled not only because he entertained all famous and 
 noble bards in his beautiful castle, but because of his great 
 efforts to discover those ancient songs, sayings, and legends 
 existing in Runic or other characters. For this object he 
 had even made some voyages to Iceland, and had fought 
 many a bloody battle with the pirates ; for he was a manly 
 knight, striving to follow his ancestors not only in love of 
 song, but to emulate them in military prowess. Although 
 he was still scarcely beyond the prime of youth, all the 
 other nobles of the island gladly followed his counsels and 
 his banner ; indeed, his renown had already passed beyond 
 the sea to the neighboring kingdom of Germany. This 
 was the aim after which he aspired ; for it would have 
 brolten his heart had be believed that some future day 
 none of his songs would be sung and none of his legends 
 related. 
 
 One bright autumn evening, this honor-loving knight 
 was sitting in front of his castle, as he was wont to do, 
 that he might look on all sides far over land and sea, and 
 invite any passing travelers, as was his custom, to share his 
 noble hospitality. But on this day he saw but little of all 
 that he was accustomed to look on ; for an old book, with 
 artistic and beautifully-illaminated characters, which he 
 had just received from a learned Icelander, lay on his 
 
 149 
 
150 ASLAUaA'S KNIGHT. 
 
 knee. It was the legend of the fair Aslauga, the daughter 
 of Sigurd, who at first concealing her noble birth, had in 
 mean attire kept goats among the common peasant people, 
 until the golden veil of her flowing hair attracted King 
 Ragnar Lodbrog ; and inviting her to become his queen, 
 she was the ornament of the Danish throne until her death. 
 It seemed to the Knight Frode as if the gracious lady 
 Aslauga arose actually before him ; and his calm and 
 valiant heart — subject, it is true, to all the fair sex, yet 
 never until now touched by affection for any especial lady 
 — was kindled with love for the beautiful daughter of 
 Sigurd. " What does it matter," he thought within him- 
 self, " that she has disappeared from earth for more than a 
 hundred years ? She sees, nevertheless, clearly into this 
 heart of mine, and what more can a knight desire ? She 
 shall from henceforth be my lady-love and my helper in 
 battle and in song." And he forthwith made a song upon 
 his new love, which ran as follows : 
 
 They ride and they search through each valley and height, 
 To seek for the maiden most beauteous and bright ; 
 Through city and fortress they gallop so fleet, 
 To seek for the maiden most tender and sweet ; 
 They ramble through paths never trodden before, 
 To seek for a maiden with wisdom and lore ; 
 Oh ! ride on, ye knights ! for ye never will see. 
 What the pure light of song has revealed unto me. 
 I have found her, the sweetest, the wisest, the best. 
 Arousing the courage that dwells in my breast, 
 And though during life I ne'er union should find. 
 Still her face would in death be impressed on my mind ; 
 And though she no longer on earth may abide. 
 The sweet link draws me ever in dreams to her side. 
 So good-night, fair world ! and sweet love, good-day I 
 He who seeks in good earnest, success will repay. 
 
 " Much of that depends upon luck," said a hollow voice 
 close beside the knight ; and on looking round he saw a 
 
ASLAU&A'S Emai-IT. 151 
 
 poor peasant woman so closely wrapped in a gray mantle 
 that lie could not distinguisli her features in the least. 
 She looked over his shoulder on the book, and said with a 
 deep sigh : 
 
 " I know that story well ; and it fares no better with me 
 than with the maiden of whom it tells." 
 
 Frode gazed at her with astonishment. 
 
 "Yes, indeed; yes, indeed!" she continued, nodding 
 her head strangely. " I am the granddaughter of the 
 mighty Rolf, to whom the most beautiful castles and forests 
 and fields of tliis island belonged ; thy castle and thy 
 domains, Fiodc, belonged to him with the rest. We have 
 now come to poverty ; and because I am not as beautiful 
 as Aslauga, there is no hope that I shall recover my 
 possessions, and so I prefer to keep my poor face wholly 
 concealed." 
 
 It seemed as if she wereshedding hot tears under her 
 veil. Frode was very much touched at this, and begged 
 her for God's sake to let him know how he could help her, 
 for that he was a descendant of the great old northern 
 heroes, and perhaps [something still better than they — 
 namely, he was a good Christian. 
 
 "I almost think," she murmured forth from beneath her 
 veiling mantle, "thou mayst be that same Frode whom 
 they call the Good, and the friend of the Skalds, and of 
 whose generosity and clemency such wonderful stories are 
 told. If it be so, there may be help for me. Thou needst 
 only give up to me the half of thy fields, and pasture-lands, 
 and I should be tolerably able to live as befits the grand- 
 daughter of the mighty Rolf." 
 
 Frode looked down thoughtfully, partly because she had 
 asked for so very much, and partly because he was reflect- 
 ing whether she could really be descended from the power- 
 ful Rolf. After a short silence, however, the mantled 
 figure began again : " I have certainly been mistaken, and 
 
152 ASLAUGA'iS KNIGHT. 
 
 tbou art not the much-renowned and gentle-hearted Frodo. 
 He wouLl surely not have hesitated so long about a trifle ! 
 But the utmost means shall be tried. See now ! for the 
 sake of the beautiful Aslauga, of whom thou hast just been 
 reading and singing, for the sake of the daughter of the 
 glorious Sigurd, grant my request ! " 
 
 Then Frode started up passionately, exclaiming : "Tour 
 demand shall be granted ! " and he extended his knightly 
 hand in confirmation of his words. But he could not grasp 
 the hand of the peasant woman, although, the dark form 
 still remained close before him. A secret shudder began 
 to pass through bis limbs, while suddenly a light emanated 
 from the figure, a golden light, enveloping her completely, 
 and he felt as if Aslauga were before him, witli the flowing 
 veil of her golden hair, smiling on him kindly. Dazzled 
 and enraptured, he sank on his knees. When he at length 
 rose again he only saw an autumn mist spreading over tlie 
 meadow, fringed at its edges with the last glow of evening, 
 and then vanishing far over the waves. 
 
 The knight knew not what had happened to him. Deeply 
 thoughtful, he returned to his apartments, feeling almost 
 certain at one moment that he had beheld Aslauga, and at 
 the next that some hobgoblin had appeared to him with its 
 juggling tricks, spitefully mocking the service which he 
 had vowed to his dead mistress. But henceforth, whenever 
 he roamed through valley and forest and heath, or sailed 
 on the sea, similar apparitions met him ; once he found a lute 
 lying in the vrood and frightened a wolf away with it ; and 
 when the lute, untouched, emitted sounds, a beautiful little 
 child rose from it, as had been the case with Aslauga her- 
 self. Then he saw goats clambering up the highest cliffs 
 on the shore, and a golden figure tending them; then again 
 a shining queen in a radiant bark would glide close by him, 
 and salute him kindly ; and whenever he tried to approach 
 any of these, they vanished into mist and cloud and vapor. 
 
ASLAUGA'iS KNI&HT. 153 
 
 Many a song could possibly be sung of all this. So much, 
 however, he learned from it all, that the beautiful Lady 
 Aslauga accepted his services, and that he had in deed and 
 truth become her knight. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Meanwhile the winter had come and gone. In north- 
 ern countries it never fails to bring with it, to those who 
 understand and love it aright, many beautiful and signifi- 
 cant images, with which many a child of man might be 
 satisfied for all time, so far as earthly happiness is con- 
 cerned. But now when the spring came with its opening 
 buds and flowing waters, there came also welcome and 
 bright tidings to FUhnen from the land of Germany. 
 
 There stood on the rich banks of the Maine, where it 
 flows through the fertile land of Franconia, a castle of 
 almost royal dimensions, the orphaned heiress of which was 
 a relative of the Roman Emperor. Her name was Hilde- 
 gardis, and she was known far and wide as the most beauti- 
 ful of maidens. On this account her imperial uncle desired 
 that she should wed none but the most valiant knight. He 
 followed, therefore, the example of many a noble lord in 
 such a case, and proclaimed a tournament, at which the 
 chief prize was to be the hand of the fair Hildegardis, un- 
 less the victor's heart were already given to a wedded wife 
 or to a betrothed maiden. For no brave and noble knight 
 was to be excluded from the contest, so that the trial of 
 courage and strength might be all the greater. The re- 
 nowned Frode now received tidings of this from his Ger- 
 man brethren in arms, and he prepared himself to appear 
 at the festival. 
 
 Before all things, he forged for himself a splendid suit 
 of armor ; for among all the armorers of the north, famous 
 as the land is for its skill in the art, he was the most excel- 
 
154 ASLAUGA'S KNI&ST. 
 
 lent. He worked the helmet out of pure gold, and fash- 
 ioned it in such a manner that it looked like a mass of flow- 
 ing hair, calling to mind Aslauga's golden ti-esses. On the 
 breast-piece of his silver-plated armor he manufactured a 
 golden image in half-relief, representing Aslauga with her 
 veil of flowing hair, so that it might he known at the very 
 beginning of the tournament that this knight, bearing the 
 image of a lady on his breast, was not fighting for the hand 
 of the fair Hildegardis, but only for the pleasure of the 
 contest and for knightly fame. 
 
 Then he took a beautiful Danish steed from his stables, 
 embarked carefully on board a vessel, and sailed prosper- 
 ously to the opposite shore. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 In one of those fair beech-woods constantly to be seen in 
 the fertile German lands, Frode one day met with a young 
 and courteous knight, of delicate form, who invited the nohJe 
 Northman to partake of the meal which he had most com- 
 fortably prepared on the smooth turf under the agreeable 
 shade of the trees. As the two knights sat happily together 
 at their repast, they felt attracted toward each other, and 
 were delighted when, on rising from it, they found that 
 their destination led them for the present along the same 
 road. Not that they had come to this understanding by 
 many words ; for the young knight, whose name was Ed- 
 wald, was of a silent nature, and would sit for hours quietly 
 smiling, without once opening his lips to speak. Bat even 
 in this quiet smile there lay a sweet, amiable grace, and 
 when now and then a simple but thoughtful word crossed 
 his lips, it seemed like something over and above, which 
 merited thanks. It was the same with tlie little songs 
 which he sang from time to time. They ceased almost as 
 soon as they were begun, but there was a deep and grace- 
 
ASLAUQA'S KNIGHT. 155 
 
 fill spirit in the short verses, whether breathed forth like a 
 tender sigh or like a happy smile. And the noble Frode 
 felt as if a younger brother were riding beside him, or even 
 a gentle blooming son. 
 
 They remained together in this way for many days ; it 
 almost seemed as if their path were marked out for them in 
 inseparable union, and much as they rejoiced at this, yet 
 thpy looked sadly at each other at every fresh starting and 
 at every cross- way, when no change in their common direc- 
 tion showed itself. Indeed it seemed at times as if Edwald's 
 downcast eye was moistened by a tear. 
 
 It happened that in one of the hostelries at which they 
 halted, they met an arrogant knight, of gigantic stature 
 and powerful frame, with speech and manners betokening 
 foreign birth. He appeared to have come from Bohemia. 
 He looked with a strange smile at Frode, who had before 
 him the ancient book of Aslauga's history, and was eagerly 
 reading it. " You must surely be an ecclesiastical knight ? " 
 he said, inquiringly, and apparently on the point of begin- 
 ning a whole train of unseemly jests. But Frode's negative 
 answer was so seriously and calmly given that the Bohemian 
 suddenly stopped, as one has often seen beasts who, having 
 ventured to mock their king, the lion, became subdued be- 
 fore a single glance from his eye. 
 
 Subdued, however, the Bohemian certainly was not. On 
 tlie contrary, he began to ridicule young Edwald on account 
 of liis delicate form and silence ; and though at first Ed- 
 wald bore this with great patience, when the stranger at 
 length uttered an unbecoming expression, he rose up, 
 buckled on his sword, and said, bowing gracefully, "I 
 thank you, sir knight, for having given me an opportunity 
 of showing that I am neither a slothful nor an unpracticed 
 knight. For only thus is your behavior to be excused, 
 which otherwise must be termed most unmannerly. Are 
 joM read^ ? " 
 
156 AiSLAUGA'8 KNIGHT. 
 
 So saying, he moved to the door ; the Bohemian fol- 
 lowed him with a scornful smile, and Frode was full of 
 anxiety for his young and tender friend, whose honor was, 
 nevertheless, far too dear to him to allow him in any way 
 to interpose. 
 
 But it was soon evident that the Northman's fears were 
 unnecessary. With equal power and dexterity, Edwald 
 assailed his gigantic adversary, so that it almost looked 
 like one of those combats of knights with wood monsters 
 wliich we read of in old books. The issue, too, was of a 
 similar character. Edwald rushed in upon the Bohemian, 
 as he was preparing to give a decisive stroke, and threw 
 him with the force of a wrestler to the ground. But he 
 spared his conquered foe, courteously helping him to rise, 
 and then mounted his horse. Soon after, he and Frode left 
 the hostlery, and again continued their journey along the 
 same road. 
 
 " From henceforth this gives me pleasure," said Frode, 
 pointing with satisfaction to the common road they were 
 taking. " I must confess to you, Eddy," — he had accus- 
 tomed himself to call his young friend by the child-like 
 name, — " I must confess to you that whenever I thought 
 hitherto that you might perhaps be going with me to the 
 tournament which is to be held in honor of the beautiful 
 Hildegardis, a sense of dread would come over my heart. 
 I saw well your noble knightly courage, but I feared tlie 
 power in your delicate limbs might not be adequate to it. 
 Now I have learned to know you as a warrior who seeks 
 his equal, and God be praised if we ever keep the same 
 road, and bid each other welcome speedily in the lists ! " 
 
 Edwald, however, looked at him very sadly, and said : 
 " What can my skill and my strength avail if I must use 
 them against you, and tliat for the highest prize on earth, 
 which after all only one of us can win ? Ah ! I have long 
 foreboded with a heavy heart the gad tidings that you also 
 
ASLAUQA'S KNI&HT. 157 
 
 were on your way to the tournament of the beautiful Hil- 
 degardis." 
 
 " Eddy," replied Erode, smiling, " you sweet, kindly 
 child, do you not then see that I already bear on my breast- 
 arraor the image of a liege lady? My contest is only for 
 the honor of victory, and not for your fair Hildegardis." 
 
 ''My fair Hildegardis!" sighed Edwald. "That she is 
 not, and never will be, or were she to be so — ah ! Erode, it 
 would, notwithstanding, pierce your heart. I know the 
 Northland faith is as deeply rooted as your rocks, and is 
 as hard to melt as their summits of snow, but no child of 
 man may dare to imagine that he could look unscathed 
 into the eyes of Hildegardis. The haughty, overhaughty 
 maiden has so completely infatuated my calm and humble 
 mind that I forget the gulf which lies between us, and pur- 
 sue her ; and I would rather perish than renounce the rash 
 hope of winning that eagle spirit for my own." 
 
 " I will help you to do so, Eddy," replied Erode, still 
 smiling. "If I only knew how this sovereign lady looks. 
 She must be like the Valkyrse of our heathen ancestors, 
 since so many brave warriors are vanquished by her." 
 
 Edwald gravely drew a picture from beneath his armor, 
 and held it out before him. Fixed, and as if enchanted. 
 Erode gazed upon it ; his cheeks glowed, his eyes sparkled, 
 the smile disappeared from his countenance, as the sunlight 
 passes from the meadows before the darkening storm. 
 
 "You see now, my noble comrade," whispered Edwald, 
 " that for one of us two, or for both of us, the joy of life 
 is gone." 
 
 "Not yet," replied Erode, with a powerful effort, "but 
 hide your wonderful picture, and let us rest under this 
 shade. Your encounter must have somewhat exhausted 
 you, and a strange weariness oppresses me like a leaden 
 weight." They dismounted from their steeds and stretched 
 themselves on the ground. 
 
1 5 8 ASLA U&A 'S KNIGHT. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The noble Erode had no desire for sleep, he only wished 
 undisturbed to wrestle powerfully with himself, in order, 
 if possible, to drive from his mind the fearful beauty of 
 Hildegardis. But it was as if this strange influence Lad 
 become a part of his very life, and at length a restless, 
 dreamy sleep actually overshadowed the exhausted knight. 
 It appeared to him as if he was fighting with many knights, 
 and Hildegardis was looking on smilingly from a richly 
 ornamented balcony, and just as he thought he had gained 
 the victory a groan would rise from the bleeding Edwald 
 lying beneath his horse's feet. Then again it seemed to 
 him that Hildegardis was standing by his side in the 
 church, and that he was about to be united to her in mar- 
 riage ; he knew well that he was not right, and with a 
 powerful effort he repressed the " yes," which he was on 
 the point of uttering, while at the same time his eyes were 
 moistened with hot tears. He was at length awoke from 
 these, and from still wilder and more confused visions, by 
 the sound of Edwald's voice. He rose, and heard his com- 
 panion say courteously, in the direction of a neighboring 
 copse, " Come back again, noble maiden. I will certainly 
 help you, if I can, and I had no intention of frightening 
 you away ; only I did not wish you to wake my brother-in- 
 arms from his slumbers." A gleam of gold shone through 
 the bushes as the figure vanished. 
 
 " For heaven's sake, my faithful comrade," cried Erode, 
 " with whom were you speaking, and whom have you seen 
 by my side ? " 
 
 " I cannot myself rightly understand it," said Edwald. 
 "You had scarcely fallen asleep than a figure came out of 
 the forest, wrapped in a large dark mantle ; I took her at 
 first for a peasant. She seated herself at your head, and, 
 
ASLA UGA'S KNIGHT. 1 5 9 
 
 although I could see nothing of her face, I observed that 
 she was very sad and was even shedding tears. I signed 
 to her to go away, that slie might not disturb you, and I 
 was on the point of offering her a piece of gold, sujiposing 
 that poverty was the cause of her deep sorrow. But my 
 hand all at once seemed paralj'zed, and a shudder passed 
 through my mind, as if I had entertained such a purpose 
 toward a queen. At tlie same time gleaming locks of gold 
 waved here and there between the folds of her mantle, and 
 the copse began to be almost radiant with the reflection. 
 ' Poor boy,' she then said, ' thou lovest indeed, and thou 
 canst understand how a noble woman's heart burns with 
 aching sorrow, when a knightly hero, who has vowed him- 
 self to be her own, turns his affections aside and is drawn 
 away by lower aspirations, like a weak slave.' Upon this 
 she rose and disappeared, sighing, into yonder copse. It 
 almost seemed to me, Frode, as if she uttered your name." 
 "Yes, it was my name she uttered,'' replied Frode, "and 
 not in vain has she done so. Aslauga, thy knight comes, 
 and enters the lists for thee and thy reward alone ! At 
 the same time, dear Eddy, we will win your haughty bride 
 for you." So saying, he vaulted on his steed with all his 
 old and proud joy ; and when the fair Hildegardis, with 
 her dazzling and bewildering charms, rose before him, he 
 would say, smiling : " Aslauga ! " and the sun of his inner 
 life would again rise bright and cloudless. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 On a balcony in her magnificent castle on the Maine, 
 Hildegardis was wont to refresh herself in the cool even- 
 ing by gazing on the fertile landscape ; but still more 
 readily did she gaze on the glittering arms, which were 
 generally visible on many a distant road, along which 
 knights were approaching singly or with a train of squires. 
 
160 ASLAUOA'S KNIGHT. 
 
 all eagerly desiring to prove their courage and strength to 
 win the high prize at the coming tournament. She was 
 indeed a haughty and high-minded maiden — carrying this 
 a little further, perhaps, than even became her dazzling 
 beauty and her princely rank. As she was now looking 
 smilingly at the glittering roads, a damsel in her train 
 began the follovving song : 
 
 All ! tliat I were 
 
 A little bird 1 
 
 Through grove and pasture 
 
 Gayly heard. 
 
 Chanting forth in gladsome song. 
 
 All, all the thoughts that within me thi'ong ! 
 
 Oh ! could I bloom 
 
 Like some sweet flower, 
 
 lite perfume breathing 
 
 O'er mead and bower ; 
 
 Giving forth in summer air 
 
 All, all that in secret gushes there. 
 
 But I am only 
 
 An honest knight 
 
 With liigh aim seeking 
 
 To do aright. 
 
 And in silence within my breast. 
 
 My all, my all is in stillness prest. 
 
 "Why do you sing that song, and just now, too ?" said 
 Hildegardis, trying to look scornful and proud as she 
 spoke, with a deep and secret sorrow evident in her face. 
 
 "It came unawares into my mind," replied the girl, 
 "when I looked upon the road by which the gentle Ed- 
 wald, with his little graceful songs, first came to us, and 
 then I sang this, which was one of his. But does it not 
 seem to you, my mistress, and to you too, my companions, 
 as if that were Edwald riding along the road there toward 
 the castle ? " 
 
 " Dreamer ! " said Hildegardis, laughing scornfully, and 
 
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 161 
 
 yet she could not withdraw her eyes for some time from 
 the knight, till at length, almost w;ith an effort, she turned 
 them oil Frode, who was riding by his side, and said, 
 "Yes, -indeed, that is Edwald. But what do you see that 
 is so "grand in the silent, humble boy ? Turn your gaze, 
 my maidens, here, upon this majestic figure, if you wish to 
 see a glorious knight." She was silent. A voice within 
 her, as of prophecy, told her that the victor of the tourna- 
 ment was now riding into the court-yard, and for the first 
 time in her life that she had feared the presence of a fellow 
 being, she felt a humble and almost painful awe of the 
 noble Northern knight. 
 
 At the evening meal, the two newly arrived knights 
 were placed opposite the royal Hildegardis. As Frode, 
 after the Northern fashion, remained' in full armor, the 
 golden image of Aslauga gleamed brightly on the silver 
 breastplate before the eyes of the haughty princess. She 
 smiled scornfully, as if she were conscious that it depended 
 on her will to expel the image of his lady from the breast 
 and from the heart of the stranger knight. But suddenly 
 a clear golden light passed through the hall, and Hildegar- 
 dis, exclaiming that itlightened,^covered her eyes with both 
 her hands. Frode, however, looked at the dazzling gleam 
 with a feeling of glad welcome. This increased Hildegar- 
 dis's fear of him still more, although she at the same time 
 thought that this noblest and most wonderful of men could 
 only be born for herself alone. Still she could not forbear, 
 almost against her will, now and then casting a glance full 
 of emotion and tenderness at the poor Edwald, who sat 
 there silent and courteous, as though he were smiling piti- 
 fully at his own sorrow and his vain hopes. 
 
 When the two knights were alone in their sleeping 
 apartment, Edwald sat for some time gazing silently out of 
 the window into the dewy, balmy night. Then he sang to 
 his lute : 
 
162 A8LAU&A'iS KNIGHT. 
 
 A hero wise and tried, 
 
 And a pious youth, 
 
 Linked with him in faith and truth, 
 
 Roamed together far and wide. 
 
 The hero by liis deeds had won 
 Both happiness and rest. 
 The youth delight expressed. 
 And with hearty joy looked on. 
 
 But Frode took the lute from him, and said : " No, Eddy, 
 I will teach you another song. Listen ! 
 
 " There's a light in the hall as of dawning day ; 
 'Tis the beautiful maid in her bright array. 
 She looks to the left and she looks to the right, 
 And suitors are watching her glance of light. 
 Shall it be he with the golden attire ? 
 She turns away. He may not aspire. 
 Or he with the speech so thoughtful and wise ? 
 She resteth on him neither ear nor eyes. 
 Perhaps 'tis the prince in his pageant vain 1 
 Nay ; different visions have filled her brain. 
 Tell me, who is it throughout the land, 
 Who is it has won the fair maiden's hand ? 
 Silently bearing love's aching smart, 
 Sits the noble squire that hath gained her heart ; 
 They are all deceived in their hoped-for lot. 
 And the one she has chosen imagines it not." 
 
 Edwald thrilled with emotion. " As God wills," he said 
 softly to himself, " but I think I could never conceive that 
 such a thing could be." 
 
 "As God wills ! " repeated Frode. The two friends em- 
 braced each other and soon fell happily asleep. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Some days after, Frode was sitting in a secluded bower 
 in the castle garden, reading the ancient book of his beau- 
 tiful mistress Aslauga. It happened just then that Hil- 
 
ASLA UGA'a KNIGHT. 103 
 
 degardis passed by. She paused for a few moments 
 thoughtfully, and then said : " How is it, strange union 
 that you are of knight and sage, how is it tliat you dispense 
 so little from the deep treasures of your knowledge ? I 
 shouhl, however, imagine that you must have many a 
 pleasant story at your disposal ; for instance that which you 
 have now before you, for I see iine and bright pictures of 
 beautiful maidens and noble heroes painted among the 
 written characters." 
 
 " It is indeed,'' said Frode, "the most glorious and en- 
 chanting story in the world. But you have neither pa- 
 tience nor seriousness enough to listen to our wonderful 
 legends of the north." 
 
 " Who tells you that ? " replied Hildegardis, with some 
 pride, which she was glad to assume toward Frode, when 
 she could succeed in doing so ; and, placing herself on a 
 stone seat in front of him, she commanded him at once to 
 read her something out of that beautiful book. 
 
 Frode began, and in the very effort which he made to 
 change the old heroic Icelandic tongue into the south 
 German dialect, his heart and mind glowed with increased 
 fervor and excitement. When from time to time he looked 
 up, he saw the beaming countenance of Hildegardis, spark- 
 ling with, joy, wonder, and interest, and the thought passed 
 through his mind whether this after all might not be the 
 chosen bride to whom Aslauga was guiding him. 
 
 Suddenly the characters began to grow strangely con- 
 fused before his eyes ; it seemed as if the pictures began to 
 move, and he was obliged to stop. While he was fixing 
 his eyes intently on the book in the hope of overcoming 
 this mysterious confusion, he heard a sweet and well-known 
 voice say : "Make a little room, fair lad}'. The story 
 which the knight is reading to you relates to me, and I 
 hear it gladly." 
 
 When Frode raised his eyes he saw Aslauga sitting in all 
 
104 A8LAUQA'8 KNIQHT. 
 
 the glory of her flowing golden hair on the seat beside Hil- 
 degardis. Filled with alarm, the maiden sank back faint- 
 ing. Aslauga, with a solemn but graceful air, threatened 
 the knight with her fair hand and vanished. 
 
 " What have I done to you ? " said Hildegardis, when re- 
 vived by his efforts ; " what have I done to you, evil knight, 
 that you should summon j^our Northern specters to my 
 side, and frighten me to death with your terrible magic 
 arts ? " 
 
 " Lady," replied Frode, " may God help me, as I have 
 not summoned hither the wonderful form which has just 
 appeared to us. But I now know her will most clearly, 
 and I commend you to God's protection." So saying, he 
 walked thoughtfully out of the shrubbery. 
 
 Hildegardis fled timidly in another direction out of the 
 gloomy shade and reached a wide and beautiful grass-plat, 
 where Edwald was gathering flowers in the pleasant even- 
 ing light, and, smiling courteously as she approached, 
 offered her a nosegay of pansics and narcissus. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 The day appointed for the tournament arrived, and a 
 powerful duke, appointed by the Latin emperor as his rep- 
 resentative, arranged everything in the most splendid and 
 magnificent manner for the solemn festival. The place of 
 combat was an extensive level ground, thickly strewn with 
 the finest sand, so that horse and rider could find good foot- 
 ing on it, and it shone forth like a pure field of snow in the 
 midst of the flowery plain. Ricli hangings of silk from 
 Arabia, curiously embroidered with Indian gold, hung with 
 their various colors over the barriers inclosing the space, 
 and floated from the high scaffoldings which had been 
 erected for the ladies and princely spectators. 
 
 At the upper end, under a canopy of golden arches. 
 
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 165 
 
 artistically interlaced, was the post of the Lady Hildegardis. 
 Green wi'eaths and garlands waved gracefully between the 
 glittering pillars in the soft breezes of July, and the 
 impatient rage of the multitude who thronged outside tlie 
 lists was fixed expectantly on the spot at which the fairest 
 maiden in Germany was to appear ; and was only now and 
 then turned in another direction by the stately entrance of 
 the combatants. There was many a bright suit of armor, 
 many a velvet and richly embroidered military coat, many 
 a lofty waving plume to be seen ! The splendid troop of 
 knights moved to the places assigned them, greeting and 
 speaking to each other, like some bed of flowers stirred by 
 the breeze, but the flowers in it had grown to trees, and the 
 white and yellow petals had been transformed to gold and 
 silver, and the dewdrops to pearls and diamonds. For 
 whatever was fair and costly, the noble knights had ingen- 
 iously and variously expended on the splendor of the day. 
 
 Many eyes were fixed on Erode, who, without scarf, 
 plume, or mantle, arrayed in his burnished silver coat of 
 mail with the golden image of Aslauga, and his well- 
 wrought helmet of golden locks, shone forth through the 
 crowd of knights like polished brass. Others again took 
 especial pleasure in looking at the young Edwald, whose 
 whole armor was covered with a mantle of white velvet, 
 bordered with azure and silver, while his entire helmet was 
 concealed by a magnificent plume of white feathers. There 
 was something of almost feminine elegance in his attire, 
 and yet the conscious power with which he restrained 
 his wild and snow-white charger, proclaimed the manly 
 strength of the knightly stripling. 
 
 Strangely contrasting with him, was a tall and almost 
 gigantic figure, wearing a mantle of black glossy bear's 
 skin, bordered by costly fur, but devoid of all ornament of 
 shining metal ; even the helmet was covered with black 
 bear's skin, and instead of a plume a mane of blood-red 
 
166 ASLAUGA' 8 KNIGHT. 
 
 horse-hair hung profusely over it. Frode and Edwald 
 knew the dark knight well ; it was their uncourteous guest 
 at the hostelry, and he also seemed to observe the two 
 knights, for he turned his steed impetuously round, and 
 forced his way through the crowd of combatants, and after 
 having spoken with an ugly, sallow-faced woman at the 
 barriers, he sprang with a wild leap over the lists, and swift 
 as an arrow galloped out of sight. The old woman nodded 
 after him in a friendly manner ; the assembled people 
 laughed, as at some strange carnival device, and Edwald 
 and Frode had their own almost shuddering thoughts of 
 the matter, though neither thought it well to impart them 
 to the other. 
 
 The kettle-drums rolled, the trumpets sounded ; and led 
 by the old duke, Hildegardis, richly attired, and rendered 
 still more radiant by her own dazzling beauty, appeared 
 under the arches of the golden bower, and bowed to the 
 assembled company. Every ^knightly head bent low in 
 return, and in almost all hearts the feeling rose that there 
 was no man on earth who could deserve a bride so queenly- 
 When Frode bowed, it seemed to him as if the golden 
 brightness of Aslauga's locks floated before him, and lie 
 felt proud and joyful that his mistress deemed him worthy 
 to be so often reminded of her. 
 
 The tournament began. At first the knights fought with 
 blunted swords and battle-axes ; then they ran, lance in 
 hand, man against man, and at last they divided into two 
 equal parties, and a general encounter began, in which each 
 was free to use sword or spear as he chose. 
 
 Frode and Edwald had gained the same advantage over 
 their antagonists, as had seemed probable to them both, 
 when computing each his own strength and that of his 
 friend ; and now a single trial with lances was to decide to 
 whom the highest prize of victory was due. Before the 
 contest began they rode slowly together into the middle of 
 
ASLA UGA^S KNIQET. 1 6 7 
 
 the course, consulting where they should each take their 
 place. " Only keep your inspiring star ever in sight," said 
 Frode, smiling, " the same gracious help will not be lacking 
 to me." Edwald looked round astonished for the lady to 
 whom his friend seemed to allude, and Frode continued : 
 "I have been wrong in concealing anything from you, but 
 after the tournament you shall know everything. Now lay 
 aside all unnecessary thoughts, dear Eddy, and sit fii-mly 
 on your saddle, for I tell you I shall run this course with 
 all my might, because not only mj^ honor is at stake, but 
 • the far higher honor of my lady." 
 
 " Such is my purpose also," said Edwald, in a friendly 
 tone. They shook hands and rode to theii' places. 
 
 At the sound of the trumpets, running with the swift- 
 ness of an arrow they met together ; the lances shivered 
 with a crash, the horses stumbled, the knights, immovable 
 in their stirrups, pulled them up, and trotted back to their 
 places. 
 
 When they prepared for a second course, Edwald's gray 
 charger snorted wildly and shyly ; Frode's powerful roan 
 reared and pranced ; it was evident that the two noble 
 animals shrunk from a second hard encounter ; but their 
 riders held them fast with spur and bit, and at the repeated 
 sound of the trumpets, they again dashed forward. Vigor- 
 ous and obedient, Edwald, who by one deep, ardent gaze at 
 the beauty of liis mistress had impressed it anew upon his 
 soul, exclaimed aloud at the moment of encounter, " Hilde- 
 gardis ! " and so powerfully did his lance strike his valiant 
 adversary that Frode was completely thrown back on his 
 steed, only with difficulty keeping his seat in his saddle and 
 scaroelj' holding firm in his stirrups ; while Edwald flew by 
 unshaken, lowering his spear to salute Hildegardis as he 
 passed her bower, and then amid the loud applause of the 
 multitude, galloping to his place, ready for a tliird trial. 
 Ah, even Hildegardis, taken by surprise, had greeted him 
 
168 ASLAT7GA'8 KMIGBT. 
 
 blusliingly and graciously, and he felt as if tlie intoxicating 
 bliss of victory were already gained. 
 
 But this it was not yet ; for the noble Frode, glowing 
 with warlike shame, subdued again his wild steed and 
 chastised it with the sharp spur for its share in his past 
 mischance. At tlie same time he whispered softly : " Dear, 
 beautiful lady, show thyself to me visibly ; the honor of 
 thy name is at stake." 
 
 To all the spectators it seemed as if a golden, rosy-tinted 
 summer-cloud were passing over the deep-blue sky, but 
 Frode beheld the heavenly countenance of his lady ; he felt 
 himself as if fanned by her golden hair, and exclaiming 
 " Aslauga," he rushed to the encounter with his adversary, 
 and Edwald was hurled from his saddle far upon the dusty 
 plain. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Feode remained for a time perfectly motionless, after 
 the custom of knights, as if waiting to see whether any one 
 would dispute the victory, and mounted on his mailed steed 
 he looked almost like some lofty statue of brass. The 
 multitude around stood in awe-stmck surprise. But now, 
 when at length tlie shout of triumph burst forth, he made 
 a sign witli his hand, and all were again silent. Then 
 springing lightly from the saddle, he hastened to the spot 
 where the fallen Edwald was striving to rise. He pressed 
 him Av.armly to his heart, led his snow-white steed up to 
 him, and would not desist till the youth had allowed him 
 to hold the stirrups while lie mounted. Then he sprang 
 upon his own steed, and rode by Edwald's side toward the 
 golden bower of Hildegardis, where with lowered spear and 
 raised vizor he thus spoke : 
 
 "Fairest of all living women, I here bring you Edwald, 
 your knightly lover, before whose lance and sword all the 
 
ASLAUGA'S KNIQBT. 169 
 
 heroes of this tournament have been laid low, myself only 
 excepted, and I can make no claim to the most glorious 
 jewel that awaits the victor, since, as the image on my 
 breastplate shows, I already serve another mistress." 
 
 The duke was preparing to advance to the two warriors, 
 to lead them up to the golden bower, but a glance from 
 Ilildegardis restrained him, and with cheeks glowing with 
 anger, she replied : 
 
 " Then Sir Frode, my Danish knight, you serve your lady 
 but ill, for it was just now that you openly called me the 
 fairest of living women." 
 
 " I did so," replied Frode, with a courteous reverence, 
 "because my fair mistress belongs to the dead." 
 
 A slight shudder passed through the assembly at these 
 words, and through the heart of Ilildegardis also, but soon 
 the anger of the maiden burst forth again, all the more 
 vehemently as the most glorious and wonderful kniglit 
 tliat she knew had scorned her for the sake of one who 
 was dead. 
 
 " I make known to all," she cried, with" solemn earnest- 
 ness, "that by the decree of m.j imperial uncle, this hand 
 can belong to no vanquished knight, however noble and 
 renowned he may otherwise have shown himself. As the 
 victor at this tournament is bound to another service, this 
 contest cannot affect me, and I depart hence as I came — a 
 free and uubetrothed maiden." 
 
 The duke seemed about to interpose, but she turned 
 haughtily from him, and left the golden bower. At the 
 same time a wild and unexpected gust of wind tore down 
 the green wreaths and garlands and carried them away in 
 rustling confusion, and the people, displeased at the pride 
 of Ilildegardis, fancied they saw in this an omen of punish- 
 ment, and dispersed muttering a scornful approval. 
 
no AiSLAUGA'S KNIGET. 
 
 CHAPTER IX, 
 
 The two knights had returned to their apartments in 
 deep silence. When they arrived there, Edwald unarmed 
 himself at once, and placed all the pieces of his beautiful 
 shining armor together with a careful and loving precision, 
 almost as if he were burying some dear beloved one. Then 
 he signed to his squires to leave the chamber, and taking 
 his lute on his arm he sang the following song to its notes : 
 
 Whom dost thou lay iu Uiu grave 
 
 So soft and still 1 
 
 It is my passionate. 
 
 My joyful will. 
 
 Sleep calm, thou dead, within thy cell ! 
 
 My withered hope with thee must dwell. 
 
 " You will make me angry with your lute," said Fi-ode, 
 " unless you accustom it again to more joyful songs. It is 
 too good to be a passing-bell, and you are too good to toll 
 it. I tell you, my young hero, all wUl yet end gloriously." 
 
 Edwakl looked at him for a while with an expression of 
 wonder, then he answered kindly, " Nay, dear Erode, if 
 it disi^leases you, I will certainly not sing again." 
 
 He touched, however, a few sad chords, which sounded 
 infinitely sweet and tender. The Northern knight was 
 deeply touched, and clasping him in his arms, he said : 
 
 " Dear Eddy, sing, and speak, and do whatever pleases 
 you, it shall always be pleasant to me also. But you may 
 well believe it, when I foretell to you, not without a spirit 
 of presage, that your sorrow shall change ; whether in 
 death or life, I know not, but a great and overpowering 
 joy awaits you." 
 
 Firmly and cheerfully, Edwald rose from his seat, seized 
 powerfully his companion's arm, and walked with him 
 through the flowering garden in the balmy evening air. 
 
ASLAUQA'S KNIGHT. 171 
 
 At this very hour, an old woman, muffled and concealed 
 by wraps, was conducted secretly to the apartment of the 
 Lady Hildegardis. The stranger, who was dark and 
 strange to look at, had gathered around her for some time, 
 by various juggling tricks, a part of the people returning 
 home from the tournament, but they had all at last dis- 
 persed in wild terror. Before this had taken place, the 
 tirewoman of Hildegardis had hastened to her mistress to 
 entertain her with an account of the strange and merry 
 tricks performed by the sallow-complexioned woman, and 
 the maidens of Ilildegardis's train, seeing their lady's agi- 
 tation and wishing to banish her melancholy, bade the 
 maid call the old woman hither. Hildegardis acceded, 
 hoping thus to divert the attention of her waiting-women 
 from herself, and to be able to contemplate more quietly 
 and earnestly the various visions that passed before her 
 mind. 
 
 The messenger found the place already deserted, and 
 the old stranger alone in the midst, laughing immoderately. 
 When questioned, she did not conceal that she had once 
 assumed the form of an immense owl, and had declared to 
 the spectators in a screeching tone that she was the devil, 
 upon which they had all rushed screaming to their homes. 
 
 The tirewoman was frightened at the ugly jest, and yet 
 she did not venture to ask Hildegardis for fresh orders, as 
 she had observed her discontent. She satisfied herself, 
 therefore, with impressing upon the old woman, with many 
 threatenings and promises, that she should behave herself 
 discreetly in the castle, and she then conducted her thither 
 by private ways, so that none of the people whom she had 
 frightened should observe her enter. 
 
 The old woman now stood before Hildegardis, and al- 
 though she made a low and humble salutation she winked 
 at her in a strangely intimate manner, as though there were 
 some secret between them. The lady felt an involuntary 
 
1 V 2 ASLA UGA'S KNIGHT. 
 
 shudder, and could not witlidraw her gaze from the fcatui'es 
 of the ugly countenance, hateful as it was to her. The rest 
 seemed in nowise to have satisfied the curiosity which had 
 led them to desire to see the strange woman ; for she per- 
 formed only the most ordinary feats of jugglery, and re- 
 counted well-known tales, making even the tirewoman feel 
 weary and indifferent, and quite ashamed of her recom- 
 mendation. She stepped therefore away unnoticed, and 
 some of the maidens followed her example, and as each 
 withdrew the old crone twisted her mouth into a smile, 
 and repeated her ugly confidential wink toward the lady. 
 Hildegardis could not understand what attracted her in the 
 jests and stories of the sallow old woman ; but so it was ; 
 in all her life she had never listened so attentively to the 
 words of any one. The old woman went on relating, and 
 the night grew dark outside, but the attendants who still 
 remained with Hildegardis had fallen into a deep sleep, and 
 had lighted none of the wax tapers in the apartment. 
 
 Presently, in the gloomy twilight, the dark old woman 
 rose from the little seat which had been her place hitherto, 
 and, as if she now thought herself thoroughly at home, ap- 
 proached Hildegardis, half stupefied as she was with terror, 
 placed herself beside her on the purple couch, and embrac- 
 ing her with hateful caresses, and with her long and 
 withered arms, whispered a few words in her ear. It 
 seemed to the lady as if she uttered the names of Frode 
 and Edwald, and then she heard the sound of a flute, which 
 in its clear and silvery cadences seemed to lull her into 
 slumber ; it is true she could move her limbs, but only to 
 follow the sounds, which floated round the ugly form of 
 the old woman like a veil of silver net-work. And then 
 the old woman glided from the room and Hildegardis fol- 
 lowed her, passing: among all her sleeping maidens and 
 siucin? softly as she went : '"Maidens, maidens, I wander 
 bv iiidit." 
 
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 1Y3 
 
 Outside the castle stood the gigantic Bohemian knight 
 with, his squires and grooms. He placed a heavy bag of 
 gold on the old crone's shoulders, so heavy that she sank to 
 the ground, half whimpering, half laughing ; he then lifted 
 the dreaming Ilildegardis on his charger, and trotted 
 silently away with her into the ever deepening night 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 " Ye noble knights and lords, all ye, who yesterday gal- 
 lantly contended for the prize of victory and for the hand 
 of the beautiful Hildegardis ! Up, up ! saddle your horses 
 and to the rescue ! The fair Hildegardis is carried off ! " 
 
 Such was the proclamation of many a herald through 
 castle and town, in the early morning of the following 
 day, and on all sides might be seen clouds of dust from 
 knights and noble squires, as they galloped along the 
 roads, by which so lately in the evening light Ilildegardis 
 had proudly and silently watched the approach of her 
 suitors. 
 
 Two of them, well known to us, still remained insepar- 
 ably together, but they knew as little as others whether 
 they were taking the right direction, for how and when 
 the honored lady could have disappeared from her apart- 
 ments remained a fearful and impenetrable secret to the 
 whole castle. 
 
 Edwald and Frode rode on, so long as the sun moved 
 over their heads, unwearied as he ; now, however, when he 
 sunk in the waters of the river, they thought to win the 
 prize from him, and they once more spurred on their 
 weary horses ; but the noble animals staggered and panted, 
 and their riders were obliged to give them some refresh- 
 ment on a grassy meadow. Secure of bringing them back 
 at the first call, the knights took off bit and curb, so that 
 they might enjoy the pasture and the fresh waters of the 
 
1V4 ASLAU&A'S KNIGHT. 
 
 Maine, while they themselves rested under the branches of 
 a neighboring grove of alders. 
 
 Deep in the cool, dark shade, there gleamed, as it were, a 
 clear but sparkling light, checking Frode's words, who was 
 just beginning to tell his friend the story of his knightly 
 service to his noble mistress Aslauga ; a story which had 
 been withheld hitherto, first by Edwald's sadness, and after- 
 ward by his impatience to start on the journey. Ah ! well 
 did Erode know that gentle golden light ! "Let us follow 
 it, Eddy," said he softly, "aud we will leave the horses 
 meanwhile to their pasture and refreshment." 
 
 Edwald silently obeyed the advice of his comrade in 
 arms. A foreboding, half sweet, half fearful, seemed to 
 tell him that here lay the path, and indeed the only right 
 path to Hildegardis. Once only he said, in amazement : 
 " I have never seen the evening glow shine so exquisitely 
 upon the leaves." Erode smilingly shook his head, and 
 they pursued in silence their secret path. 
 
 When they emerged on the other side of the alder grove, 
 upon the Maine, which by a sudden turn almost inclosed 
 the grove, Edwald plainly saw that another glow than that 
 of the evening light was shining on them, for the night had 
 already spread dark and cloudy over the heavens, and the 
 guiding gleam stood still on the banks of the river. The 
 waves were lighted up by it, so that a little wooded island 
 height was visible in the middle of the stream, and a boat 
 on the nearest side to them was fast bound to a stake. As 
 they approached, however, the knights saw still more ; 
 they perceived a troop of horsemen, of strange and foreign 
 appearance, all sleeping, and in the midst of them, slumber- 
 ing on cushions, lay a female form in white attire. 
 
 " Hildegardis ! " murmured Edwald to himself, with a 
 smile. And at the same time, drawing his sword, he held 
 himself in readiness in case the robbers might awake, and 
 signed to Erode to raise the sleeping lady and to convey her 
 
ASLAU&A'S KNIGHT. 1Y5 
 
 to a place of safety. But at the same moment sometliing 
 like an owl fluttered over the dark host, and all started up 
 with clashing arms and hideous cries. A wild, unequal 
 combat arose in the profound darkness, for the beaming 
 light had disappeared ; Frode and Edwald were separated 
 in the crowd, and only at a distance heard each other's 
 spirited war-cry ; Hildegardis, startled from her magic 
 slumber, and not knowing whether she were waking or 
 dreaming, fled with bewildered senses, weeping bitterly, 
 into the deepest shades of the alder grove. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Feode felt his arm growing weary, and the warm blood 
 was trickling from two wounds in his shoulder. He 
 wished to fall in such a manner that he might rise up with 
 honor from his bloody grave before his noble mistress 
 whom he served, and casting his shield behind him, he 
 grasped his sword-hilt with both his hands, and rushed for- 
 ward wildly, with a loud war-cry, against the terrified 
 enemy. He heard -some voices exclaim : " It it the fury of 
 the northern champions which is upon him ! It is the 
 savage fury ! " And the whole troop dispersed in alarm, 
 while the exhausted hero remained alone in the darkness, 
 wounded and suffering. 
 
 Presently Aslauga's golden hair gleamed again in the 
 alder shade, and Frode, wearily supporting himself on his 
 sword, said : " I do not think I am wounded to death, but 
 should it come to that, oh beloved mistress, wilt thou not 
 surely appear to me in all thy loveliness and glory ? " A 
 gentle " Yes " was breathed against his cheek, and the 
 golden light vanished. 
 
 But half fainting, Hildegardis now tottered forth from 
 the copse, and said softly : " In there is the terrible and 
 
1 V6 ASLA VGA'S KNIGHT. 
 
 beautiful specter of the north, out there is the fight ! Oh ! 
 whither shall I go ? " 
 
 Then Frode stepped forwai-d to soothe her, and was on 
 the point of speaking many a word of comfort to the 
 affrighted maiden, and to call for Edwald, when the return 
 of the Bohemian warriors was announced by the clattering 
 of their weapons and their wild shouts. Hastily, Frode 
 led the maiden to the boat, pushed off from the shore, and 
 rowed with all the effort his failing powers could make to- 
 ward the island height, which he had before observed in the 
 middle of the stream. But his pursuers had kindled 
 torches, and waving them sparkling to and fro, they soon 
 perceived the boat ; by their light they saw that tlie 
 dreaded Danish knight was bleeding, and gained fresh 
 courage for pursuit. Even before Erode had reached the 
 shore of the island, he observed that a Bohemian was on 
 the opposite side in another vessel, and soon after the 
 greater part of the enemy had embarked and were rowing 
 toward him. 
 
 " Into the wood, fair maiden ! " he whispered, as soon as 
 he had helped Hildegardis to land. " Hide yourself there, 
 while I endeavor to prevent the robbers from landing 
 here." 
 
 But, clijiging to his arm, Hildegardis whispered in re- 
 turn : " Have I not seen that you are pale and bleeding ? 
 And do you wish that I should i)crish with terror in these 
 solitary and gloomy mazes ? Ah ! and if your northern 
 gold-haired specter were to appear again, and seat herself 
 beside me ! Think you, perhaps, I do not see her now, 
 gleaming there between the bushes ? " 
 
 " She gleams ! " repeated Frode, and new strength and 
 hope ran through every vein. He climbed the hill, follow- 
 ing the beautiful glimmer of light, and though Hilde- 
 gardis trembled af the sight, she readily went with her 
 (Tuide, whispering softly to him from time to time ; 
 
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. Ill 
 
 " Oh, sii" knight, my noble, wonderful knight, do not 
 leave me here alone ! It would be my death ! " 
 
 The knight, kindly soothing her, stepped ever onward 
 into the dells and the forest gloom, hearing already the 
 sound of the Bohemians landing on the shore of the 
 island. 
 
 Suddenly he stood before a cave, thickly concealed by 
 bushes, and here the gleam disappeared. " Here, then ! " 
 he whispered, endeavoring to hold the branches asunder, to 
 facilitate Hildegardis's entrance. She hesitated a moment, 
 and then said : 
 
 " Suppose you were to let the branches close again behind 
 me, and I were to be left in the cave alone with specters, 
 Frode ! You will surely follow me — trembling, hunted 
 child as I am? Will you not?" So saying, she stepped 
 trustfully beneath the branches, and the knight, who had 
 intended remaining as a guard without, followed her. 
 Earnestly he listened through the stillness of the night, 
 Ilildogardis scarcely venturing to draw her breath. 
 Presently the tread of an ai'nied man was heard approach- 
 ing, nearer and nearer, till at length it was close before the 
 entrance of the cave. Frode endeavored in vain to free 
 himself from the trembling maiden. The branches at the 
 entrance were already crackling and breaking, and Frode 
 exclaimed, with a sigh : 
 
 " Shall I then fall, like a lurking fugitive, entangled in a 
 woman's garments ? It is an evil end. But can I cast this 
 half fainting maiden from me upon the dark hard earth ? 
 Perhaps into some abyss ? No, come what will ! thou, my 
 lady Aslauga, thou knowest that I die in honor ! " 
 
 " Frode ! Ilildegardis ! " said a gentle, well-known voice 
 at the entrance. And recognizing Edwald, Frode bore the 
 lady toward him into the starlight, saying : " She will die 
 of terror in this deep cavern. Is the enemy near ? " 
 
 "Most of them are lying dead on the shore, or arc 
 
1 1 8 ASLA UGA '/S KNIGHT. 
 
 swimming bleeding through the waves," replied Edwald. 
 " Have no care on that point, and rest yourself. Are you 
 wounded, dear Frode ? " 
 
 He then proceeded to give his astonished hearers the 
 short account of how in the darkness he liad been pressed 
 as a Bohemian into their vessel ; that on landing, it had 
 been easy to him to throw the robbers completely into con- 
 fusion, thinking as they did that they were attacked by 
 one of their own party, and considering themselves be- 
 witched. " They begun at last to fall on each other," 
 said Edwald, as he ended his stoiy, " and we have only 
 now to wait till morning to conduct the lady home. For 
 if any of the owl squadron are still wandering about, they 
 will doubtless hide themselves from the light of day." 
 
 During his relation he had been skillfully and carefully 
 preparing a couch of moss and twigs for Hildegardis ; and 
 when the wearied maiden, with many a gentle word of 
 gratitude, had sunk into a slumber, he began to bind up his 
 friend's wounds as well as the darkness would allow. 
 
 During this serious task, with the tall, dark trees rustling 
 overhead, and the rippling stream in the distance, Frode, 
 in a low voice, informed his brother in arms who was the 
 mistress to whose service he was bound. Edwald listened 
 very thoughtfully, but at last he said tenderly : 
 
 "Believe me, the noble Princess Aslauga would not re- 
 pioach you, if you linked yourself in faithful love to this 
 earthly beauty. Ah ! even now, highly gifted and happy 
 knight, you are, doubtless, a bright vision in the dreams of 
 Hildegardis ! I will not stand in your way with my vain 
 wishes ; it is plainly evident that she can never love me. I 
 will, therefore, this very day set out for the war which so 
 many brave knights of Germany are waging in heathen 
 Prussia : and the black cross, which is their badge as war- 
 riors of the Church, I will bind to my beating heart as its 
 best remedy. And you, dear Frode, take the fair band 
 
ASLAWA'S ENiaHT. 179 
 
 which you have won in fight, and lead a ]ife of surpassing 
 happiness and joy." 
 
 " Edwald," said Frode, very gravely, " this is the first 
 time that I ever heard a word from your lips which an 
 honest knight could not put into effect. Do as you will 
 toward the fair and haughty Ilildegardis, but Aslauga re- 
 mains my mistress, and I desire no other in life or in death." 
 
 The youth was silent at these stern words, and looked 
 abashed ; and both watched through the night in serious 
 thought, without any further conversation between them. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 On the following morning, when the early sun shone 
 brightly and smilingly over the fertile plains around the 
 castle of Hildegardis, the watchman in his tower blew a 
 joyful blast from his silver horn ; for with liis falcon eye 
 he had distinguished far in the distance his beautiful mis- 
 tress as she emerged from the forest between her two de- 
 liverers. And from castle and town and village there came 
 forth many a rejoicing train to certify with their eyes the 
 happy tidings. 
 
 Hildegardis turned to Edwald with eyes bedewed with 
 tears, and said, "Were it not for you, young hero, all 
 these might have souglit long and vainly ere they had 
 found me or had tracked the noble Frode, who undoubt- 
 edly would now be lying stiff and silent, a mangled corpse, 
 in that gloomy cavern." 
 
 Edwald bowed lowly, but persisted in his wonted silence ; 
 indeed it seemed as if an unusual grief repressed the pleas- 
 ant smile which usually met every pleasant word with 
 child-like sweetness. 
 
 The duke, the guardian of Hildegardis, had, in the great 
 joy of his heart, prepared a splendid banquet, and had in- 
 vited all the knights and ladies present to attend it. While 
 
180 ASLAUQA'S KNIGHT. 
 
 Frode and Edwald, in brilliant magnificence, were ascend- 
 ing the steps close behind their rescued lady, Edwald said 
 softly to his friend, "Noble, steadfast hero, you can never 
 love me more ! " And when Fi ode looked at him with as- 
 tonishment, he continued : "Thus it is when children take 
 it into their heads to counsel heroes, however well they may 
 mean it. I have grievously sinned against you ; and against 
 your noble mistress, the Lady Aslauga, still more." 
 
 " Because you would have gladly plucked the flower of 
 your own garden to gladden mine ! " said Frode ; "no, you 
 are now, as ever, my gentle brother in arms, dear Eddy, and 
 you have perhaps become still dearer to me." 
 
 Edwald smiled again, silently happy, like a flower after 
 the morning showers in May. 
 
 Hildegardis glanced mildly and kindly at him, and often 
 conversed graciously with him, while, on the other hand, 
 a reverential awe seemed, since the previous day, to separate 
 her from Frode. But Edwald also was much altered. How- 
 ever modestly and gladly he welcomed the favor of his mis- 
 tress, it yet seemed as if some barrier intervened betw^een 
 them, forbidding him to entertain even the most distant 
 hope of successful love. 
 
 It happened that a noble count from the emperor's court 
 was announced, who, being dispatched on an important mis- 
 sion, wished to pay his respects to the Lady Hildegardis as 
 he passed by. She received him gladly, and as soon as the 
 first salutations were over, he said, looking at her and Ed- 
 wald, "I know not, but perhaps my good fortune may 
 have brought me hither to a very happy festivity. It would 
 be most joyful tidings to the emperor, my master." 
 
 Hildegardis and Edwald looked beautiful in their blush- 
 ing confusion ; and the count, at once perceiving that he 
 had been overhasty, bowed low to the young knight and 
 said, " Pardon me, noble Duke Edwald, for my indiscre- 
 tion, but I know the wish of my sovereign ; and the hope 
 
ASZA UGfA'S KNI&nT. 1 8 1 
 
 of seeing it already accomplished prompted my tongue to 
 speak." 
 
 All eyes were turned inquiringly upon tlie young hero, 
 who answered with graceful embarrassment : " It is true, 
 the emperor, during my last visit to his court, raised me in 
 his infinite favor to the rank of duke. It was my good for- 
 tune that in an encounter some of tlie enemy's horse, who 
 had dared to attack tlie sacred person of the emperor, fled 
 at my approach." 
 
 The count then, at the request of Hildegardis, related tlie 
 Iieroic deed in detail, and it appeared tliat Edwald had not 
 only saved the emperor from tlie most threatening danger, 
 but also, with the cool and bold mind of a general, had soon 
 after gained the decisive victory which had terminated the 
 war. 
 
 Surprise at first sealed every lip, and even before con- 
 gratulations could be expressed, Hildegardis turned toward 
 Edwald and said in a low tone which, however, in the 
 silence, was audible to all : " The noble count has expressed 
 the wish of my imperial uncle, and I will conceal it no 
 longer that tlie wish of my own heart is the same — I am 
 Duke Edwald's bride." So saying, she held out to him her 
 fair right hand, and all present only waited for him to take 
 it before they burst forth in a loud shout of congratulation. 
 Ihit Edwald did not do as they had expected ; sinking down 
 on one knee before his mistress, he said : "God forbid that 
 the honorable Hildegardis should ever retract a word sol- 
 emnly spoken before knights and dames. To no vanquished 
 knight, yon said, might the hand of the emperor's niece be- 
 long, and there stands Erode, the noble Danish knight, my 
 conqueror." 
 
 Hildegardis turned tremblingly away, with a slight blush, 
 and hid her eyes ; and as Edwald rose, it seemed as if a 
 tear were trickling down his cheek. 
 
 Clattering in his armor. Erode strode into the middle of 
 
182 AJSLA VGA'S KNIQHT. 
 
 the hall, exclaiming : " I declare my late victory over Duke 
 Edwald to have been the mere chance of fortune, and I 
 challenge the knightly hero to meet me to-morrow once 
 again in the lists." And as he spoke he threw his brazen 
 gauntlet ringing on the floor. 
 
 But Edwald moved not to take it up. A glow of crim- 
 son anger overspread his cheeks, and his eyes sparkled with 
 indignation, so that his friend would scarcely have recog- 
 nized him. After a pause of some miimtes, he said, 
 " Noble knight. Sir Frode, if I have ever offended you, we 
 are now even. How dare you, a hero gloriously wounded 
 with two sword strokes, challenge a sound man to meet you 
 in the lists to-morrow unless you despise him?" 
 
 " Pardon me, duke," replied Frode, somewhat abashed, 
 but very cheerfully, "I have spoken too boldly. I will 
 summon you when I am completely cured." 
 
 Edwald then took up the gauntlet gladly, and again 
 knelt before Hildegardis, who, with averted face, gave him 
 her hand to kiss ; then taking the arm of his noble Danish 
 friend he walked out of the hall. 
 
 CHAPTER Xni. 
 
 While Frode's wounds were healing, Edwald would 
 wander sometimes, when everything was wrapt in the deep 
 calm of evening, on the flowery terraces under the windows 
 of Hildegardis, singing graceful little songs. Among others 
 he sang the following : 
 
 Heal fast, ye hero-wounds ! 
 
 Be strong once more, brave knight I 
 
 Oh, tarry not too long ! 
 
 To meet me in the fight ! 
 
 But that one, which the maidens in the castle liked best 
 to sing after him, was this : 
 
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 183 
 
 I would that I were lying, 
 
 By some hero slain ! 
 I would that love's soft sighing 
 
 Called me to life again ! 
 I would I were possessing 
 
 Imperial wealth and power ! 
 I would my steps were pressing 
 
 In some wild woodland bower I 
 I would I were an anchorite, 
 
 Or a squire in royal train ; 
 Or that I were that honored knight 
 
 Whose suit were not in vain ! 
 
 It was peAaps the longest song which Edwald had ever 
 sung in all his life. 
 
 At this time it happened that a man who was considered 
 very wise, and who tilled the office of secretary with the 
 old duke, the guardian of Plildegardis, went to the two 
 knightly friends to make, as he said, a humble proposal to 
 them. 
 
 The matter, briefly stated, was this — that as Frode could 
 not possibly gain any advantage from the victory, he might, 
 in the approaching combat, contrive to fall from his horse, 
 and in this way secure the lady for his comrade, at tlie 
 same time fulfilling the wish of his imperial majesty, which 
 would hereafter be sure to be gratefully acknowledged in 
 various ways. 
 
 The two friends at first laughed heartily at this proposal, 
 and then Frode turned gravely toward the secretary and 
 said, " My friend, if the old duke knew of thy folly, he 
 would, it is to be hoped, drive thee from his service for 
 thus talking of the emperor. This one little saying you 
 had better learn by heart : 
 
 When first the knight his saddle prest. 
 Then there was no more talk of jest ; 
 When lance meets lance in deadly fray. 
 The world has little left to say. 
 
184 ASLAUGA'S EKIOHT. 
 
 And tlie fellow who ventures to interpose, 
 The chances are he will lose his nose. 
 
 "Good-night, dear sir; and you may rest assured tliat 
 when Edwald and I meet each other, it will be with all our 
 heart and strength." 
 
 The secretary hastened out of the room, and even on the 
 next morning looked unusually pale. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Soon after this, Frode had recovered from his wounds ; 
 the course was jsrepared as before, only it was crowded by 
 a still greater number of spectators ; and in the freshness 
 of a dewy morning the two heroes rode solemnly together 
 to the combat. 
 
 " Beloved Edwald," said Frode softly, as they went along, 
 " compose yourself befoix'hand, for although to-day the 
 victory cannot be yours, on yor.der rose-colored cloud 
 Aslauga rests." 
 
 " It may be so," replied Edwald, quietly smiling ; "but 
 under that labjn'inth of golden arches shines Hildcgardis, 
 and to-day she has not been waited for." 
 
 The knights took their places, the trumpets sounded, and 
 the course began. Froile's prophecy seemed about to be 
 fulfilled, for Edwald staggered so beneath his stroke that 
 he dropped his bridle ; but seizing the mane with both 
 hands he recovered his balance, while his wild and snow- 
 white steed bore him across the course at a furious pace. 
 Hlldegardis, too, seemed to shrink at this sight, but the 
 youth at length reined in his horse, and the second course 
 was begun. 
 
 Frode shot like lightning across the jilain, and the suc- 
 cess of the young duke seemed hopeless. But in the en- 
 counter the liorse of the bold Dane reared and plunged, the 
 rider staggered, his thrust passed harmless by, and both 
 
ASLA UGA'S KNIGHT. 185 
 
 steed and knight fell clasliing over each other before Ed- 
 wald's steadfast spear, and lay as if stunned upon the field. 
 
 Edwald now did as Frode had done before. In accord- 
 ance with ohivalric custom he remained for a while upon 
 the spot, as if waiting to see if any adversary would dis- 
 pute his victory ; then he sprang from his horse and flew 
 to the help of his fallen friend. 
 
 Eagerly he labored to draw him from the weight of his 
 horso, and Frode, soon reviving, aided in extricating him- 
 self, and raised his charger also. Tiien he lifted up liis 
 visor and smiled kindly at hi:; conqueror, though his face 
 was deadly pale. The victor bowed humbly, almost bash- 
 fully, and said, " Tou, my knight, overthrown ! And by 
 me ! I do not understand it." 
 
 " It was lier own will," answered Frode, smiling. " Come 
 up now to your lovely bride." 
 
 Loudly shouted the multitude around, the dames and the 
 knights bowed low as the old duke led forward the hand- 
 some bridal pair, and they both at his bidding embraced 
 each other, with many blushes, beneath the leafy garlands 
 of the golden bower. 
 
 That very day they were solemnly united in the castle 
 chapel, at Frode's urgent request. A journey into a far 
 distant land, he said, lay before him, and he wislied to be 
 present at the marriage of his friend before he left. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 The torches were burning brightly in the vaulted halls 
 of the castle ; Ilildegardis had just left her husband's arm 
 to begin a dance of honor with the aged duke, when Ed- 
 wald beckoned to his knightly comrade, and both passed 
 out together into the moonlit castle garden. 
 
 " Ah, Frode, my noble, glorious hero," exclaimed Edwald, 
 
186 ASLAU&A'S KNIQHT. 
 
 after a short silence, "were you only as happy as lam! 
 But your eyes rest seriously and thoughtfully on the 
 ground, or glow with an almost impatient glance upward. 
 It would be terrible if you really cherished a secret wish in 
 your heart to wed Hildegardis, and I, a foolish child, fa- 
 vored so mysteriously, stood in your way ! " 
 
 " Be quiet, Eddy," said the Danish hero, with a smile. 
 " On my knightly word, my thoughts and longings concern 
 not your fair Hildegardis. Brighter than ever, Aslauga's 
 golden image shines within my heart. Listen to me, and I 
 will tell you : 
 
 " Just as we met together in the course — oh ! that I had 
 words to express to you all that happened !^I was en- 
 wrapped, encircled, and dazzled by Aslauga's golden hair, 
 in which I suddenly floated — my noble steed too must have 
 seen the apparition, fori felt him start and rear under me. 
 I saw you no more, I saw the world no more, Aslauga's 
 angelic face was alone quite close before me, smiling and 
 blooming like a flower in a sea of sunlight in which it was 
 bathed. My senses failed me. It was only when you ex- 
 tricated me from beneath my horse that I returned to con- 
 sciousness, and I knew to my great joy that lior own 
 gracious will had struck me to tlie ground. I felt, how- 
 ever, a strange weariness, far more than the mere conse- 
 quence of my fall, and at the same time it seemed to nie as 
 if very shortly my mistress would send me on a distant 
 mission. I hastened to repose myself in my chamber and 
 a deep sleep at once overcame me. Then Aslauga appeared 
 to me in a dream, royally adorned as ever, placed herself at 
 the head of my couch, and said, 'Hasten to attire thyself 
 in all the splendor of thy silver armor, for thou art not only 
 a wedding-guest, thou art also the ' 
 
 "And before she had finished speaking, my dream 
 melted, as it were, away, and I felt urgent to follow her 
 gentle command, and was full of joy. But now, in the 
 
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 187 
 
 midst of the festival itself, I seem to myself lonely, as I 
 have never felt in my life, and I cannot cease thinking what 
 the unfinished words of my mistress really intended to 
 announce." 
 
 " You are of a far nobler mind, Frode, than I," said 
 EJwald, after a short silence ; " and I cannot, therefore, 
 soar witli you into your joys. Tell me, though, has it never 
 awakened a deep pang within you, that you serve a mistress 
 so distant from you — alas ! a mistress for the most part 
 ever invisible to you ? " 
 
 " No, Edwald ; not so," replied Frode, with a counte- 
 nance radiant with happiness. " I know well that she does 
 not disdain my service, and I am at times vouchsafed a 
 vision of her. Oh ! I am indeed a happy knight and min- 
 strel ! " 
 
 " And yet your silence to-day, your sad longings ? " 
 
 " Not sad, dear Eddy ; only so fervent, so deep within 
 my heart, and so strangely mysterious. But this, like 
 everything, I feel, springs from these very words and com- 
 mands of Aslauga ; how can it then be anything but beau- 
 tiful and tending to a high and glorious aim ? " 
 
 A squire, who had been dispatched to them, announced 
 that they were awaiting the princely bridegroom for the 
 torch-dance ; and Edwald begged his friend, as they went, 
 to take his place in the solemn dance immediately behind 
 himself and Hildegardis. Frode assented with a friendly 
 nod. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 The horns and hautboys had already given forth their 
 solemn sound ; Edwald hastened to offer his hand to his 
 fair bride, and as he advanced with her into the center of 
 the splendid hall, Frode invited a noble lady who stood 
 next him, but without further obseiTing her, to be his part- 
 
188 ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 
 
 nui- in tlie torcli-dance, and he led lier to tlie next place be- 
 hind the wedded pair. 
 
 But how did he feel when a light began to beam from 
 his companion, a light so bright that his own torch was pale 
 beside it ! He scarcely ventured, in sweet and trembling 
 hope, to cast a glance at the lady, and when he at length 
 did so, his boldest desires and longings were fulfilled. 
 Adorned with a glittering bridal crown set with emeralds, 
 Aslauga danced in solemn loveliness by his side, and 
 beamed on him from, the sunny light of her golden hair 
 with a heavenly and enchanting air. 
 
 The astonished spectators could not turn their eyes from 
 the mysterious pair— the hero in his bright silver armor, 
 wdth his torch uplifted, moving with a measured stej), and 
 with a serious and yet joyful mien, as though he Avere en- 
 gaged in some deej) and secret ceremony ; the lady by his 
 side, floating rather than dancing, emitting light from lier 
 golden hair, so that one might almost have imagined that 
 day was shining in the night, and when an eye could reach 
 her face through all the rich glimmer that surrounded it, 
 the unspeakably sweet smile upon the features delighted 
 heart and sense. 
 
 Toward the end of the dance she bowed graciously to 
 Frode, and whispered to him with an air of confidence, and 
 with the last sound of the horns and hautboys she had 
 vanished. 
 
 None of the most curious of the company had the cour- 
 age to question the Danish knight about his partner, and 
 Ilildegardis did not seem to have perceived the stranger's 
 presence. But shortly before the close of the festival 
 Edwald approached his friend, and asked in a low tone, 
 " Was it " 
 
 " Yes, dear youth," answered Frode, " your wedding- 
 dance has been brightened by the presence of the noblest 
 beauty to be seen in any land. Ah ! and if I have rightly 
 
AliLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 189 
 
 lieard liei- whispers, you will never more see me stand 
 sighing and gazing on the ground. But I scarcely venture 
 to hope it. Now, good-niglit, dear Eddy, good-night. As 
 soon a»I may, you shall hear everything." 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 The light and happy dreams of morning were still float- 
 ing before Edwald, and it seemed to him as if a bright sun- 
 beam were playing round his head. He remembered As- 
 lauga ; but it was not slie, it was Erode, whose helmet of 
 golden locks now glittered no less brightly than his lady's 
 flowing hair. " Ah !" thought Edwald in his dream, 
 " how beautiful has my dear comrade in arms become ! " 
 
 And Erode said to him : " I will sing something to you, 
 Eddy ; softly, so softly, that it may not awaken Hilde- 
 gardis. Listen to me : 
 
 She is come, bright as the day, 
 
 There, wlievo the kniglit in slumber lay. 
 
 Holding in her snow-white hand, 
 
 A plaything, like a moonlit band ; 
 
 And round them both as a circling zone. 
 
 She twined it, singing : " we are one." 
 
 The world lay dark and dreary round. 
 
 As she raised him lifeless from the ground. 
 
 And he stood in a garden, fair to the eyes. 
 
 And the angels called it Paradise. 
 
 " You have never sung so sweetly in your life," said the 
 lialf-dreaming youth. 
 
 ' " That may well be, Eddy," said Erode, with a smile, 
 and disappeared. But Edwald wont on dreaming, and 
 many other visions passed before him, all of a very pleasing 
 kind, although he could not recall them to mind when he 
 opened his eyes, smilingly, on the following morning. 
 Erode alone and his wonderful song stood clearly in his 
 
190 ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 
 
 memory. He now well knew that his friend was dead, but 
 he could feel no sorrow, conscious as he was that the pure 
 spirit of the hero and minstrel could alone find its true joy 
 in the garden of Paradise, and in blissful intercourse with 
 the noble spirits of antiquity. Softly he glided from the 
 slumbering Hildegardis to the chamber of the dead. He 
 lay upon his bed of rest, almost as beautiful as he had ap- 
 peared in the dream, and the golden helmet on his head was 
 entwined with a wonderfully shining lock of hair. Then 
 Edwald made a fair and sheltered grave in consecrated 
 ground, summoned the chaplain of the castle, and with his 
 help laid his beloved Frode within it. 
 
 He came back just as Hildegardis awoke, and when as- 
 tonished at his chastened joy, she humbly asked him where 
 he had been so early, he replied smilingly : " I have just 
 buried my dearly loved Frode, who, this very night, has 
 gone to his golden-haired mistress." 
 
 Then he told Hildegardis the whole story of Aslauga's 
 knight, and he lived on in calm undisturbed happiness, 
 though for a time somewhat more silent than before. 
 
 He was often to be found sitting on the grave of his 
 friend, singing the following song to his lute : 
 
 Aslauga's faithful knight ! 
 
 How dance the glad throng, 
 
 To celestial song, 
 In groves that are golden bright ! 
 
 Send to us from on high. 
 Vouchsafe us from the sky. 
 Many a heavenly gleam. 
 Many a blessed dream, 
 Aslauga's faithful knight ! 
 
SINTEAM AID HIS COMPAIIOIS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 In the high castle of Drontheim many northern knights 
 were assembled to hold council for the welfare of the 
 realm, and were now carousing merrily together far into 
 the night, around the huge stone table in the vaulted and 
 echoing hall. 
 
 The rising storm drove the snow wildly against the rat- 
 tling windows, all of the oaken panels of the doors groaned, 
 the massive locks shook, and the castle clock, after much 
 preliminary noise, struck the hour of one. 
 
 Just then, a boy, pale as death, with disordered hair and 
 closed eyes, rushed into the hall uttering a scream of terror. 
 He stopped behind the ornamented seat of the mighty 
 Kuight Biorn, clung to the glittering hero with both his 
 hands, and cried with a piercing voice : " Knight and 
 Father ! Father and Knight ! Death and some one else 
 are close behind me ! " 
 
 A fearful stillness lay freezingly over the whole assem- 
 bl}^ save that the boy continued screaming the terrible 
 words. 
 
 But an old trooper, one of the Knight Biorn's numerous 
 retainers, surnamed Rolf the Good, stepped forth toward 
 the wailing child, took him in his arms, and sang as if in 
 prayer : 
 
 Help, Father mine, 
 This child of Thine I 
 191 
 
192 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 The boy, as if dreaming, at once loosened bis hold of the 
 great Knight Biorn, and Rolf the Good bore him like a 
 feather out of the hall, though the hot tears were still fall- 
 ing, and there was a continued gentle murmur. 
 
 The lords and knights looked at each other in amazement. 
 
 Presently the mighty Biorn, with a wild and fierce laugh, 
 said, "Do not allow yourselves to be misled by the fancies 
 of a boy. He is my only son, and he has gone on in this 
 way since he was five years old ; he is now twelve. I am 
 well accustomed to it therefore, though at first it made me 
 also rather uneasy. It only happens once every year, and 
 always about this time. But pardon me for having ex- 
 pended so many words on my jioor Sintram, and start 
 some subject more worthy of our discourse." 
 
 There was again a silence. Then here and there a single 
 voice began falteringly and softly to renew the broken 
 thread of conversation, but without success. Two of the 
 youngest and merriest knights began a roundelay ; but the 
 storm howled and whistled and raged so strangely that this 
 also was soon interrupted. 
 
 Then they all sat silent and almost motionless in the 
 lofty hall ; the lamp flickered dimly from the vaulted roof ; 
 the whole knightly assembly were like pale lifeless images, 
 dressed up in gigantic armor. 
 
 Then the chaplain of the castle of Drontheim arose — he 
 was the only ecclesiastic in the whole knightly circle — and 
 said : 
 
 " Dear Sir Biorn, once again our attention has been 
 directed to you and your son in a wonderful manner, 
 decreed most surely by God. You see tliat we cannot 
 divert our minds from the circumstance, and you would 
 do better to tell us exactly what you know of your boy's 
 wonderful condition. Possibly the solemn account, which 
 I anticipate, might be salutary for this somewhat wild 
 assembly." 
 
8INTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 193 
 
 Knight Biorn looked with displeasure at the priest, and 
 replied, " Sir chaplain, you have more share in the history 
 than either you or I could desire. Let us not impose so 
 sad a tale on tliose merry Norwegian warriors." 
 
 The cliaplain, however, approached nearer the knight, 
 and with an air of great firmness, but in a gentle tone, 
 said, " Dear sir, hitherto it rested with you, and with you 
 alone, to relate or not to relate the story ; now, since you 
 have so strangely alluded to my share in your son's mis- 
 fortune, I must positively demand of you that you will in- 
 form us, word for word, how it has all happened. . My honor 
 requires it, and this you will see as plainly as I do myself." 
 
 Sternly, hut assentingly, Biorn bowed his haughty head, 
 and began the following narration : 
 
 "It is seven years ago since I was keeping the Christmas 
 festival with all my assembled retainers. There are many 
 ancient venerable customs, which have been transmitted to 
 us as a heritage from our great ancestors ; as, for instance, 
 til at of placing on the board a beautiful golden boar, and 
 making all sorts of chivalric and merry promises upon it. 
 The chaplain here, who at that time used frequently to 
 visit me, was never a great friend to these remnants of the 
 old heathen ages. Such men as he were not held in high 
 importance in those olden times." 
 
 "My excellent predecessors," interrupted the chaplain, 
 " adhered to God more than to the world, and by God they 
 were held in esteem. In this manner they converted your 
 ancestors, and if I can be of similar service to you, even 
 your ridicule will not affect my heart." 
 
 With a look still darker, and an air of angry dread, the 
 knight continued : " Yes, yes ; promises resting on some 
 invisible Power, and threats too ! And so we suffer to be 
 taken from us the good which is visible and certain ! At 
 that time, ah, then, indeed, I still had such ! Strange ! 
 Sometimes it comes before me as if it were centuries ago. 
 
194 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIOISS. 
 
 and as if I were some old man who had outlived every- 
 thing, so fearfully is everything changed. But now I be- 
 tliink me, the greater part of this noble Round Table have 
 visited me in my days of happiness, and have known Ve- 
 rena, my lovely wife " 
 
 He pressed his hands before his face, and it seemed as 
 though he wept. The storm had ceased ; soft moonbeams 
 shone through the windows, and played as if with kindly 
 and caressing touch around Biorn's wild figure. 
 
 Suddenly he rose, so that his armor clattered fearfully, 
 and he cried out with a thundering voice : " Shall I turn 
 monk, perhaps ; as she has become a nun ? No, crafty 
 chaplain ; your webs are too thin to catch flies of my sort." 
 
 "I know nothing of webs," said the reverend man. 
 " Honestly and openly I have placed heaven and hell 
 before you during six years, and you consented to the step 
 which the pious Verena took. But how all this is con- 
 nected with your son's sufferings, I do not know, and I 
 wait your narration." 
 
 "You may wait long enough!" said Biorn, with an 
 angry laugh. " Sooner shall " 
 
 "Swear not ! " said the chaplain, in a tone of command 
 and with eyes that flashed fearfully. 
 
 " Hurra ! " exclaimed Biorn, in wild affright. " Hurra ! 
 Death and his companions are loose ! " And he dashed out 
 of the chamber in a fury, down the steps ; and outside, the 
 rough and terrible notes of his horn gave a summons to his 
 retainers, who soon afterward were heard galloping away 
 over the frozen court-yard. 
 
 The knights dispersed silently and almost fearfully ; and 
 the chaplain remained alone at the huge stone table, 
 praying. 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPAmONS. 195 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 After some time RoK the Good returned slowly and 
 softly, and stood with amazement at finding the hall de- 
 serted. In the remote chamber in which he had been 
 quieting the child, he had heard nothing of the knight's 
 wild departure. The chaplain informed him of what had 
 occurred, and then said : 
 
 "But, dear Rolf, I should like to ask you about the 
 strange words with which you again lulled poor Sintram to 
 rest. They sounded so pious, and no doubt were so, and 
 yet I did not understand them : 
 
 ' I can, and yet cannot believe.' 
 
 " Reverend sir," replied Rolf. " From my very child- 
 hood, I remember that none of the beautiful stories in the 
 gospel has taken such powerful hold upon me, as that one 
 in which the disciples were not able to heal the child pos- 
 sessed with the devil, and the Saviour at length came down 
 from the mountain where he had been transfigured, and 
 tore asunder the bonds wherewith the evil spirit had held 
 the happy child fast bound. It always seemed to me as if 
 I must have known and cared for that boy, and Iiave been 
 his playfellow in days of health. And when I grew into 
 years, the distress of the father on account of his lunatic 
 son lay heavy on my heart. All this must have been a 
 sort of foreboding of our poor Lord Sintram, whom I love 
 like my own child, and now my heart oftentimes gives 
 vent to the words of the weeping father in the gospel : 
 'Lord, I believe ; help thou mj' unbelief ; ' and something 
 similar I may have sung or prayed to-day in my anxiety. 
 Dear reverend sir, all seems dark to my mind sometimes, 
 when I consider how one fearful imprecation of the fatlier 
 can so cleave to that poor child; but, thank God ! my faith 
 and my hope are fixed above." 
 
190 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPAmONS. 
 
 "Dear Rolf," said the holy man, "I can only partly 
 understand all that you say of the poor Sintrara, for I am 
 ignorant when and how this affliction befell him. If your 
 lips are bound by no oath, nor solemn word, tell me all that 
 is connected with it." 
 
 " Gladly," replied Rolf. "I have long desired to do so. 
 But you have been almost entirely separated from us. 
 Just now I dare not leave my sleeping young master any 
 longer alone, and to-morrow, as early as possible, I must 
 take him to his father. Will j'ou, perhaps, dear sir, come 
 with me to our poor Sintram ? " 
 
 The chaplain at oncetook up the small lamp which Rolf 
 had brought with him, and they went together through 
 the long vaulted passage. 
 
 In tlie small remote chamber they found the poor boy 
 fast asleep. The light of the lamp fell strangely on his 
 pallid features. The cliaplain stood for some time gazing 
 at him thoughtfully, and at last he said : 
 
 " It is true, from his birth he has had sharp and strongly 
 marked features, but now they look almost fearfully so 
 for such a child. And yet one must have a kindly feeling 
 toward him, as he lies sleeping there so soundly, whether 
 one will or not." 
 
 " Quite so, reverend sir," rej^lied Rolf ; and it was 
 evident how his whole heart rejoiced when any word was 
 uttered in favor of his dear young lord. He then placed 
 the light so that it could not disturb the boy, and conduct- 
 ing the holy father to a comfortable seat, he took his place 
 opposite to him, and began to speak as follows : 
 
 " At that Christmas feast of which my lord was talking 
 to you, there was a great deal of discourse between him 
 and his retainers with regard to the German merchants, 
 and how the increasing pride and power of the trading 
 towns was to be kept down. Then Biorn stretched out his 
 hand upon that impious golden boar, and swore to put 
 
8INTBAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 197 
 
 to death without mercy every Grerman trader whom fate, 
 in what way soever, might cast alive into his power. The 
 gentle Verena turned pale, and would have interposed, but 
 it was too late, for the bloody oath was pronounced. And 
 immediately, as if the prince of evil were resolved at once 
 to grasp with strong bonds the vassal who had thus out- 
 lawed himself from the good, a warder entered the hall, 
 and announced that two citizens from some German trad- 
 ing town, an old man and his son, had been cast ashore 
 here, and stood without, craving the hospitality of the 
 lord of the castle. These tidings powerfully affected the 
 knight, still lie felt himself bound by his over-hasty vow 
 and by that accursed heathenish boar of gold. We, his 
 squires, received orders to assemble in the castle yard with 
 our sharply pointed lances and to aim them at the poor, 
 defenseless strangers at a given sign. For the first time, 
 and I hope for the last time, in ray life, I said nay to the 
 orders of my lord. And I uttered it aloud and with hearty 
 determination. The good God, who must certainly know 
 best whom lie will accept and whom lie will not, armed 
 me with resolution and strength. And, you see. Knight 
 Biorn may have perceived whence the opposition of his old 
 servant arose, and that it was to be respected. Half in 
 anger and half in ridicule, he said, ' Go up to my wife's 
 apartments yonder. Her maidens are running anxiously to 
 and fro ; she may be unwell. Go up, Rolf the Good, I tell 
 thee ; thus women shall be with women.' 
 
 " ' You may ridicule, if you like,' I thought ; and I went 
 silently in the direction pointed out to me. On the stairs 
 I met two strange and fearful beings, whom I had never 
 seen before ; I do not know either how they had got into 
 the castle. One was a great tall man, who looked terribly 
 pale and very thin ; the other was a little man with most 
 hideous features and appearance. Indeed, when I collected 
 myself and looked carefully at him, he seemed to me truly — " 
 
198 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 A slight moaning and convulsive movement of the boy 
 interrupted the narration. Hastening to him, Rolf and the 
 chaplain saw an expression of fearful agony on his counte- 
 nance, and that his eyes were struggling to open and could 
 not. The holy father made the sign of the cross over him ; 
 and by degrees the strange state relaxed, the child slept 
 calmly, and they both returned softly back to their seats. 
 
 " You see," said Rolf, " it is not well to describe more 
 accurately those two fearful beings. It is sufficient to tell 
 you that they proceeded down to the court-yard, and I to 
 the chambers of my mistress. The gentle Verena was 
 indeed half fainting with terrible anxiety, and I hastened 
 to assist her with the little knowledge in the healing virtues 
 of herbs and minerals which the good God has bestowed 
 upon me. But scarcely had she revived, than with that 
 calm holy power, which you know belongs to her, she 
 ordered me to conduct her down to the court-yard, saying 
 that she must either put a stop to the horrors of this night 
 or herself perish. We had to pass by the little bed of the 
 sleeping Sintram ; alas ! hot tears fell from my eyes when 
 I saw him lying there so calmly and quietly, and smiling in 
 his peaceful slumbers." 
 
 The old trooper put his hand to his eyes, and wept bit- 
 terly. Then in a more collected manner he continued : 
 
 " We approached the windows of the last flight of steps ; 
 here we could distinctly perceive the voice of the eldest of 
 the two merchants, and through the panes, by the toi-ch- 
 light, we could see his noble countenance, and by his side 
 the youthful head of his son. ' I call Almighty God to 
 witness,' he exclaimed, 'that I intended no evil against this 
 house ! But I must have fallen among heathens, instead 
 of coming to a Christian knight's castle ; and if it be so, 
 thrust at us at once ; and thou, my beloved son, die 
 patiently and steadfastlj^ ; we shall know in heaven where- 
 for it could not be otherwise.' It seemed to me as if I saw 
 
SJNTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 199 
 
 those two fearful forms amid the crowd of retainers. The 
 pale one had a huge sword like a sickle in his hand, the 
 little one held a spear, strangely notched. Verena tore open 
 the window, and cried into the wild night, with her flute- 
 like voice, 'My dearest lord and husband, for the sake of 
 our child have pity on those good men ! Save them from 
 death, and resist the temptations of the evil spirit ! ' The 
 knight answered in his fury — I cannot repeat his words. 
 He staked his child's life, he called Death and the devil to 
 witness, if he did not keep his word — hush ! the boy is 
 starting again. Let rae bring this dark narration briefly to 
 an end. Knight Biorn ordered his followers to strike, and 
 gave the sign with eyes that sparkled so fiercely that he 
 has ever since been called Biorn of tlie Fiery Eyes ; at the 
 same time, the two fearful sti'angers appeared very busy. 
 Then Verena called out, with piercing anguish, ' Help, O 
 God, my Saviour!' And the two fearful figures disap- 
 peared, and wildly, as if blinded, the knight and his retainers 
 rushed against each other, without doing injury to them- 
 selves, but also without being able to strike the defenseless 
 merchants. The latter bowed reverently to Verena, and, 
 as if in silent prayer, passed out of the castle gates, which 
 just now, bursting open with a gust of stormy wind, left 
 the passage into the mountains open. 
 
 " The lady and I stood on the stairs as if bewildered ; 
 then it seemed to me as if I saw the two terrible figures 
 gliding past me softly and mist-like, but Verena called out 
 to me : ' Rolf, did you see the tall pale man and the little 
 hideous one hurrying up the staircase ? I flew after them ; 
 and, alas ! I found the poor boy in just that state in which 
 you saw him a few hours ago. Since then the attack 
 always returns about this time, and the young master is 
 altogether fearfully changed. The lady of the castle saw 
 in the whole occurrence the visible punishment and assertion 
 of the powers of Heaven, and as the Knight Biorn, instead 
 
200 SINTRAM AND SIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 of repenting, ever became more and more Biorn of the Fiery 
 Eyes, she resolved to retire to a cloister, where solitary and 
 alone she could pray for the eternal happiness and temporal 
 deliverance of herself and her poor child ! " 
 
 Rolf paused, and the chaplain, after some reflection, said, 
 " I can now understand why, six years ago, Biorn confessed 
 his sinfulness to me without more comment, and consented 
 that his wife should take the veil. Some remnant of shame 
 must then have stirred within him, and perhaps it stirs 
 within him yet. At all events, so tender a flower as Verena 
 was not fit to remain longer in such a tempestuous atmos- 
 phere. But who is there now to watch over and protect 
 the poor Sintram ? " 
 
 " The prayers of his mother," replied Rolf. "Reverend 
 sir, when the early light of morning spreads over the sk3', 
 as it now does, and the morning breezes whisper through 
 the gleaming window — ^it always stems to me as if I w-ere 
 looking at the beaming eyes of my mistress, and as if I 
 heard the sweet tones of her voice. The holy Verena, next 
 to God, is our help." 
 
 " And our devout supplications to the Lord, also," added 
 the chaplain ; and he and Rolf knelt in tlie early morning 
 in silent and fervent prayer by the bed of the pale boy, 
 who began to smile in his dreams. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 The sun was shining brightly into the room, when Sin 
 tram, awakened by its rays, started up. He looked angrily 
 at the chaplain, and said: "So there is a priest in the 
 castle? And j'et that wicked dream dares to torment me 
 in his very presence ? He must be a pretty priest ! " 
 
 "My child," replied the chaplain, with great gentleness, 
 " I have prayed very heartily for thee, and will never cease 
 to do so, but God alone is almighty." 
 
MNTRAM AND SIS COMPANIONS. 201 
 
 " Tou speak very familiarly to the son of the Knight 
 Biorn ! " cried Sintram. "My child! and thee! If those 
 horrible dreams had not again been haunting me, you would 
 make me laugh heartily." 
 
 "Young Lord Sintram !" said the chaplain, "that you 
 do not know me again, in no way surprises me ; for, in 
 truth, I do not know you again." And his eyes were moist 
 with tears as he spoke. 
 
 Rolf the Good, howevei-, looked sorrowfully in the boy's 
 face, saying, " Ah, dear young lord, you are so much bet- 
 ter than you assume to be ; why do you do so ? And do 
 you not really recollect any longer — for your memory is 
 generally so good — the good kind chaplain, who used to 
 come so often to our castle and give you bright pictures of 
 saints and beautiful songs ? " 
 
 " I remember that well," replied Sintram, thoughtfully. 
 " My sainted mother was alive then." 
 
 " Our gracious lady is still living, God be praised ! " said 
 Rolf, smiling. 
 
 " Not for us — not for us sick creatures ! " exclaimed Sin- 
 tram. " And why will you not call her sainted ? She 
 surely knows nothing of my dreams ! " 
 
 "Yes, she does know of them, young master!" said the 
 chaj)lain. " She knows of them and supplicates God for 
 you. But take heed of that wild haughty temper of yours. 
 It might, alas ! it might some day be that she might know 
 nothing of your dreams. And that would be if you were 
 cast out body and soul ; then the holy angels also would 
 know nothing more of you." 
 
 Sintram sank back on his bed as if thunderstruck, and 
 Rolf said, softly, with a sigh : " You must not speak to my 
 sick child with such severity, reverend sir." 
 
 The boy raised himself again, and turning with tearful 
 eyes to the chaplain, said, " Let him go on, good tender- 
 hearted Rolf ; he knows very well what he is about. 
 
202 SmmAM AND HIS COMPAmoNS. 
 
 Would you reprove him if I were slipping down iiito a 
 snow-cleft, and he drew me roughly out by the hair of my 
 head?" 
 
 The holy father looked at him with emotion and was on 
 the point of giving utterance to some pious thoughts when 
 Sintram sprang from the bed and asked for his father. On 
 being told that he had left, he would not remain an hour 
 longer in the castle, and set aside the fears of the chaplain 
 and the old trooper, who doubted whether so rapid a jour- 
 ney might not prove injurious to his scarcely recovered 
 health, by saying to them : 
 
 " Reverend sir, and you, dear old Rolf, only believe me 
 that if I had no dreams I should be the quietest boy on the 
 face of the earth, and even as it is, I am not far behind the 
 best. Besides, a year hence and my dreams will be at an 
 end." 
 
 On a somewhat imperious sign from the youth, Rolf soon 
 brought out the horse. The boy sprang boldly into the 
 saddle, and bidding the chaplain a courteous adieu, dashed 
 away with the speed of an arrow along the frozen valleys 
 of the snow-covered mountains. 
 
 He had not ridden far with his old trooper when he 
 heard a hollow sound coming from a neighboring rocky 
 cleft ; the sound was like the clapper of a mill, but it was 
 intermingled with groans and tones of distress proceeding 
 from a human voice. They turned their horses in the di- 
 rection of the noise, and a wonderful sight was revealed to 
 them. 
 
 A tall man, deadly pale, in a pilgrim's garb, was vainly 
 using all his efPorts to work his way up the mountain out 
 of the deep snow, and in so doing a mass of bones kept rat- 
 tling, which he wore hanging loosely from his white gar- 
 ment, and this had produced the mysterious knocking 
 above mentioned. 
 
 Rolf, startled at the apparition, crossed himself, and the 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 203 
 
 bold Sintram called out to the stranger : " What are j'ou 
 doing there ? Give an account of your solitary labor !" 
 
 "I live in dying," replied the other, with a fearful grin. 
 
 "Whose are those bones on your garments?" 
 
 "They are relics, young sir." 
 
 " Then you are a pilgrim ? " 
 
 "Restless, reposeless ; to and fro in the earth." 
 
 " You must not perish here in the snow before my eyes." 
 
 " I do not wish to do so." 
 
 " You must mount my horse and ride with me." 
 
 "I will do so." 
 
 And at once he extricated himself from the snow with 
 unexpected strength and agility, and sat behind Sintram 
 on his horse, clasping him tight with his long arms. The 
 horse, frightened at the rattling of the bones, and as if 
 seized with madness, galloped away through the trackless 
 valleys. The boy soon found himself alone with his strange 
 companion ; far in the distance Rolf spurred on his panting 
 horse in vain pursuit. 
 
 Down a snowy precipice, gliding rather than falling, 
 Sintram's horse reached a narrow gorge, and though some- 
 what exhausted, the animal continued to snort and foam as 
 before ; the boy was still unable to master it, yet it changed 
 its breathless course into a wild, irregular trot, and the 
 following conversation began between Sintram and the 
 stranger : 
 
 " Thou pale man, draw thy garments closer ; the bones 
 would not rattle then, and I could curb my horse." 
 
 " It's no use, my boy, it's no use ; it belongs to the nature 
 of the bones." 
 
 " Don't clasp me so tight with thy long arms. Thy arms 
 are so cold." 
 
 " It can't be helped, my boy ; it can't be helped. Be 
 content. My long cold arms are not yet pressing on thy 
 heart." 
 
204 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 "Do not breathe on me so with thy icy breath. It takes 
 all my strength away." 
 
 "I must breathe, my boy ; I must breathe. But do not 
 complain. I am not breathing thee away." 
 
 The strange dialogue ended ; for, contrary to his ex- 
 pectations, Sintram came out ujson an open snowy plain, on 
 which the sun was shining brightly, and at no great dis- 
 tance before him he saw his father's castle. While he was 
 considering whether to invite the mysterious pilgrim to 
 enter, all doubt was removed by the latter throwing him- 
 self suddenly from the horse, which halted in its wild career. 
 Then he turned to the boy and said, raising his forefinger : 
 
 " I know old Biorn of the Fiery Eyes very well ; per- 
 haps only too well. Remember me to him. He need not 
 know my name. He will recognize me by description." 
 
 So saying, the pale stranger turned into a thick grove 
 of firs and disappeared, rattling among the intertwined 
 branches. 
 
 Slowly and thoughtfully Sintram rode on toward his 
 father's castle, for his much exhausted horse had now be- 
 come quite quiet. He scarcely knew what he ought to tell 
 of his wonderful journey, and what not ; moreover, his 
 heart was oppressed with anxiety for the good Rolf, whom 
 he had left behind. 
 
 Presently he found himself at the castle gate, before 
 he had fully thought over the matter. The drawbridge was 
 lowered, the portals were thrown open ; a squire conducted 
 the youth into the large hall, where Knight Biorn was sit- 
 ting all alone at a huge table with many flagons and drink- 
 ing-glasses before him and suits of armor ranged around 
 him. It was a sort of daily habit with him, by way of 
 company, to have the armor of his ancestors, with closed 
 visors, placed around his table. 
 
 Tlie father and son began to converse as follows : 
 
 "Where is Rolf?" 
 
8INTBAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 20S 
 
 " I don't know, father. He left me in the mountains." 
 
 "I will have Rolf shot for not taking better care of my 
 only child." 
 
 " Well, then, father, you can have your only child shot 
 too, for I could not live without Rolf ; and if an arrow or 
 a dart is aimed at him, 1 will throw myself in the way of it, 
 and shield his true and good heart with my fickle breast." 
 
 " Indeed ! Then Rolf shall not be shot, but I shall send 
 him from the castle." 
 
 " Well then, father, you will see mu run away too ; and 
 I will serve him as his faithful squire in forest and mountain 
 and fir-grove." 
 
 " Indeed ! Then Rolf must remain here." 
 
 "That is just what I think, father." 
 
 " Did you ride quite alone ? " 
 
 " No, father, but with a strange pilgrim ; he said he 
 knew you well, or perhaps too well." 
 
 And thereupon Sintram proceeded to relate and to describe 
 everything respecting the pale man. " I also know him 
 very well," said Knight Blorn. " He is half crazed and half 
 wise, as we have sometimes seen strangely blended together 
 in people. But, my boy, go to rest now after your wild 
 journey. You have my word of honor that Rolf shall be 
 received well and kindly, and shall be even sought for in 
 the mountains if he remains long absent." 
 
 " I rely upon you, father," replied Sintram, in a tone half 
 humble, half scornful, as he followed the orders of the 
 gloomy lord of the castle. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Toward evening Sintram woke again. He saw the good 
 Rolf sitting by his bedside, and he smiled with an ajr of 
 unwonted child-like brightness at the kindly face of the 
 true-hearted old man. Soon, however, his dark eyebrows 
 
206 8INTRAM AND EI8 COMPANIONS. 
 
 contracted again with a feeling of indignation, and lie 
 asked : 
 
 " How did my father receive you, Rolf ? Did he say a 
 harsh word to you ? " 
 
 " No, dear young master. He did not speak to me at all. 
 At first he looked angrily at me ; then he checked himself 
 and ordered a squire to bring me food and wine to refresh 
 me, and afterward to conduct me to you." 
 
 "He might have kept his word better. But he is my 
 father, and I must make allowance. I will go now to the 
 evening meal." 
 
 He sprang up at once and threw on his fur mantle. But 
 Rolf cast himself entreatingly in his way, and said: "Dear 
 young master, you would do better to sup in your chamber 
 to-day. There is a guest with your father in whose com- 
 pany I do not like to see you. If you will stay here, I will 
 sing you some beautiful songs." 
 
 "I should have liked that beyond everything in the 
 world, dear Rolf," replied Sintram. " But it is not given 
 me to avoid any man. Tell me, at any rate, whom should 
 I find with my father ? " 
 
 "Ah, young master," said the old man, "you have 
 already met him in the mountains. Formerly, when I used 
 to ride out with the Knight Biorn, we met him occasion- 
 ally ; but I was not allowed to tell you anything about 
 him, and to-day is the first time he has ever come to the 
 castle." 
 
 " Oh, it's the crazy pilgrim ! " replied Sintram, and he re- 
 mained for some time in deep thought, as if considering 
 the matter. At last he roused himself from his abstraction 
 and said, " You good old friend, I like far better to re- 
 main quite alone with you this evening, and to hear vour 
 songs and stories ; and all the pilgrims in the world should 
 not entice me from this quiet room. There is only one 
 thing which makes me hesitate. I have a kind of awe of 
 
8INTBAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 207 
 
 tliat pale, tall man, and no knight's son may suffer sncli a 
 feeling to master him. Don't be angry, Rolf, but I must 
 positively look into the strange face of that pilgrim." 
 
 And as he said this, he opened the door of his apartment, 
 and with firm and ringing steps proceeded to the hall. 
 
 The pilgrim and the Knight Biorn were sitting opposite 
 to each other at the large table, on which many tapers 
 were still burning ; and it was strange to see those two tall 
 pale figures move, and eat and drink among the lifeless 
 armor that surrounded them. 
 
 When the pilgrim looked up at the boj's entrance, 
 Knight Biorn said, " You know him already ; he is my 
 only child, and your fellow-traveler tliis morning." 
 
 The pilgrim fixed his eye upon Sintram for some time, 
 and then replied, shaking his head, " That I didn't know 
 till now ! " 
 
 Then the boy burst forth impatiently, "Now I must 
 confess that you are most uf^'air ! You say you believe you 
 know my father only too well ; and me, it seems, you know 
 only too little. Look me in the face. Who was it allowed 
 you to ride on his horse with him, and whose good steed 
 did you make almost wild in return ? Speak, if you can ! " 
 
 Knight Biorn smiled and shook his head, but seemed 
 well satisfied, as was his wont, with his son's wild behavior ; 
 the pilgrim, on the contrary, shuddered as if alarmed by 
 the threatening presence of some fearful and irresistible 
 power. At last, in an almost fearful tone, he brought out 
 the words : " Yes, yes, my dear young knight, you are per- 
 fectly right ; you are perfectly right in everything which it 
 may please you to advance." 
 
 The lord of the castle laughed aloud at this, and ex- 
 claimed, " Why, thou pilgrim, thou mysterious man, what 
 is become of all thy strange sayings and fine warnings ? 
 Has the boy made thee all at once dumb and powerless? 
 Beware, thou prophet-messenger, beware ! " 
 
208 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 But the pilgrim cast a fearful look on the Knight Biorn, 
 which almost threatened to extinguish the light of his fieiy 
 eyes, and said in a solemn and thundering voice, "Be- 
 tween me and thee, old man, it is another thing. We have 
 nothing to reproach each other with. And hearken : I 
 will sing a song to thee on the lute." He stretched out his 
 hand to the wall, and took down a forgotten and half- 
 strung lute which hung there ; then placing it in order 
 with wonderful power and skill, he touched a few chords, 
 and began the following song to the deep and melancholy 
 tones of the instrument : 
 
 The flower was mine, it was mine own I 
 But I trifled witli my sacred right, 
 I became a slave and not a knight, 
 Through sin, through sin alone. 
 The flower was thine, it was thine own ! 
 Why didst tliou not hold fast thy right ? 
 Thou slave of sin — no longer knight 1 
 Now thou art fearfully alone ! 
 
 "Beware ! " cried he, with a shrill voice as he concluded, 
 at the same time pulling the strings so violently that they 
 all broke with a plaintive wail, and a cloud of dust rose 
 strangely from the old lute, enveloping the singer as in a 
 mist. 
 
 Sintram had been watching him keenly during the song, 
 and it appeared to him at last inconceivable that this man 
 and his fellow-traveler could be one and the same. Indeed, 
 the doubt rose almost to certainty when the stranger again 
 looked at him with a sort of timid fear, and, making many 
 excuses and low reverences, hung the lute in its old place, 
 and then ran fearfully out of the hall ; affording in every 
 look and action a strange contrast to the haughty solemn 
 air as he had assumed toward the Knight Biorn. 
 
 The boy's eye now fell upon the knight, and he saw that 
 he had fallen back on his seat senseless, as if struck by a 
 
8INTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 209 
 
 blow. Sintram's cries called the good Rolf and other 
 attendants to the hall ; and after much care and united 
 effort, they succeeded in reviving the lord of the castle, 
 though his looks [still remained wild and excited, and he 
 allowed himself to be put to rest quietly and submissively. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 This strange attack was followed by an illness, in which 
 the hitherto robust old knight was constantly delirious, 
 though he asserted all the while that he must and should 
 recover. He laughed scornfully at his attacks of fever, and 
 rebuked them for venturing to assail him so unneces- 
 sarily. 
 
 Then he would often murmur to himself, " That was 
 not the right one, that was not the right one ; there must 
 be yet another out in the cold mountains." At these 
 words Sintram always involuntarily shuddered. They 
 seemed to confirm his own opinion that the man who had 
 ridden with him, and the man who had sat at table in the 
 castle, were two perfectly distinct persons ; and he knew 
 not why, but this thought was excessively terrible to him. 
 
 Knight Biorn recovered, and seemed to have entirely 
 forgotten the whole circumstance of the pilgrim. He 
 hunted in the mountains, he engaged in many a wild 
 quarrel ; and Sintram, as he grew up, became his almost con- 
 stant companion, developing as he did every year more 
 and more a fearful strength of body and of mind. Many 
 a one feared the look of his pale sharp features, his dark 
 rolling eyes, his tall, muscular, and somewhat lean figure ; 
 and yet no one hated him, not even those [whom he had 
 insulted or injured in his wildest moods. Possibly this 
 may have proceeded from the kindly presence of the old 
 Rolf, who ever retained a gentle influence over him ; but 
 most of those who had known the Lady Verena before she 
 
210 SIN TRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 retired from the world, asserted that there was a faint re- 
 flection of the mother's grace floating over the dissimilar 
 features of her son, and that this attracted them to the 
 youth. 
 
 One day — it was the beginning of spring — Biorn and his 
 son had been hunting on the sea-coast, on the territory of 
 another chieftain ; and this, less for the love of sport than 
 to bid defiance to a hated neighbor, and so perhaps to ex- 
 cite a feud. At this period, when his yearly fearful attack 
 had passed off, Sintram was as usual even more wild and 
 eager for combat than was his wont. It irritated him 
 much on this day that his adversary did not come out of 
 his castle to make armed resistance to their hunting ; and 
 in the wildest words the youth cursed his tame patience 
 and weak love of peace. Just then a young reckless horse- 
 man of his suite galloped joyfully up, shouting : 
 
 " tJalm yourself, my dear young lord ! I will wager that 
 all will be as you and we desire. I was following a 
 wounded deer on the seashore, when I saw a sail approach- 
 ing, and a vessel filled with armed men. There is no doubt 
 your enemy means to fall upon you on the coast." 
 
 Joyfully and secretly Sintram called all his hunting 
 companions together, resolved this time to take the con- 
 test into his own hands, and then victoriously to rejoin his 
 father, and to surprise him with his prisoners and captured 
 weapons. 
 
 Well acquainted with all the hollows, glens, and cMs 
 of the coast, the hunters quickly concealed themselves in 
 the neighborhood of the landing-place, and the strange 
 vessel soon approached with its swelling sails, anchored 
 quietly in the bay, and the men began to disembark in 
 imagined security. 
 
 Foremost of all appeared a knight of splendid and noble 
 bearing, arrayed in blue steel armor richly inlaid with gold. 
 His uncovered head — for he carried_his costly golden helmet 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 211 
 
 hanging on liis left arm — looked royally around, and his 
 countenance was fair to look upon, with his dark-brown 
 hair and his well-trimmed mustache, beneath which miglit 
 be caught a glimpse of a smiling mouth and two rows of 
 pearly teeth. 
 
 It seemed to the young Sintram as if he had seen this 
 knight somewhere before, and he stood for a time motion- 
 less. Suddenly, however, he raised his arm to give the 
 concerted signal for attack. In vain the good Rolf, who 
 had with diifioulty succeeded in. reaching the wild youth, 
 whispered in his ear that these were not the enemies 
 they were expecting, but unknown, and certainly noble 
 strangers. 
 
 " Let them be who they may," murmured the angry 
 Sintram in reply, " they have excited me to foolish waiting, 
 and they must pay for it. Don't oppose me if you value 
 your life and mine." 
 
 And immediately he gave the signal, and thick as hail a 
 shower of javelins whizzed on every side, and the northern 
 warriors rushed forward, with their flashing weapons. 
 
 They found their adversaries as brave as they could have 
 desired, and perhaps still more sa. Soon more of the 
 attacking than of the attacked had fallen, and the stranger 
 seemed to understand surprisingly the northern mode of 
 fighting. 
 
 The knight in the gorgeous armor had not been able in 
 his haste to put on his helmet, but it seemed also as if he 
 did not consider it worth the trouble. His gleaming sword 
 protected him surely enough. He parried the flying darts 
 with a, movement quick as lightning, and dashed them 
 away with such violence that they fell to the ground 
 shivered to fragments. 
 
 Sintram had at first not been able to approach him ; for 
 all his followers, eager to take so noble a prey, had thronged 
 around the brilliant knight ; but now wherever the stranger 
 
212 8INTRAM AND HIS GOMPANIONB. 
 
 turned the way was sufficiently cleared, and Sintram spi-ung 
 toward him with his sword upraised, shouting a battle- 
 ciy. 
 
 " Gabrielle ! " exclaimed the knight, intercepting with 
 ease the violent thrust, and striking the youth to the 
 ground ; then kneeling down on his fallen foe, he di'ew 
 forth a glittering dagger and held it before him. Like 
 massive walls, his followers in a moment stood around him ; 
 Sintram seemed lost without hope of deliverance. 
 
 He determined to die as became a bold warrior, and un- 
 moved he gazed at the fatal weapon with a steady, unflinch- 
 ing eye. 
 
 As he lay now thus looking upward it seemed to him as 
 if suddenly there appeared on the horizon a AVonderfuUy 
 beautiful female form in azure garments gleaming with 
 gold. 
 
 " Our ancestors were right in their tales of the Valky- 
 rias ! " murmured he. " Strike, unknown conqueror ! " 
 
 But the knight did not strike, and no Valkyrias had 
 appeared ; it was the beautiful wife of the stranger, who 
 had just come up to the upper deck of the vessel and had 
 thus fallen into Sintram's view. 
 
 " Folko," cried she, in a sweet voice ; " thou knight with- 
 out reproach ! I know that thou wilt spare the van- 
 quished ! " 
 
 The knight sprung up with noble grace, extended his 
 hand to the conquered youth, and said : " Thank tbee, noble 
 lady of Montfaucon, for your life and liberty. If, however, 
 you are so totally devoid of all that is good that you wish 
 to begin the contest again, I am ready, but you must strike 
 first ! " 
 
 Sintram sunk on his knees, overwhelmed with shame, 
 and wept, for he had long heard of the great deeds of his 
 distant relative, the French Knight Folko of Montfaucon, 
 and of the grace of his gentle Lady Gabrielle. 
 
SIN TEAM AND HIS C0MPALI0N8. 213 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 The Baron of Montfaucon looked witli astonishment at 
 his strange adversary ; but as he gazed at him more and 
 more, remembrances rose within him, calling to Ids mind 
 the northern race from which his ancestors were descended, 
 and with whom he had always maintained friendly inter- 
 course. A golden bear's claw fastening Sintram's cloak 
 confirmed his suspicions. 
 
 "Have you not," he asked, "a valiant cousin, called the 
 Sea King Arin Biorn, who wears on his helmet a golden 
 vulture-wing? and is not your father the Knight Biorn? 
 for I think the bear's claw on your breast must be the 
 heraldic badge of your race.'' 
 
 Sintram assented to all this in deep and humble shame. 
 
 The Knight of Montfaucon raised him from the ground 
 and said in a grave, gentle tone : " We are then related 
 to each other, but I had never thought that any one of our 
 honorable house could have attacked a peaceful man with- 
 out provocation, and, moreover, without warning." 
 
 " Slay me," replied Sintram, " if I am still worthy to die 
 by such noble hands ; I have no desire to see the light of 
 day any longer." 
 
 " Because you have been conquered ? " asked Montfauaon. 
 
 Sintram shook his head. 
 
 " Or because you have committed an unknightly act ?" 
 
 The youth's blush of shame expressed assent. 
 
 "You must not wish to die on that account," continued 
 Montfaucon, "but far rather to make amends for your 
 fault and to render yourself illustrious by many glorious 
 deeds. See, you are blessed with valor and sti-ength of 
 limb, and moreover with the eagle glance of a general. I 
 would dub you a knight at once, had you fought as well in 
 a good cause as you have in a bad one. Let me soon have 
 
214 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONB. 
 
 occasion to do so. You may yet become' a hero full of 
 honor." 
 
 A merry sound of pipes and silver cymbals interrupted 
 the conversation. Gabrielle, beautiful as the morning, dis- 
 embarked, followed by her maidens, and being informed by 
 Folko in a few words respecting his late adversary', she re- 
 garded the whole contest as a mere trial of arms, saying : 
 
 " You must not let it vex you, noble sir, that my husband 
 has won the prize, for you must know that in the whole 
 world there is only one hero over whom the lord of Mont- 
 faucon cannot boast of victory. And who knows," she 
 continued, half -jestingly, "whether even that would have 
 been so but that he presumed to win back the magic ring 
 from me who had been alloted to him as a bride by the will 
 of God and by the choice of my own heart." 
 
 Folko bent smiling over the snow-white hand of his lady 
 and then begged the youth to conduct him to his father's 
 castle. Rolf undertook with great pleasure to supeiintend 
 the disembarkation of the horses and other valuables, for 
 it seemed to him that an angel in woman's form had ap- 
 peared to soften his beloved young master, and perhaps 
 even to free him from that early curse. 
 
 Sintram had sent messengers in all directions to seek his 
 father and to announce to him the arrival of the noble 
 guests. They therefore found the Knight Biorn already 
 in his castle, and everything arranged for a festive recep- 
 tion. Gabrielle entered the lofty gloomy building with a 
 feeling of awe, and looked with still greater fear at the 
 rolling fiery eyes of its master ; now even the pale dark- 
 haired Sintram appeared to her terrible, and she sighed 
 within herself : 
 
 " Oh ! what an awful abode, my knight, hast thou 
 brought me to visit ! Oh ! that we were at home once more 
 in my sunny Gaseony, or in thy knightly Normandy ! " 
 
 But the grand and noble reception, the deep reverential 
 
BIN TRAM AND SIS COMPANIONS. 215 
 
 respect paid to her grace and to Kniglit Folko's lonown 
 tended to reassure her, and soon her butterfly delight in all 
 that was new was pleasantly awakened by the unwonted 
 aspect of everything in this strange world. Besides, any 
 womanly fear could but trouble her for a moment when 
 her lord was near. She knew too well the powerful pro- 
 tection afforded by the noble Baron of Montfaucon to all 
 that were dear to liim or commended to his charge. 
 
 Presently Rolf passed through tlie large hall in "which 
 they were seated, conducting the attendants of the stran- 
 gers and their baggage up to their apartments. As they 
 went by, Gabrielle caught sight of her favorite lute, and 
 ordered a page to bring it to her, that she might see if her 
 precious instrument had in any way suffered from the sea 
 voyage. As she bent over it, tuning it with eai'nest atten- 
 tion, and her taper fingers ran up and down the strings, 
 a smile like the light of spring passed over the dark coun- 
 tenances of Biorn and Sintram,. and both exclaimed with an 
 involuntary sigh : 
 
 " Oh ! if she would play and sing to it, that would be 
 delightful ! " 
 
 The lady felt flattered, and looked smilingly at them, 
 nodded a gracious assent, and sang, as she touched her 
 lute : 
 
 When the flowers come back 
 In the merry May, 
 And the glad bh-ds sing. 
 In the jocund spring, 
 Yet one, alas ! one is away I 
 
 That one, ah ! well do I know its name, 
 But I cannot, I will not tlie sound disclose, 
 For the love that I bore it, none else may claim 
 Though the heart that it loved, it no longer knows. 
 
 Oh ! nightingale, tune not so sweetly thy voice 
 On the blossoming, lovely spray ; 
 
216 SINTRAM AND EI8 COMPANIONS. 
 
 My lieart swells with sadness and cannot rejoice 
 As thy cadence falls softly and gay ; 
 Tune less sweetly thy voice I 
 
 For we hail the flowers, 
 And the welcome showers. 
 Of blooming May ; 
 But the one alone 
 Alas ! once my own, 
 Is forever away. 
 
 The two Norwegians sat lost in sad reflection ; Sintram's 
 eyes especially sparkled with a soft luster, a faint blush 
 overspread his cheeks, and his features assumed a subdued 
 expression, giving him almost the appearance of a glorified 
 spirit. The good Rolf, who had paused to listen to the 
 song, was heartily delighted at this, and raised his old 
 faithful hands in fervent gratitude to heaven. 
 
 Gabrielle, however, in her astonishment could not take 
 her eyes from Sintram. At last she said : 
 
 "My young friend, now tell me what has touched you 
 so much in this little song ? It is nothing at all but a 
 simple lay of the spring, full of the images which that 
 sweet season, with its thousand changes and revivals, ever 
 calls forth in my country." 
 
 " Have you such a home, so wonderfully beautiful and 
 so rich in song ? " exclaimed Sintram with enthusiasm. 
 " Then I am no longer surprised at your unearthly beauty, 
 nor at the power which you exercise over my hard, wiM 
 heart ; for a Paradise of song must surely send such angelic 
 messengers to calm the chaos that pervades the world." 
 And as he spoke, he sank on both knees before the beauti- 
 ful lady in deep humility. 
 
 Folko smiled approvingly, but Gabrielle appeared em- 
 barrassed, and as if she scarcely knew what to do with the 
 half wild, half tamed young Northman. After a moment's 
 
8INTRAM AND IlIS COMPANIONS. 217 
 
 reflection, however, she held out to him her fair hand, 
 and said, as she gently raised him : 
 
 "Any one who finds so much pleasure in song, must cer- 
 tainly know how to awaken it himself. Take my lute and 
 let us hear some sweetly inspired lay." 
 
 But Sintrani gently refused the delicate instrument, 
 and said : 
 
 " Heaven forhid my manly hand should touch these ten- 
 der strings ! Were I even to begin some soft, melodious 
 strain, yet at last as the music swells, the wild spirit that 
 dwells within me would burst forth, and there would be an 
 end of this magic lute. No, allow me to fetch my own 
 powerful harp, with its strings of bears' sinews and its 
 brass mountings. For, in truth, I feel myself inspired both 
 to play and to sing ! " 
 
 Gabrielle whispered a half smiling, half fearful assent, 
 and Siutram speedily procured his wonderful harp, and 
 began to strike its deep-toned strings with a strong touch, 
 and to sing, with a voice no less powerful, the following 
 song : 
 
 " Knight, whitber away in the raging gale ! " 
 " To a southern shbre I hoist my sail." 
 Heigh-ho ! for the land with the heautif ul flowers ! 
 
 "I have traversed enough of the frozen snow. 
 Through clovered meadows I now will go." 
 Heigh-ho ! for the land with the beautiful flowers I 
 
 The stars guide him by night and the sun by day, 
 Till he anchors in glorious Napoli's bay. 
 Heigh-ho ! for the land with the beautiful flowers ! 
 
 There wanders an exquisite girl on the strand. 
 Her hair is entwined with a golden band. 
 Heigh-ho ! for the land with the beautiful flowers ! 
 
 " Good-day, good-day, to thee, fairest one. 
 My bride thou shalt be ere setting sun." 
 Heigh-ho ! for the land with the beautiful flowers I 
 
218 8INTRAM AND HIS COiJPANIONS. 
 
 " Nay, Sir Knight, thy wooing I must reject, 
 A Margrave has made me his bride elect." 
 Heigh-ho ! for the land with the beautiful flowers ! 
 
 " Let him come then and try his sword with me, 
 And the combat shall show who possesseth thee ! " 
 Heigh-ho ! for the land with the beautiful flowers ! 
 
 " Oh ! see 'mid the beautiful maidens around, 
 Another in whom fairer graces abound ! " 
 Heigh-ho ! for the land with the beautiful flowers 1 
 
 " Nay, nay ! upon thee have I centered my love. 
 And no power exists which its force can remove." 
 Heigh-ho ! for the land with the beautiful flowers ! 
 
 Then came the young Margrave, revengeful and sore. 
 And the Northman's good sword laid him low in his gore. 
 Heigh-ho ! for the land with the beautiful flowers ! 
 
 And then the glad hero exullingly cried : 
 " Now, now, all are mine, lands, castle, and bride ! " 
 Heigh-ho ! for the land with the beautiful flowers ! 
 
 Sintram ceased, but his eyes sparkled wildly, and the 
 strings of his harp ever kept reverberating in a kind of 
 marvelous cadence. Biorn had drawn himself haughtily 
 erect in his chair, and stroked his huge mustache and rattled 
 his sword as if with pleasure. 
 
 Gabrielle trembled at the wild song and at these strange 
 beings, but the fear only lasted till she cast a glance at* Sir 
 Folko of Montfaucon, who was sitting smiling in all his 
 knightly strength, letting the rude uproar rage around him 
 like the hurly-burly of some autumnal storm. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Some weeks after this Sintram came down to the castle 
 garden one evening in the twilight, in a state of great dis- 
 composure. However much Gabrielle's presence might 
 
SINTRAM AND EIS GOMPANIONS. 219 
 
 soothe and calm his mind, the fearful wildness of his nature 
 returned if she disappeared for a moment from the social 
 circle. Just now, after having long and kindly read aloud 
 some ancient heroic tales to the elder Biorn, she had retired 
 to her own apartments. The tones of her lute were dis- 
 tinctly to be heard in the garden below, but it seemed as if 
 these very sounds drove the wild youth still more impetu- 
 ously through the shades of the time-honored elms. 8toop- 
 ing under some thickly-grown branches, he came unexpect- 
 edly close upon something with which he almost fell into 
 collision, and which appeared to him at first sight like a 
 little bear, standing on its hind legs, with a long and 
 strangely crooked horn on its head. He started back with 
 alarm, but it addressed him in a harsh, human voice : 
 
 " Young knight, brave young knight, whence come you ? 
 Whither are you going ? And why so frightened ? " And 
 Sintram now for the first time saw that he had before him 
 a little old man, wrapped up in a rough fur garment, which 
 almost entirely concealed his features, and he wore a long 
 and strange-looking feather in his cap. 
 
 " Whence come you ? And whither are you going ? " 
 replied Sintram, indignantly. " Such questions are befitting 
 for me to ask. What are you doing in our castle garden, 
 you ugly little man ? " 
 
 " Well, well," said the other, laughing, " I am thinking 
 that I am quite big enough as I am. One cannot always be 
 a giant. And besides, what do you find amiss in my going 
 on a snail-hunt here ? Snails do not surely belong to the 
 game, which you, with your experienced valor, have reserved 
 as sport for yourselves alone. I, on the other hand, know 
 how to prepare them a delicious aromatic drink, and I have 
 already caught sufficient for to-day ; marvelous fat little 
 creatures, with wise faces like men, and long twisted horns 
 on their heads. Will you look, young master ?" 
 
 And so saying, he unbuttoned and unhooked his fur 
 
220 8INTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 mantle, but Sintram, seized -witli horror and disgust, 
 exclaimed : 
 
 " Pshaw ! Such animals are repulsive to me ! Let them 
 alone, and tell me instead who and what you really are 
 yourself." 
 
 " Are you so bent upon names ? " replied the little man. 
 " Let it content you that I am a master of the most secret 
 lore, and am well acquainted with the oldest and most intri- 
 cate histories. Ah ! young master, if you would only hear 
 them once ! But you are afraid of me ! " 
 
 " Afraid of you ? " said Sintram, with a wild laugh. 
 
 " Many a better man than you has been so," murmu)-ed 
 the little master ; "only they would confess to it just as 
 little." 
 
 " To prove the contrary to you," said Sintram, " I will 
 remain with you till the moon is high in the heavens. But 
 then you must tell me your stories." 
 
 The little man gave a nod of satisfaction, and while they 
 both paced up and down a retired elm-walk he, began as 
 follows : 
 
 " Many hundred years ago there was a handsome young 
 knight called Paris of Troy, and he lived in the burning 
 lands of the South, where there are the sweetest songs, the 
 most aromatic-smelling iJowers, and the most charming 
 women. You know a song about that land, young sir, do 
 you not ? ' Heigh-ho ! for the land with the beautiful 
 flowers ! ' Isn't it so ? " 
 
 Sintram bowed his head in assent, and his breast heaved 
 a deep sigh. 
 
 " Well," continued the little master, " Paris had a habit, 
 such as is frequent in those countries, and of which very 
 pretty rhymes are often sung : he would pass whole months 
 in the garb of a peasant, and go piping about the woods 
 and fields, pasturing his flocks. One day three beautiful 
 sorceresses appeared to him, disputing about a golden 
 
SINTBAM AND EI8 COMPANIONS. 221 
 
 apple, and they desired to know from him which of tliem 
 was the fairest, for to her the golden fruit was to belong. 
 The first knew how to obtain thrones and scepters and 
 crowns, the second could make people wise, and the third 
 could prepare love-potions and love-charms which could 
 secure the favor of the most beautiful women. Each 
 offered her choicest gifts to the shepherd-knight, that he 
 might award the apple to her. But as fair women pleased 
 him better than anything else in the world, he decided 
 that the third was the most lovely, and her name was 
 Venus. The two others departed in great displeasure, but 
 Venus bid him put on again his knightly armor, and his 
 hat with its waving feathers, and then she conducted him 
 to a splendid fortress in a city called Sparta, where the 
 noble Duke Menelaus ruled with his young Duchess Helen. 
 She was the most beautiful woman upon earth, and the 
 enchantress was ready to bestow her on Paris in gratitude 
 for the golden apple. Paris was well satisfied at this, and 
 wished for nothing better ; only he asked himself how he 
 ought to begin." 
 
 " Paris must have been a fine knight ! " said Sintrara, 
 interrupting the story. " Such things are easily settled. 
 Challenge the husband to fight, and the victor possesses the 
 lady." 
 
 " But Duke Menelaus was the knight's host," said the 
 narrator. 
 
 " Well, little master," exclaimed Sintram, " he might 
 have asked the sorceress for another beautiful woman, and 
 then have saddled his horse, or weighed anchor, and de- 
 parted ! " 
 
 " Yes, yes, it is very easy to say so ! " replied the little 
 old man. " But if you had only seen how bewitching this 
 Duchess Helen was. She was not to be changed for any." 
 And with glowing words he began to depict the beauty of 
 the wonderful woman, but feature for feature was so like 
 
222 8INTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 the image of Gabrielle that Sintram tottered and was 
 obliged to support himself against a tree. The little mas- 
 ter stood opposite to him, laughing, and asked : 
 
 " Well now, should you have still counseled flight to 
 that poor Knight Paris ? " 
 
 " Tell me quickly what happened," stammered out 
 Sintram. 
 
 " The sorceress acted honorably toward the knight," 
 continued the old man. " She told him beforehand that he 
 would carry away the charming duchess to his castle at 
 Troy, that it would be the ruin of himself and his city and 
 his whole race, but that for ten years he would be able to 
 defend himself in Troy and to delight in Helen's sweet 
 love." 
 
 " And he accepted the terms, or he was a fool ! " ex- 
 claimed the youth. 
 
 " Yes, surely," whispered the little master, " he accepted 
 them. And I would have done so myself ! Well, my 
 young hero, things looked then much as they are looking 
 now. Througli the thickly intertwined branches of the 
 trees, the moon, just passing from beneath the clouds, was 
 shining in the silent twilight. Leaning against an old tree, 
 just as you are doing now, stood the slender ardent Knight 
 Paris, and by his side was the enchantress Venus, but so 
 disguised and transformed that she did not look much 
 more beautiful than I do. And in the silvery light of the 
 moon, through the whispering boughs, there appeared the 
 form of a lovely and much desired lady, sweeping along, in 
 solitary meditation." 
 
 He was silent, and like the reflection of his deluding 
 word, Gabrielle just then actually appeared, musing solita- 
 rily as she swept down the avenue of elms. 
 
 "Man! Fearful master! how am I to name you? 
 What do you wish to urge me to ? " whispered the trem- 
 bling Sintram, 
 
8INTBAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 223 
 
 " You know of course your father's mighty stone fortress 
 on the Moon-Rocks ! " replied the old man. " The governor 
 and his men are true and devoted to you ! It would stand 
 a ten year's siege, and the little gate which leads from here 
 to the mountains is open, as was the gate of the citadel in 
 the ducal fortress of Sparta to Paris." 
 
 And truly, through a door in the wall, left open he knew 
 not how, the youth saw in the distance, gleaming in the 
 moonlight, the dim range of mountains. 
 
 "And," said the little master, with a grin, repeating 
 Sintram's former words — " and if he did not accept the 
 terms he was a fool I " 
 
 At that moment, Gabrielle stood close by him. With a 
 slight movement of his arm he could have embraced her ; 
 and a moombeam, suddenly breaking forth, shone like a 
 ray of glory upon her heavenly beauty. The youth had 
 already bent forward toward her. 
 
 Let not the world's turmoil, 
 
 His heart and spirit soil, 
 
 I pray, Oh Lord my God ! 
 
 Call him to thee on high. 
 
 To mansions in the sky. 
 
 Though through anguish be the road ! 
 
 These words were at this moment chanted by the old 
 Rolf, as he lingered in solitary prayer by the castle-lake, 
 full of foreboding care. They reached Sintram's ear, 
 and he stood as if spell-bound, and made the sign of the 
 cross. The little master at once hopped away on one leg, 
 with a strange, awkward rapidity, through the gate, which 
 he closed with a yell after him. 
 
 Terrified at the wild noise, Gabrielle started ; Sintram 
 approached her softly, and said, offering her his arm : 
 " Permit me to accompany you to the castle hall. The 
 night sometimes in our northern hills is somewhat wild and 
 fearful." 
 
224 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 They found the two knights within over their wine. 
 Folko was relating stories in his usual lively and cheerful 
 manner, and Biorn was listening moodily ; but it seemed 
 as if the dark clouds were, almost against his will, giving 
 way to a pleasing sense of comfort. 
 
 Gabrielle greeted her lord with a smile and, signing to 
 him to continue, took her seat near the Knight Biorn with 
 an air of cheerful attention ; Sintram stood sad and dream- 
 like by the hearth, and stirred up the embers, which cast 
 a strange glow upon his pale face. 
 
 "And above all the German trading towns," continued 
 Montfaucon, " that of Hamburg is the richest and the 
 greatest. In Normandy, we are always glad to see their 
 merchants land on our coasts, and are always ready to help 
 the good excellent people by word and deed. I was 
 received with great honor once when I visited Hamburg. 
 Moreover, I found its inhabitants just engaged in a feud 
 with a neighboring count, and I at once used my sword in 
 their behalf with vigor and success." 
 
 " Your sword ! your knightly sword ! " broke forth 
 Biorn, the old fire flashing from his eyes, " against a knight ! 
 And for costermongers ? " 
 
 " Sir," said Folko quietly, " how the barons of Mont- 
 faucon have used their swords has ever rested with them- 
 selves, without the interference of any third person, and I 
 intend to maintain this good custom as I have received it. 
 If you are opposed to it, say so freely. At the same time 
 I forbid any rude word against the men of Hamburg, whom 
 I have already declared to be my friends." 
 
 BiOrn cast down his haughty eyes and the fire faded from 
 them. Then in a low voice he said : " Speak on, noble 
 baron, you are right and I am wrong." 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 225 
 
 Folko held out his hand to him in friendship across the 
 table, and thus coTitinued his narration : 
 
 " The dearest of all my dear friends at Hamburg are two 
 people of marvelous experience — a father and his son. 
 What have they not seen and done in the remotest ends of 
 the earth, and established for the welfare of their native 
 town ? Thanks be to God, my life is not to be called a 
 barren one, but compared to the wise Grotthard Lenz and 
 to his powerful son Rudlieb, I seem to myself like a squire 
 who has been to a couple of tournaments, and has perhaps 
 in the chase reached the uttermost boundary of his own 
 forests. They have converted, overcome, gladdened, dark 
 men in lands whose name I do not know, and the riches 
 they have brought back with them they have dedicated to 
 the common good, as though there were nothing else to do 
 with it. On their return home from their bold voyages 
 they hastened to a hospital established by them, and there 
 they act as overseers and as watchful, humble nurses. 
 Then they select building- ground for handsome towers and 
 fortresses, which they erect for the protection of their 
 country ; then, again, they inspect houses in which the 
 wandering pilgrim finds a hospitable resting-place ; and, 
 lastly, in their own home, they entertain their guests, rich 
 and noble as kings, and simple and unconstrained as shep- 
 herds ; and many a tale of their adventures gives a relish to 
 the choice viands and the costly wine ; among others they 
 have told me one at which my hair stood on end, and per- 
 haps I can here gather closer information from you with 
 regard to the occurrence. It was many years ago, just at 
 the holy Christmas season, that Gotthard and Rudlieb were 
 wrecked on the Norwegian coast during a violent storm ; 
 they cannot accurately declare the position of the rocks on 
 which their vessel struck ; but so much is certain, that not 
 far from the spot the towers of a strong knightly castle 
 rose, and father and son repaired thither to request assistance 
 
226 8INTBAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 and refreshment, such as Christian people are wont to give, 
 leaving meanwhile their followers in the shipwrecked 
 vessel. The castle gate was opened to them and they 
 thought that all was well. All at once the court-yard was 
 filled with armed men, who directed their sharp, steel- 
 poiijted lances against the helpless strangei's, whose honor- 
 able representations and gentle entreaties were met onlj"^ by 
 sullen silence, or with hoarse and scornful jeering. At 
 last a knight came down the flight of stairs with eyes flash- 
 ing fire — they know not if it were a phantom or some wild 
 heathen — he gave a signal and the fatal lances closed more 
 narrowly around them. At that moment tlie .flute-like 
 tones of a woman's voice was heard, calling on God to help, 
 and in mad fury the specters rushed against each other, the 
 gates flew open, and Gotthard and Rudlieb fled, catching 
 a glimpse as they passed of an angelic woman at a lighted 
 window. They made every exertion to get their leaking 
 vessel again afloat, preferring rather to give themselves up 
 to the sea than to that terrible shore, and at last, after 
 manifold dangers, they landed in Denmark. 
 
 "They are of opinion that that wicked castle was a 
 heathen fortress, but I consider it to be some ruined strong- 
 hold deserted by man, in which hellish specters carry on 
 their sport by night; for, tell me, what heathen would be so 
 demon-like as to offer death to shipwrecked suppliants in- 
 stead of refreshment and assistance ? " 
 
 Biorn stared fixedly before him, as if turned to stone. 
 But Sintram stepped from the hearth to the table, and said, 
 " Father, let us seek out this nest of wickedness and lay it 
 even with the ground. I know not why, but my mind is 
 impressed with it, as a certainty, that this fearful occur- 
 rence is alone to blame for my terrible dreams." 
 
 Burning with rage against his son, Biorn rose up, and 
 would perhaps again ha^e uttered some dreadful impreca- 
 tion, but it was not to be ; for just at that moment the 
 
8INTBAM AND BIS COMPANIONS. 227 
 
 pealing notes of a trumpet interrupted his angry -words, 
 the folding doors were solemnly thrown open, and a herald 
 entered the apartment. 
 
 He bowed reverently, and then said : " I am sent by Jarl 
 Eric the Aged. Two nights ago he returned from his ex- 
 pedition in the Grecian Sea. He had intended to take 
 vengeance on the island which is called Chios, because 
 about fifty years ago his father had been slain there by the 
 mercenaries of the emperor. But your kinsman, the sea- 
 king Arin Biorn, was lying at anchor in the bay, and ad- 
 vised pacification. Jarl Eric would not hear of this, and 
 the sea-king Arin Biorn at length said that he would never 
 suffer the island of Chios to be laid waste, because it was 
 there that the songs of an ancient Greek bard, named 
 Homer, were gloriously sung, and, moreover, very 
 choice wines were drunk there. From parley they pro- 
 ceeded to combat, and so mightily did the sea-king Arin 
 Biorn prevail, that Jarl Eric lost two of his vessels, and 
 only escaped with difficulty in one which was already 
 much injured. For this act Eric the Aged hopes one day 
 to make the house of the sea-king atone, since Arin Biorn 
 is himself not on the spot. Will you, therefore, Biorn of 
 the Fiery Eyes, make compensation to Jarl in as much oxen, 
 money, and land as he demands ? Or will you prepare to 
 meet him for battle on Niflung's Heath seven days hence ? " 
 
 Biorn bowed his head composedly, and repeated in a 
 courteous tone : " Seven days hence at Niflung's Heath." 
 He then presented the herald with a gold embossed goblet 
 full of rich wine, saying, " Drink that, and then hide the 
 cup that thou hast emptied in thy mantle, and take it with 
 thee." 
 
 " Greet thy Jarl also from the Baron of Montfaucon," 
 added Folko, " and tell him that I too will be present at 
 Niflung's Heath, as the hereditary friend of the sea-king, 
 and as kinsman and guest of Biorn of the Fiery Eyes." 
 
238 8INTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 The herald evidently started at the name of Montfaucon; 
 he bent very low, looked with reverent attention at the 
 baron, and quitted the hall. 
 
 Gabrielle smiled at her knight with an untroubled and 
 loving air, for well she knew his renown as a warrior; she 
 only asked : " "Where shall I remain, Folko, when you go 
 forth to battle ? " 
 
 " I thought," replied Biorn, " you would be pleased to 
 stay in my castle, beautiful lady. I leave my son behind 
 for you as ward and squire." 
 
 Gabrielle hesitated for a moment, and, Sintram, having 
 returned to his place by the hearth, muttered to himself, 
 looking gloomily at the bright flame : " Yes, yes, it will 
 possibly be so. It seems to me that Duke Mcnelaus may 
 have just left the fortress of Sparta on some such warlike 
 expedition, when the ardent Knight Paris met the beauti- 
 ful Helen at eventide in the garden." 
 
 But Gabrielle, shuddering she knew not whj', said sud- 
 denly : " Without you, Folko ? And shall I then be de- 
 prived of the pleasure of seeing you fight? and miss tlie 
 honor of tending you should you be wounded ? " 
 
 Folko bowed and gracefully thanked his lady, and re- 
 plied : 
 
 " Go with your knight, since thou so desirest it, and be 
 his lovely inspiring star. It is indeed a good old northern 
 custom that women should be present at the contests of 
 knights, and no Northman will disturb the spot brightened 
 with the light of their eyes. Unless " — inquired he, cast- 
 ing a glance at Biorn — " Eric Jarl perhaps is not worthy of 
 his ancestors." 
 
 " He is a man of honor," asserted Biorn. 
 
 " Then array yourself, my fairest love," said Folko, half 
 singing and half speaking, " and come forth with us to the 
 battle-field as judge of our prowess ! " 
 
 " Forth 1 Forth with us to the battle-field ! " echoed Sin- 
 
aiJSTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 229 
 
 tram enthusiastically, and all dispersed cheerfully and 
 hopefully, Sintram repairing to the forest, and the rest to 
 repose. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Nipltjng's Heath was the name given to a desolate and 
 dreary tract of country in Norway ; it was said that the 
 young Niflung, the son of Hogne, the last of his race, had 
 there darkly ended a sad and unsuccessful life. Many an- 
 cient gravestones were scattered around, and in the few oak 
 trees which rustled here and there on the plain, mighty 
 eagles had built their nests, and fought at times so bitterly 
 with each other that the flapping of their heavy wings and 
 their angry cry could be heard afar in more inhabited re- 
 gions, and the children in the cradles would start at the 
 sound, and the old men would quake with fear as they sat 
 slumbering round the hearth. 
 
 The seventh night, the last before the day of battle, was 
 just drawing in, and on both sides two mounted bauds 
 might be seen descending the hills ; that in the west led by 
 Eric the Aged, that in the east by Biorn of the Fiery Eyes ; 
 for custom required that the combatants should appear on 
 the field of battle previous to the hour appointed, in order 
 to intimate that they rather sought than shunned the con- 
 test. 
 
 Folko immediately pitched, on the most convenient spot, 
 his tent of azure samite, fringed with gold, which he had 
 brought with him for his fair lady's comfort, while Sintram 
 rode across to Jaii Eric the Aged, in the manner of a herald, 
 to announce to him that the beautiful Gabrielle of Mont- 
 faucon was riding in the armed troops of the Knight Biorn, 
 and would be present in the morning as judge of the com- 
 bat. Eric Jarl bowed low at this agreeable tidings, and 
 ordered his Skalds to strike up a song, which ran as follows : 
 
230 8INTBAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 Men of Eric ! 
 
 Fierce and brave ! 
 
 Array yourselves ere morning light ; 
 
 With spear and shield. 
 
 For battle-field. 
 
 Deck yourselves for the coming fight ! 
 
 Beauty's smile 
 
 Awaits awhile 
 
 To give the' verdict of your fame ; 
 
 O'er sea and land. 
 
 From distant strand, 
 
 Resounds the glorious Folko's name. 
 
 There, amidst the foe, 
 
 We his banner know, 
 
 Pressing onward for the fight 1 
 
 Men of Eric ! 
 
 Folko comes ! 
 
 Battle with your utmost might ! 
 
 The -wonderful strains floated over the heath, and reached 
 Gabrielle's tent. She was well accustomed to hear her 
 knight's fame celebrated on all sides ; but when his praises 
 burst forth so gloriously under the sky of night from the lips 
 of an enemy, she could scarcely refrain from falling on her 
 knees before the great baron. But Folko, with courteous 
 grace, raised her up, and pressing a fervent kiss on her soft 
 hand, said : " To you, my lovely lady, belong my deeds, 
 and not to me ! " 
 
 As the night passed away, and the morning glowed in 
 the east, Niflung's Heath was full of movement and sound 
 of sparkling arms. Knights put on 'their clashing armor, 
 noble steeds neighed, the morning draught went round in 
 shining goblets of gold and silver, and war songs and harp 
 notes resounded everywhere. A merry march, played on 
 horns, rose from Biorn's camp. Montfaucon, with his horse- 
 men and retainers, clad in blue steel armor, conducted his 
 lady to a height on «hich she would be secure from the 
 flying spears, and could have a free survey of the battle- 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 231 
 
 field. The lights of morning played as it were in homage 
 over lier beauty, and as she passed close by the camp of 
 Eric Jarl, his men lowered their arms, and the officers bent 
 low their plumed helmets. Two of Montfaucon's pages 
 remained on the height in attendance on Gabrielle, not un- 
 willingly I'estraining their love of fighting for an ofHce so 
 agreeable. Then the two hosts passed in front of her, 
 saluting her and singing to her as they went ; and, placing 
 themselves in battle ari-ay, the fight began. 
 
 The spears of the Northmen, hurled by powerful hands, 
 rebounded with a clash from the broad shields opposed to 
 them, or met whizzing in their flight ; and now and then, 
 both in Bioi-n's and Eric's hosts, a warrior was struck, and 
 fell silent to the ground. 
 
 Then the Knight Folko of Montfaucon advanced with 
 his Norman horsemen. As he dashed by, he lowered his 
 sword to salute Gabrielle ; and then, raising a general exult- 
 ing battle-cry, he charged the left wing of the enemy. 
 Eric's foot-soldiers, resting firmlj^ on their knees, received 
 them with fixed halberds ; many a noble horse fell, fatally 
 wounded, bringing his rider with him to the ground ; many 
 another in his death-fall crushed his enemy beneath him. 
 Folko ruslied through — he and his war-steed un wounded — 
 and a troop of chosen knights followed him. Disorder was 
 already raging in the hostile camp ; tlie soldiers of Biorn 
 of the Fiery Eyes were already raising shouts of victory, 
 when a troop of horse, headed by Eric Jarl, advanced 
 against the great baron, and while Montfaucon's Normans, 
 hastily assembled, were engaged in dispersing these new 
 ranks, the enemy's infantry were gradually gathering into 
 a dense mass, rolling on and on. All tliis seemed occa- 
 sioned by the wonderfully shrill cry of a warrior wlio ap- 
 peared in their midst. And scarcely had this strange array 
 been formed than the troops scattered again in all direc- 
 tions with loud war cries, and with a force as irresistible as 
 
232 8INTRAM AND SIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 tliat with -wliicli Hecla sends forth the burning slream from 
 its unfatliomable abyss. Bioi'n's soldiers, wlio thought to 
 surround the enemy, wavered and fell, and gave way before 
 such inconceivable im-j. In vain the Knight Biorn en- 
 deavored to oppose the stream — he was himself almost 
 carried away in the general flight. 
 
 Mute and motionless, Sintram gazed at the tumult. 
 Friend and foe passed bim by, each alike avoiding him, 
 and none willing to have anything to do with him, so fear- 
 ful and so unearthly was his aspect of silent rage. He too 
 struck neither right nor left ; his battle-ax rested in liis 
 hand. But his eyes flashed with fire, and seemed piercing 
 the enemy's ranks, as though he would find out him wlio 
 had stirred up the warlike fury. He succeeded. A little 
 man, in strange-looking armor, witli large golden liorns on 
 his helmet, and .a projecting visor attached to it, was lean- 
 ing on a two-edged lialberd shaped like a sickle, and looked 
 hither and thither as if with a smile of derision at the vic- 
 torious pursuit of Eric's troops and tlie flight of their ad- 
 versaries. " That is he ! " exclaimed Sintram ; " that is he 
 who will drive us like fugitives before Gabrielle's eyes ! " 
 And with the swiftness of an arrow he darted toward him 
 with a wild shout. 
 
 The combat began with fury, but it lasted only a short 
 time. Defying the bold dexterity of his adversary, Sin- 
 tram, taking advantage of his superior size, struck so fear- 
 ful a blow upon the horned helmet that a stream of blood 
 gushed forth, the little man fell groaning, and after a few 
 frightful convulsive movements stretched out his limbs as 
 if stiffening in death. 
 
 His fall appeared to determine that of Eric's army. 
 Even those who had not seen his defeat suddenly lost cour- 
 age and eagerness for the fight, and retreated with uncer- 
 tain step, or ran in wild desperation upon the halberds of 
 the enemy. At the same time, Montfaucon had dispersed 
 
8INTUAM AND EIS COMPANIONS. 233 
 
 Eric Jarl's cavalry after a desperate conflict, and having 
 dragged Eric himself from his saddle, had taken him pris- 
 oner with his own hand. Biom of the Fiery Eyes stood 
 victorious in the midst of the field. The day was won. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Conducted by the great baron, in the presence of the 
 whole army, with glowing cheek and humble downcast 
 look, Sintram ascended the hill where Gabrielle stood in 
 all her radiant beauty. Both warriors bent on their knees 
 before her, and Folko said solemnly : " Ladj^, this young 
 combatant of noble race merits the reward of this day's 
 victory. I pray you, let him receive it from your fair 
 hand." 
 
 Gabrielle bowed courteously, disengaged her velvet scarf 
 of blue and gold, and fastened it to a gleaming sword 
 which a page brought her on a cushion of cloth of silver. 
 Then with a smile she held out the noble gift to Sintram, 
 who was just bending forward to receive it, when Gabrielle 
 suddenly paused, and turning to Folko, said : " Noble 
 baron, should not one on whom I bestow sword and scarf 
 be first admitted to the order of knighthood ? " 
 
 Light as a feather, Folko sprung up, bowed low before 
 his lady, and with solemn dignity gave the youth the ac- 
 colade of knighthood. Then Gabrielle invested him with 
 the sword, saying : " For the honor of God and virtuous 
 ladies, my young hero. I saw you fight, I saw you con- 
 quer, and my hearty prayer followed you. Fight and 
 conquer often again, as you have done to-day, that the 
 beams of yonr fame may shine even to my far-distant 
 country." 
 
 And, at a sign from Folko, she offered her tender lips 
 for the new knight to kiss. 
 
 Thrilling with ardor, but as if sanctified for service, 
 
234 SINTBAM AND EI8 COMPANIONS. 
 
 Sintram arose in silence, hot tears streaming down his 
 softened countenance, as the acclamations and trumpets of 
 the assembled armies greeted the ennobled youth with 
 deafening applause. 
 
 The old Rolf stood, however, calmly aside, and as lie 
 looked in the mild beaming eyes of his young charge, lie 
 said, in a voice of glad thanksgiving : 
 
 All strife hath now an end. 
 Rich gifts doth Heaven send ! 
 The evil foe is sLJii ! 
 
 Biorn and Eric Jarl had meanwhile been conversing to- 
 gether eagerly but not uncourteously. The victor now led 
 his vanquished foe up the hill, and presented him to the 
 baron and Gabrielle, saying : " Instead of two enemies, we 
 are now two sworn allies ; and I pray you, my dear guests 
 and kinsfolk, that you also will receive him with gracious 
 favor as one who henceforth belongs to us." 
 
 " Who has done so always," added Eric, smiling. " I 
 have indeed attempted revenge ; but, defeated by land and 
 water, one gets satisfied at last. And I thank God that I 
 have not yielded ingloriously, either in the Grecian seas in 
 battle with the sea-king, or on Niflung's Heath with you." 
 Folko of Montfaucon gave a ready assent to this by cor- 
 dially shaking his hand, and the reconciliation was solemnly 
 and heartily made. Eric Jarl then addressed Gabrielle 
 with such a noble and corteous grace that she gazed on the 
 hoary gigantic hero with a smile of wonder, and offered 
 him her beautiful hand to kiss. 
 
 Sintram meanwhile was engaged in eaKnest conversation 
 with the good Rolf, and at length the words caught the 
 ears of others : " But before all, bury that wonderfully 
 brave knight whom my battle-ax smote. Seek out the 
 greenest mound for his resting-place, and the most mag- 
 nificent oak to overshadow it ; also, first open his visor and 
 
SINTEAM AM) MIS COMPANIONS. 235 
 
 look carefully at his face, that, though mortally wounded, 
 we may not bury him alive ; and, moreover, that you may 
 be able to inform me of the appearance of one to whom ] 
 owe this most glorious of all prizes of victory." 
 
 Rolf bowed kindly, and went away. 
 
 " Our young knight is inquiring there " — said Folko, 
 turning to Eric Jarl — "about a slain warrior of whom I 
 would gladly hear more. Who, my dear sir, was that 
 wonderful captain who led on your infantry in such a 
 masterly manner, and who scarcely yielded before Sin- 
 tram's powerful battle-ax ? " 
 
 " You ask me more than I really can myself answer," re- 
 plied Eric Jarl. "It is about three nights ago that the 
 stranger joined me. I was sitting one evening with my 
 fellow-warriors round the hearth ; we were forging our 
 armor and singing over our work. Suddenly, above the 
 sound of the hammer and the song, we heard a noise so 
 powerful that we at once became silent, and sat motion- 
 less as if turned into stone. Before long the sound was re- 
 peated, and we perceived that the noise must come from an 
 immense horn which some one was blowing outside the 
 castle, demanding admittance. I then went myself down 
 to the castle-gate, and as I passed through the court-yard 
 all my dogs were so terrified by the strange noise that in- 
 stead of barking they were whining and crouching in their 
 kennels. I scolded them, and called to them, but even the 
 boldest would not follow me. ' I will show you then,' 
 thought I, 'the way to set to work'; and I grasped my 
 sword firmly, placed my torch close beside me on the 
 ground, and let the portals open without further delay. 
 For I knew well that it would be no easy matter for any 
 one to enter without my will. 
 
 " A loud laugh greeted me from without, and I heard 
 the words, ' Well, well ! these are mighty preparations in- 
 deed for giving one little man the hospitable shelter he de- 
 
236 8INTRAM AHJD HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 sires ! ' And indeed, I felt a blusli of shame come over me 
 as I saw the small stranger standing quite alone opposite to 
 me. I begged him to come in at once, and offered him my 
 hand ; but he still seemed too indignant, and would not 
 give me his own in return. On his way into the castle, 
 however, he became more friendly, and showed me, more- 
 over, the golden horn which he had blown ; he had another, 
 too, of the same kind, and he wore both screwed on his 
 helmet. 
 
 " When we were together in the ^hall, he behaved in a 
 very strange manner. Sometimes he was merry, some- 
 times cross, sometimes courteous, and sometimes jeering, 
 without any one being able to see whj^ he was thus varying 
 every moment. I would gladly have inquired from whence 
 he came, but how could I ask my guest such a question ? 
 ;%) far he told us himself that he was thoroughly frozen hi 
 'oil^-^countries, and that in his own he was much warmer. 
 Se *also seemed well acquainted with the imperial city of 
 GSnstantinople, and he related fearful stories of how 
 brother against brother, uncle against nephew, and even 
 father against son, had thrust each other from the throne, 
 blinding, cutting out tongues, and murdering. At last he 
 liientioned his own name ; it sounded Greek and noble, hut 
 none of us could retain it. 
 
 "Soon, however, he showed himself to be an excellent 
 armorer. He understood how to handle the red-hot iron 
 lightly and boldly, and to fashion it into form, and indeed 
 into one of the most murderous weapons of which I have 
 ever heard. This, nevertlieless, I forbade, for I was re- 
 solved to meet you in the field with equal arms, and with 
 such as are in use in our northern country. He laughed 
 and said we could be victorious without them, with skillful 
 movements and the like ; I was onlj^ to intrust him with 
 the command of my infantry, and I was certain of victory. 
 I thought to myself a good armorer of weapons is a good 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 237 
 
 handler of weapons; still I desired some test of his powers. 
 My lords, the skill he then exhibited in trials of strength 
 is not to be conceived, and although the young Sintram is 
 famed far and wide as a brave and mighty warrior, still I 
 can scarcely imagine that he could kill such a one as my 
 Greek ally." 
 
 He would have continued speaking, but the good Rolf 
 came hastily back with some squires, and all looked so 
 deadly pale that every eye was involuntarily turned to them 
 with anxious expectation as to the tidings he had brought. 
 Rolf stood still, trembling and silent. 
 
 " Courage, my old friend," said Sintram. " Whatever 
 you may have to tell, everything from your faithful lips is 
 truth and light." 
 
 " Sir knight," began the old man, " do not be angry, 
 but the strange warrior whom you slew to-day we could not 
 possibly bury. Had we only not opened that visor — jthat'^ 
 hideous, projecting visor ! For so horrible a countenance 
 grinned from beneath it, so fearfully distorted by dea'tlT, 
 that we scarcely kept our senses. God forbid that we 
 should have touched him. Far rather send me to kill bears 
 and wolves in the desert, and let me look on while eagles, 
 vultures, and hawks revel on their carcasses." 
 
 All present shuddered and remained for some time silent. 
 At length Sintram regained courage and said, "Dear old 
 man, whence come these wild words — such as these until 
 now have been ever so alien and abhorrent to j'ou ? And 
 you. Sir Eric, did your Grecian ally appear to you so terri- 
 ble also when alive ? " 
 
 " That I know not," replied Eric Jarl, casting a glance 
 of inquiry round the circle of his comrades and retainers. 
 They confirmed his words. Only at last it appeared that 
 neither chieftain nor knight nor soldiery could accurately 
 say what the stranger was like. 
 
 "Then we will find it out for ourselves, and at the same 
 
238 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 time buiy the corpse," said Sintram, courteously signing to 
 tlie whole assembled party to follow him. All did so, ex- 
 cept Montfaucon, whom the fearful entreaties of Gahrielle 
 kept at her side. 
 
 He lost nothing thereby. For though Niflung's Heath 
 was searched in all directions twenty times over, the body 
 of the strange warrior was no longer to be found. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 The joyful calmness which had come over Sintram on 
 this day seemed to be more than a passing gleam. Even 
 though at times a remembrance of the Knight Paris and 
 Helena would inflame his heart with wilder and bolder 
 aspirations, it needed only one glance at scarf and sword, 
 and the stream of his inner life would glide on again with 
 clear and mirror-like calmness. 
 
 " What can a man wish for beyond what has already 
 been bestowed upon me ? " he would often say to himself in 
 quiet delight. 
 
 Matters th>is went on for a long time. The beautiful 
 northern autumn had already begun to redden the leaves 
 of the oaks and elms around the castle, when one day he 
 was sitting with Folko and Gabrielle almost in the very 
 same spot in the garden at which he had before encountered 
 that mysterious being, whom he, without knowing whj', had 
 called the little master. But on this day how different was 
 the aspect of everything. The sun was sinking calmly and 
 brightly toward the sea ; the evening mist, the token of an 
 autumnal fog, was rising over the meadows and fields 
 around the castle-hill. Presently Gabrielle, placing her lute 
 in Sintram's hands, said : 
 
 "Dear friend, so gentle and mild as you now always are, 
 I may surely intrust you with my delicate instrument. 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 239 
 
 Sing to it your song of that land of flowers. I feel as if on 
 my lute it would sound far sweeter than when accom- 
 panied with the vibrations of your fearful harp." 
 
 The young knight bowed courteously, and obeyed the 
 lady's command. 
 
 Softly, and with unwonted grace, the tones resounded 
 from his lips, and the wild song seemed to be transformed 
 and to blossom like some garden of the blessed. Gabrielle's 
 eyes were suffused with tears, and Sintram, singing more 
 and more delightfully in his ardent longings, gazed at their 
 pearly brightness. When the last chords were sounding, 
 Gabrielle's voice rejpeated like some angel's echo : 
 
 Heigli-ho ! for the land with the beautiful flowers I 
 Sintram put down the lute and heaved a sigh as he looked 
 up thankfully toward the stars, now appearing in the 
 heavens. 
 
 Then Gabrielle, turning toward her lord, whispered : 
 " Oh how long, how long have we now been away from 
 our own glorious castles and our blooming gardens ! Oh ! 
 that land with the beautiful flowers ! " 
 
 Sintram scarcely knew whether he heard aright, so 
 utterly did he at once feel himself shut out from Paradise. 
 His last hope, too, vanished before Folko's courteous assur- 
 ances that he would hasten to fulfill his lady's wishes the 
 very next week, and that their vessel was already lying off 
 the shore ready for sailing. She thanked him with a kiss, 
 softly imprinted on his foi'ehead, and walked up tlie ascent 
 toward the castle, resting on her husband's arm, smiling 
 and singing. Sintram, dejected in mind, and as if turned 
 into stone, remained behind forgotten. 
 
 At length, when night had darkened the sky, he started 
 up wildly, and ran up and down the garden with all his 
 former madness, rushing out at last into the wild moonlit 
 hills. 
 
 There he suffered his sword to clash against tree and 
 
240 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 bush, so that all around him there was a sound of crashing 
 and falling, and the night-birds flew about liim screaming 
 and whistling in wild alarm, and stag and doe sprang away 
 into the deepest coverts of the wilderness. 
 
 Suddenly the old Rolf stood before him ; he was on his 
 way back from a visit to the chaplain of Drontheim, to 
 whom he had been relating with tears of joy how Sintram 
 had been softened by Gabrielle's angelic presence, ay, 
 almost cured, and how he ventured to hope that the evil 
 dream had yielded. And now the whizzing sword of the 
 furious youth had well-nigh unwittingly wounded the good 
 old man. He stood still with folded hands, and sighed 
 forth from the very depths of his heart : "Oh ! Sintram, 
 my foster-child, the darling of my heart, what hast come 
 over thee to excite thee to this tei-rible rage ? " 
 
 The youth stood for a time as if spell-bound, gazing at 
 his aged friend sadly and pensively, with eyes that looked 
 like expiring watch-fires, shining through a thick mist. At 
 length he sighed and said, scarcely audibly : 
 
 " Good Rolf, good Rolf, go away from me ! I am not 
 at home in thy garden of heaven, and if sometimes a kindly 
 breeze blow open its golden gates for me, so that I may 
 look in the flowery meadow-land, where the good angels 
 dwell, there comes at once an icy cold north wind between 
 me and them, and the sounding portals close, and I remain 
 outside alone in endless winter." 
 
 " Dear young knight, oh ! listen to me, oh ! listen to the 
 good angel within yourself ! Do you not bear in your 
 hand the same sword with which the pure lady girded 
 you? Does not her scarf move over your furious breast ? 
 Do you not remember? You used to say that no man 
 could desire more than had been bestowed on you ! " 
 
 "Yes, Rolf, I have said that," replied Sintram, falling on 
 the autumn moss with a flood of tears. The tears, too, 
 ran down the old man's face to his white beard. 
 
8INTBAM AND HIS OOMPANIOISS. 241 
 
 After a time the youth rose again ; he ceased to weep, 
 but his looks were fearful, cold, and wrathful ; and he said, 
 " See, Rolf, I have passed blessed and peaceful days, and 
 I_ thought all the powers of evil within me were forever 
 stifled and dead. It might, perchance, have been so, just 
 as it would ever be day if the sun were always in the 
 heavens. But ask this poor dark earth why she looks so 
 gloomy ! Encourage her to smile as she was wont to do ! 
 Old man, she can no longer smile, and now that the gentle 
 compassionate moon has passed behind the clouds with her 
 holy funeral veil, she cannot even any longer weep ; and in 
 the hour of darkness every terrible feeling and every mad 
 impulse wakens up, and I tell thee, disturb me not, disturb 
 me not ! Hurra ! behind there, behind there, is the pale 
 moon !" 
 
 His voice had almost fallen into a murmur at these last 
 words. Storm-like, he tore himself away from the trem- 
 bling old man, and rushed away through the forest. 
 
 Rolf knelt down and wept and prayed silently. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Where the seashore rises most steeply and abruptly 
 under three half-withered oaks, said to have been the scene 
 of human sacrifices in heathen ages, Sintram stood, lean- 
 ing solitary and exhausted on his drawn sword, alone in 
 the moonlit night. He looked out upon the distant heav- 
 ing of the waves, and the pale beams of the moon, quiv- 
 ering between the branches of the trees, fell upon his 
 motionless figure, making him appear like some fearful 
 phantom. 
 
 Presently some one partly raised himself from the tall 
 yellow grass on his left, and groaning faintly, laid down 
 again, 
 
242 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 The following strange conversation, however, began 
 between the two companions : 
 
 " Thou there, who movest thyself so mysteriously in the 
 grass, dost thou belong to the living or to the dead ? " 
 
 " As one chooses to take it; To heaven and to joy I am 
 dead ; to hell and to anguish I live." 
 
 " Methinks I have heard thee before." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Thou art, perhaps, a troubled spirit, and thy life-blood 
 was here perhaps poured out in sacrifice to idols ! " 
 
 " I am a troubled spirit, but no one has shed my blood, 
 and no one can shed it. But they have hurled me down — 
 ugh ! into what a fearful abyss." 
 
 "And thou didst there break thy neck ? " 
 
 " I live, and I shall live longer than thou." 
 
 " Thou almost seemest to me like the crazy pilgrim with 
 the dead men's bones." 
 
 " I am not he, although we often hold company together ! 
 ay ! ofttimes we have close and friendly intercourse. But 
 between ourselves, I regard him also as mad. If I some- 
 times urge him on, and say : ' Take ! ' then he considei's, 
 and points upward to the stars ; and then again, if I some- 
 times say : ' Take not ! ' then for the most part he will seize 
 awkwardly, and he is able to destroy my best delights and 
 pleasures. But nevertheless we keep up a sort of brother- 
 hood in arms, and are indeed all but kinsmen." 
 
 " Give me thy hand, that I may help thee up." 
 
 " Oh ho ! my officious young sir, that might bring you 
 little good. But in truth, you're already helping me to rise. 
 Give heed a bit." 
 
 Wild and more wildly the form struggled on the ground ; 
 thick clouds hurried over the moon and stars on a long un- 
 known journey, and Sintram's thoughts chased each other 
 in a no less wonderful course, wholly unrestrained, and far 
 and near the grass and trees rustled awfully. At length 
 
8INTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 243 
 
 the mysterious being had raised himself. As if with fear- 
 ful curiosity the moon through a rent in the clouds cast a 
 gleam upon Sintram's companion, making it evident to the 
 shuddering youth that the little master stood beside him. 
 
 " Avaunt ! " cried he, "I will hear nothing further of thy 
 evil stories of the Knight Paris. I should be driven quite 
 mad at the end." 
 
 " It doesn't need stories of the Knight Paris for tliat ! " 
 laughed the little master. "It is enough that the Helen 
 of thy heart is traveling toward Montfaucon. Believe me 
 thou art a victim to madness already. Or wouldst thou 
 that she should remain ? Then thou must be more courte- 
 ous toward me than thou art now." 
 
 And so saying, the little master raised his voice with such 
 angry violence toward the sea that Sintram could not re- 
 frain from shuddering at the dwarf. But he cliid himself 
 at once for the feeling, and convulsively grasping his sword- 
 hilt with both his hands, he said scornfully : 
 
 " Thou and Gabrielle ! What acquaintance hast thou 
 then with Gabrielle?" 
 
 "Not much," was the answer returned. At the same 
 time the little master evidently trembled with fear and 
 anger, and at length he said : "I cannot endure the name 
 of thy Helen, do not repeat it to me ten times in a breath. 
 But suppose the tempest were to rise ? If the waves were 
 to swell and roll, forming a foaming circle round the coast 
 of Norway ? Then the voyage to Montfaucon could not be 
 thought of, and thy Helen will remain here at least through 
 the whole long dark wintei' ! " 
 
 " If ! if ! " replied Sintram contemptuously. " Is the sea 
 then thy slave ? Are the storms thy fellows ? " 
 
 " They are rebels to me ! Accursed rebels ! " munnured 
 the little master in his red beard. " Thou must help me. 
 Sir Sintrarn, if I am to control them ; but thou hast again 
 no heart for that." 
 
244 8INTBAM AND HIS C0MPANI01S8. 
 
 " Boaster ! Provoking boaster ! " exclaimed the youth, 
 " what dost thou desire of me ? " 
 
 "Not much, sir knight; not much for one who has power 
 and ardor of soul. Thou hast only to look steadily and 
 keenly out over the sea for one half -hour, and not to cease 
 wishing with all thy might that it should foam and rage 
 and swell and never rest till the icy hand of winter is on 
 your mountains. That season, in itself, is sufficient to delay 
 the voyage of Duke Menelaus to Montfaucon. And give 
 me also a lock of thy black hair. It is flying as wildly 
 about thee as ravens' and vultui-es' wings." 
 
 The youth drew his sharp dagger, madly cut off a lock of 
 his hair, threw it to the stranger, and according to his de- 
 sire gazed with earnest wishing over the expanse of sea. 
 
 And softly, quite softly, the waters began to be troubled, 
 just as one whispers when anxious dreams come on, and 
 when one longs to rest and cannot. Sintram was on the 
 point of giving up ; but in the moonlight he perceived a 
 vessel sailing with white-swelling sails toward the south. 
 The fear of seeing Gabrielle soon thus sailing away came 
 over him ; and ever wishing with increasing power, he 
 fixed his eyes upon the watery abyss. Sintram, alas Sin- 
 tram, art thou indeed the same being who but lately wast 
 gazing on the moistened eyes of thy angelic lady ? 
 
 And the waves swelled more mightilj'', and the storm 
 swept whistling and howling over the ocean ; the breakers 
 white with foam were already visible in the moonlight. 
 
 Then the little master threw the lock of Sintram's hair 
 up toward the clouds, and as it fluttered and floated away 
 in the breeze the tempest rose so angrily that sea and sky 
 were blended in one dense mist, and far off might be heard 
 the cries of distress from many a sinking vessel. 
 
 But the crazy pilgrim with the dead men's bones passed 
 close by the shore in the midst of the waters, gigantic in 
 stature, and rocking terribly ; the boat in wbich he stood 
 
BINTRAM AND 318 COMPANIONS. 245 
 
 was not visible, so mightily raged the waves round about 
 it. 
 
 " Thou must save liim, little master, tliou must save him 
 most surely," cried Sintram, in a tone of angry entreaty, 
 through tlie tumult of the winds and waves ; but the little 
 master replied with a laugh : 
 
 "Be at rest as regards him, he will be able to save him- 
 self. The waves cannot harm him. Dost thou see? They 
 are only begging him, and that is why they toss so boldly 
 around him. And he gives them rich alms, very rich ; I 
 can assure you that." 
 
 Indeed it seemed as if the pilgrim were strewing dead 
 men's bones into the waters, and then passed scathless on 
 his way. 
 
 Sintram felt a horrid shudder pass through him, and he 
 rushed wildly toward the castle. His companion had 
 vanished. 
 
 CHAPTER Xni. 
 
 In the castle, Biorn and Gabrielle and Folko of Mont- 
 faucon were sitting round the stone table, from which, 
 since tlie arrival of the noble guests, those suits of armor 
 had been removed, which had formerly been the silent 
 companions of the lord of the castle, and had been placed 
 all together in a heap in the adjoining apartment. 
 
 On this day, while the storm had been rattling so furi- 
 ously against the doors and windows, it seemed as if the 
 old armor in the adjoining room had also been stirring, and 
 Gabrielle several times rose with alarm and fixed her 
 beautiful eyes fearfully on the little iron door, as though 
 she presently expected to see an armed specter issue from 
 it, bending with his mighty helmet through the low vaulted 
 door-way. 
 
 Knight Biorn smiled grimly at her, and said, as if he had 
 
246 8INTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 guessed her thoughts, " Oh, he will never come out from 
 thence again: at last I have put an end to that." 
 
 His guests stared at him doubtingly ; but M'ith an air 
 of fearful indifference — it seemed as if the tempest had 
 awakened the storm of rage within his own heart — ^he 
 began the following narration : 
 
 " I was once also a happy man ; I have smiled as you do, 
 and could rejoice in the morning as you do ; it was before 
 the hypocritical chaplain had so bewildered the wise mind 
 of my beautiful wife with his canting piety that at last she 
 retired into a convent, and left me alone with our wild son. 
 That indeed was not right in the lovely Verena. Well, in 
 her blooming, glad youth, before I knew her, many knights 
 had sought her hand ; among others. Sir Weigand the 
 Slender ; and to him the fair maiden showed herself most 
 inclined to give a favorable hearing. Her parents well 
 knew that Weigand's rank and power were almost equal to 
 their own ; his early renown in arms, moreover, was free 
 from all reproach, so that Verena and he were almost 
 regarded as affianced. 
 
 "It happened one day that they were both walking 
 together in the garden, and a shepherd was just driving 
 his sheep up the mountain outside. The maiden saw 
 among the flock a little snow-white lamb, skipping so grace- 
 fully and merrily about, that she longed to have it. Wei- 
 gand at once vaulted over the railing, hastened after the 
 shepherd, and offered him two gold bracelets for the little 
 animal. But the shepherd would not part with it ; he 
 scarcely listened to the knight, but quietly continued his 
 way up the mountain, with Weigand closely following him. 
 At length Weigand lost his patience. He threatened, and 
 the shepherd, sturdily and proudly, like all of his race in 
 our northern lands, threatened in return. Suddenly Wei- 
 gand's sword clashed upon his head. He had intended the 
 weapon to have fallen flat ; but who can control a fiery 
 
8INTBAM AND EIS COMPANIONS 247 
 
 Btecd or a drawn sword ? The bleeding shepherd with his 
 skull cloven fell down the precipice ; his flock bleated fear- 
 fully over the mountains. The little Iamb alone ran in its 
 terror toward the garden, pushed itself through the railings, 
 and as if imploring help lay down at Verena's feet, red 
 with its master's blood. She took it in her arms, and from 
 that hour never allowed Weigand the Slender to appear 
 again before her face. 
 
 " She now always cherished the little lamb, and had no 
 pleasure in anything else in the world, and she grew pale 
 and turned her gaze heavenward like the lilies. She would 
 even at that time have taken the veil, but just then I came 
 to help her father in a bloody feud and rescued him from 
 his enemies. This the old man represented to her, and, 
 softly smiling, she gave me her beautiful hand. 
 
 " Poor Weigand's grief would not allow him to remain 
 any longer in his own country. It drove him forth as a 
 pilgrim to Asia, whence our forefathers came, and he is 
 said to have done wonderful deeds there, both of valor and 
 humility. Indeed, my heart used to feel strangely weak at 
 that time whenever I heard him talked of. 
 
 "After some years he returned and wished to build a 
 church and a monastery on that mountain toward the west 
 yonder, from whence the walls of my castle are distinctly 
 visible. It is said that he wished to be consecrated as a 
 priest there himself, but matters fell out otherwise. 
 
 " For some pirate vessels had sailed from the southern 
 seas, and hearing of the building of this monastery, tlie 
 captain imagined that he should find much gold belono-ino- 
 to the lord of the castle and to the master-builders, or else, 
 that if he surprised and carried them off, a mighty ransom 
 was to be extorted from them. He could have known but 
 little of northern courage and northern weapons, but that 
 knowledge was speedily obtained. 
 
 "Having landed in that bay under the black rocks, he 
 
248 8INTRAM AND BIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 reached the site of the building by circuitous paths, sur- 
 rounded it, and fancied that the chief matter was now 
 done. But hurra ! Weigand and his builders rushed upon 
 them with swords, hammers, and axes. The heathens fled 
 away to their ships, Weigand following them to take 
 revenge. 
 
 " On his way he passed by our castle, and just as ho 
 caught sight of Verena on the terrace, and for the first 
 time after many j'ears, she courteously acknowledged the 
 salutation of the glowing victor, a dagger, Imrled back by 
 one of the fugitive pirates, struck his uncovered head, and 
 he fell bleeding and insensible to the ground. 
 
 " We completed tlie rout of the heathens. Then I 
 ordered the wounded knight to be brought into the castle, 
 and m.y pale Verena's face glowed like lilies in the morning 
 light, and Weigand opened his eyes with a smile at finding 
 himself near her. He refused to be taken into any other 
 room but the small one close 'hj, where now the armor is 
 placed ; it felt to him, lie said, like the little cell which he , 
 now hoped soon to inh.ibit in his quiet cloister. All Avas 
 done according to his wish, my sweet Verena nursed him, 
 and he seemed at first to be on the straight road to reco\'ery; 
 but his head remained weak and confused on the slightest 
 emotion, his walk was rather a falling than a walking, and 
 his face was pale as death. We could not let him go. He 
 used to come out of the little door tliere, when Me were 
 sitting together of an evening, tottering along into the 
 hall ; and my heart was often sad and wrathful when 
 Verena's sweet eyes beamed so softly toAvard him, and a 
 blush like the glow of evening would suffuse her lily 
 cheeks. But I bore it, I could h;ive borne it to the end of 
 our lives. Alas, then Verena went into a cloister ! " 
 
 He fell so heavily upon his folded hands that the stone 
 table seemed to groan beneath it, and he remained a long 
 while motionless as one dead. When he again raised him- 
 
SINTBAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 249 
 
 self his fiery eye glanced fearfully aud angrily round the 
 hall, and at length he said to Folko : 
 
 "Your beloved Hamburgers, Gotthard Lenz and his son 
 Kudlieb, they are to blame for this ! Who bid them be 
 cast ashore here, so close to my castle ! " 
 
 Folko cast a piercing look on him, and was on the point 
 of making a fearful inquiry ; but another look at the 
 trembling Gabrielle bade him be silent, at least for the 
 present, and the Knight Biorn continued his narrative as 
 follows : 
 
 " Verena -was with her nuns, and I was alone, and my 
 sorrow had driven me all day long wandering tlirough 
 forest and brook and mountain. Then in tlie twilight I 
 came back to my desolate castle, and scarcely had I entered 
 the hall than the little door creaked and Weigand, who 
 had slept through it all, glided toward me, asking : 'Where 
 then is Verena ? ' Then I became almost mad, and I 
 howled to him with a laugh : ' She is gone mad, and so 
 am I, and so are you, and now we are all mad ! ' Merciful 
 heaven ! the wound on his head burst open, and a dark 
 stream flowed over his face — alas ! how different from the 
 redness when Verena met him at the castle-gate ? — and he 
 raved, and rushed out into the wilderness, and has wandered 
 about there ever since as a crazy pilgrim." 
 
 He was silent, and Gabrielle was silent, and Folko was 
 silent, all three cold and pale, like images of the dead. At 
 last the fearful narrator added in a low voice and as if 
 thoroughly exhausted : " He has visited me here since 
 then, but he will never come again through the little door. 
 Have I not established peace and order in my castle ? " 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 SiNTEAM had not yet returned when the inmates of the 
 castle retired to rest in deep bewilderment. No one was 
 
25 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 even thinking of him, for every heart was battling with 
 strange forebodings and uncertain cares. Even the heroic 
 breast of Knight Follco of Montfaucon heaved with debat- 
 ing thoughts. 
 
 Old Rolf still remained without, weeping in the forest, 
 exposing his gray head, heedless of the storm, and waiting 
 for his young master. But he had gone a very different 
 way. It was not till morning dawned that he entered the 
 castle from the opposite direction. 
 
 Gabrielle had slumbered sweetly through the night. It 
 was as if angels with golden wings had fanned away the 
 wild stories of the previous evening, and had wafted before 
 her instead bright visions of the flowers and mirror-like 
 lakes and green hills of her home. She smiled and breatlied 
 calmly, while without the magic storm raged howling over 
 the woods and battled with the agitated sea. 
 
 But in truth, when she awoke on the following morning, 
 and still heard the windows rattling, and saw the clouds, as 
 if dissolved in mist and stream, still concealing the face of 
 heaven, she could have wept with dismay and sadness, 
 especially as Folko had already quitted their apartments, 
 and this — so her maidens informed her— clad in full armor. 
 At the same time she heard the tramp of armed men re- 
 sounding in the halls, and upon inquiry she learned that the 
 lord of Montfaucon had summoned all his retainers to be in 
 readiness to protect their lady. 
 
 Wrapped in her ermine mantle, she almost looked, in her 
 fear, like some tender flower just blooming above the snow, 
 and tottering before the winter's storms. Presently Sir 
 Folko entered in all the splendor of his gleaming armor, 
 peacefully carrying his golden helmet with its waving 
 plume under his arm, and greeting Gabrielle with an air of 
 cheerful serenity. At a sign from him her maidens retired, 
 and the men-at-arms without were heard quietly dispersing. 
 
 " Lady," said he, as he led her to a couch and took his 
 
SINTMAM AND HIS O0MPANI0N8. 251 
 
 seat beside her, while she already seemed reassured by his 
 pr sence ; "Lady, will you forgive your knight that he left 
 you to endure some moments of anxiety, but honor and strict 
 justice called him. Everything is now settled, and that 
 quietly and peacefully ; forget your fears, and whatever may 
 have troubled you reckon now among the things that are 
 no more." 
 
 " But you and Biorn ! " asked Gabrielle. 
 
 "On my knightly word of honor," said Folko,"it is all well." 
 
 Then he began to talk of indifferent and cheerful matters 
 with all his wonted grace and wit ; but Gabrielle, bending 
 toward him, said with deep emotion : 
 
 " Oh Folko, oh my knight, the flower of my life, my pro- 
 tector and my dearest tveasure on earth, let me know every- 
 thing if thou raayst. If, however, any given promise binds 
 thee, that is another thing. Thou knowest that I am of the 
 race of Portamour, and that I would ask nothing of my 
 knight which could cast the slightest breath of suspicion 
 upon his spotless shield." 
 
 Folko looked thoughtful for a moment, then smiling kind- 
 ly at her, he said : "It is not that, Gabrielle. But wilt thou 
 be able to bear what I have to announce to thee ? Wilt 
 thou not sink down under it as a slender fir bends beneath 
 the burden of the snow ? " 
 
 She raised herself somewhat proudly, and replied : " I 
 have already reminded thee of my father's name. Let me 
 only add that I am the wedded wife of the lord of Mont- 
 faucon." 
 
 "Be it so then," answered Folko, bowing solemnly. 
 " And if that must some day come to the light which has 
 nought to do with such deeds of darkness, it at least comes 
 forth less fearfully by a sudden flash. Know- then, Ga- 
 brielle, that the wicked knight who would have slain my 
 friends Gotthard and Rudlieb, is none other than our host 
 and kinsman, Biorn of the Fiery Eyes," 
 
252 8INTBAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 Gabrielle shuddered, and covered her face for a moment 
 with her fair hands. Then, looking round with an air of 
 amazement, she said : " I have heard falsely, although 
 even yesterday such a foreboding struck me. Or did you 
 not say just now that all was settled between you and 
 Biorn, and that quietly and peacefully ? Between the brave 
 baron and such a man after such a crime?" 
 
 " You heard aright," replied Folko, gazing with hearty 
 delight at his delicate yet bigli-minded lady. " This morn- 
 ing at earliest dawn I went to him and challenged him to 
 mortal combat in the neighboring valley, if he wei'e the 
 man whose castle had well-nigh been the altar of sacrifice to 
 Gottliard and Rudlieb. He stood there already completely 
 armed, and merely said : 'I am he ! ' and followed me to 
 the forest. But when we were alone at the place of combat 
 he hurled his shield from him down a giddy precipice, 
 then oast his sword of battle after it, and then with two 
 gigantic efforts he tore off his coat of mail, and said ; ' Now, 
 thrust at me. Sir Judge, for I am a heavy sinner and 
 I dare not fight with thee.' How dared I then attack 
 him ? Then a strange reconciliation was made between 
 us. He is partly to be considered my vassal, and yet I 
 solemnly absolved him from all payment in my own name 
 and in that of my friends. He was contrite, and yet no 
 tear was in his eye, and no friendly word crossed his lips. 
 He was only oppressed with the sense of that strict justice 
 which has invested me with this power, and Biorn is my 
 vassal on that tenure. I know not, lady, whether you can 
 bear to see us together in this manner, if not, I will seek 
 some other castle as a residence for us ; there are none, in- 
 deed, in Norway which would not receive us gladly and 
 honorably, and this wild autumnal tempest may, perhaps, 
 postpone our voyage for some time longer. Only this I 
 think, that if we now depart, and in this manner, the heart 
 of this wild man will break," 
 
SINTUAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 253 
 
 " Where my noble lord tarries, there will I also gladly 
 tarry under his protection," replied Gablielle ; and again 
 the greatness of her knight shone before her, and her heart 
 glowed with rapture. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 The noble lady had just unbuckled her knight's armor 
 with her own delicate hands — on the field of battle alone 
 might pages or squires at her command have aught to do 
 with Montfaucon's armor — and she was on the point of 
 throwing his azure gold-embroidered mantle over him, 
 when the door was gently opened, and Sintram entered the 
 room, bowing humbly. 
 
 At first Gabrielle gave him a kindly salutation, as was 
 her wont ; but, suddenly growing pale, she turned away 
 and said, " For Heaven's sake, Sintram, how you look ! 
 And how can one single night have altered you so 
 terribly?" 
 
 Sintram stood still, as if thunderstruck, not knowing 
 himself rightly what had really befallen him. 
 
 Then Folko took liim by the hand, and led him to a 
 brightly polished shield, and said very gravely, " Look at 
 yourself in it, my young knight ! " 
 
 Sintram drew back horrified at the first glance. It 
 seemed to him as if he saw the little master before him 
 with that one single upright feather in his wonderful cap ; 
 Init at length he perceived that the mirror was showing 
 liim himself alone and no one else, and that it was only the 
 cut of his own wild dagger in his hair which had given 
 him this strange, and, as he could not deny, specter-like 
 aspect. 
 
 " Who has done that to you ? " inquired Folko, still 
 severely and gravely. " And what terror has made your 
 wild and dishevelled hair thus stand on end ? " 
 
254 SINIUAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 Sintram knew not what to reply. It seemed to him as 
 thougli he were standing before a judgment-seat, and 
 tliat he were about to be degraded from his knightly- 
 rank. 
 
 Suddenly Folko drew him away from the shield ; and, 
 leading him to the rattling window, asked : " Wlience 
 comes this tempest ? " 
 
 Again Sintram was silent. His limbs began to tremble 
 under him, and Gabrielle whispered, pale and terrified : 
 " Oh, Folko, my knight, what has happened ? Oh, tell 
 me — are we indeed come into an enchanted castle ? " 
 
 " Our native north," replied Folko solemnly, " is rich 
 in many a secret art. We may not, for all that, call its 
 people enchanters ; but the young man there has cause to 
 watch himself narrowly ; he whom the evil one has touched 
 by so much as a hair " 
 
 Sintram heard no more. He staggered groaning out of 
 the room. 
 
 Outside he was met by old Rolf, still completely be- 
 numbed by the hail and tempest of the night. Only 
 rejoicing to see his young master again, he left his disor- 
 dered appearance unnoticed ; but as he accompanied him 
 to his sleeping apartment, he said : " Witches and spirits 
 of the tempest must have carried on their pranks on the 
 seashore. I know that such mighty changes in nature 
 never take place without some devilish arts." 
 
 Sintram fell into a swoon, ant. it was only with difficulty 
 that Rolf could so far recover him as to enable him to 
 appear in the great hall at the midday hour. But before 
 he went down he ordered a shield to be brought, looked at 
 himself in it, and with dismajr and grief cut off with his 
 dagger the rest of his long black hair, making himself al- 
 most look like a monk ; and thus he joined the others, who 
 were already sitting at table. 
 
 All looked at him with surprise ; old Biorn, however, 
 
8INTBAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 255 
 
 said, in a tone of bewilderment : " Will you also go from 
 me to a cloister, like your fair mother ? " 
 
 A commanding look from the lord of Montfaucon re- 
 strained any further outbreak ; and, as if appeasingly, 
 Biorn added, with a forced smile : "I only thought-per- 
 haps something had happened to him as to Absalom, and 
 he had been obliged to part with his hair in rescuing him- 
 self from the meshes in which he was entangled." 
 
 " You should not jest with holy things," repeated the 
 baron with severity ; and all were silent ; and immediately 
 after the repast was ended Folko and Gabrielle retired to 
 their apartments with a grave and courteous salutation. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Life in the castle from henceforth assumed quite another 
 form. Those two exalted beings, Folko and Gabrielle, re- 
 mained for the most part in their apartments ; and when 
 they did appear, it was with calm dignity and silent seri- 
 ousness, and BiiJrn and Sintram stood with humble awe 
 before them. Nevertheless, the lord , of the castle could 
 not bear the thought that his guests should withdraw to 
 any other knight's abode. Once, when Folko spoke of it, 
 something like a tear stood in the wild man's eye. He 
 bowed his head, and said softly: "As you will. But I 
 believe I shall wander among the rocks for days, if you go."' 
 
 Thus they remained altogether ; for the storm and the 
 sea continued to rage so furiously that no voyage was to 
 be thought of, and the oldest man in Norway could not 
 remember such an autumn. The priests consulted all the 
 Runic documents, the Skalds looked through their songs 
 and tales, and yet could find no record of a similar state of 
 things. 
 
 Biorn and Sintram braved the tempest. During the few 
 
256 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 hours that Folko and Gabrielle showed themselves, the 
 father and son were always in the castle, as if in respectful 
 attendance ; the rest of the day, and often through the 
 whole night, they were rushing through the forests and 
 among the rocks in pursuit of bears. 
 
 Folko meanwhile exerted all the charms of his mind and 
 all the grace of his noble manners to make Gabrielle forget 
 that she was dwelling in this wild castle, and that the severe 
 Norwegian winter was already setting in, which would ice 
 them in for several months. Sometimes he would relate 
 pleasant tales, sometimes he would play lively melodies, 
 begging Gabrielle to dance with her maidens to his music ; 
 then again, presenting his lute to one of the women, he 
 would himself mingle in the dance, ever taking occasion 
 thereby to express some new act of devotion to his lady ; 
 then again, in the spacious halls of the castle, he would 
 prepare martial exercises for his retainers, and Gabrielle 
 would haVe some graceful reward to adjudge to the victor ; 
 often, too, he would himself join the circle of combatants, 
 but so that he only met their attacks on the defensive, and 
 thus deprived no one of the prize. The Norwegians who 
 stood round as spectators, used to compare him with the 
 demi-god Baldur, a hero of their old traditions, who was 
 wont to let the darts of his comrades be directed against 
 him for amusement, conscious of his invulnerable nature and 
 of his strength. 
 
 Once at the close of one of these martial exercises, the 
 old Rolf advanced toward Folko, and humbly beckoning 
 him aside, said in a soft voice, " They call you the glorious 
 and mighty Baldur, and they are right. But even the 
 glorious and mighty Baldur died at last. Take heed to 
 yourself." 
 
 Folko looked at him with astonishment. 
 
 " It is not," continued the old man, "that I know of any 
 treachery, or that I could even remotely forebode any. 
 
SINTBAM AFD EIS 00MPANI0N8. ^51 
 
 God keep a Norwegian from such a fear. But as you stand 
 before me in all the splendor of your glory, the fleetingness 
 of all eartlily things forces itself powerfully upon me, and 
 I cannot help saying to you, 'Take heed, oh, take heed, 
 noble baron ! The brightest glory comes to an end ! '" 
 
 "They are good and pious thoughts," replied Folko 
 kindly, "and I will treasure them in a pure heart, my 
 faithful father." 
 
 The good Rolf was often with Folko and Gabrielle, and 
 thus formed a link between the two widely different house- 
 holds in the castle. For how could he ever have forsaken 
 his own Sintram ! Only in the wild hunting expeditions, 
 through the raging storm and rain, he was no longer able 
 to follow him. 
 
 The bright winter had at last set in with all its majesty. 
 The return to Normandy was now in consequence impeded, 
 and the magical storm was lulled. Brilliantly shone the 
 hills and plains in their hoary attire, and Folko, with skates 
 on his feet, would often carry his lady swiftly as the wind 
 in a light sledge over the crystal-like frozen lakes and streams. 
 
 On the other hand, the bear hunts of the lord of the castle 
 and his son assumed a still more desperate, and to them, 
 even more agreeable aspect. 
 
 About this time — when Christmas was drawing near, and 
 Sintram was endeavoring to drown his fear of his wonted 
 dreams by the wildest hunting expeditions — about this time 
 Folko and Gabrielle were standing together on one of the ter- 
 races of the castle. It was a mild evening ; the snow-clad 
 country was glowing with the red light of the setting sun; 
 from below, in the armorer's hall, might be heard men's 
 voices singing, over their beautiful work, songs of ancient 
 heroic times. At length, however, the singing ceased, the 
 beat of the hammer died away, and without being able 
 either to see the speakers or to distinguish them by their 
 voices, the following conversation arose : 
 
258 8INTBAM AND HT8 COMPANIONS. 
 
 " Who is the holdest among all those who trace their 
 origin to our noble land ? " 
 
 "Folko of Montfaucon." 
 
 " Right, but tell me, is there then nothing from the per- 
 formance of which even this great baron would not draw 
 back?" 
 
 " Yes, indeed ; there is one thing. And we, we who 
 have always dwelt in Norway, pursue it gladly and 
 readily." 
 
 "And it is?" 
 
 "A bear-hunt in winter, down icy precipices and over 
 trackless plains of snow." 
 
 "Thou'rt right, my comrade. He wlio does not under- 
 stand how to fasten our snow-shoes to his feet, nor how to 
 turn on them in a moment to the right and left, may be in- 
 deed a mighty knight in other respects, but on our moun- 
 tains, and from our chase, he is better away, tarrying with 
 his pretty wife in her apartments." 
 
 A laugh of satisfaction- followed this remark, and the 
 speakers then resumed their ponderous work. 
 
 Folko remained for some time absorbed in thought. A 
 glow, beyond that of the evening sky, reddened his cheek. 
 Gabrielle too was silent, considering she knew not what. 
 At last she recovered herself, and embracing her husband, 
 she said : " To-morrow, you will go, will you not, on the 
 bear-hunt, and bring your lady home the spoils of the 
 chase ? " 
 
 The knight bowed his assent with an air of gladness, and 
 the rest of the evening was spent in dance and music. 
 
 CHAPTER XVn. 
 
 " See, noble lord," said Sin tram the next morning, when 
 Folko expressed his desire to accompany them, "our snow- 
 shoes, which we call slcier, give wings to our course, so that 
 
SmTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 259 
 
 re go down the mountain side with the swiftness of the 
 and, and ascend it again with a speed which no one can fol- 
 jw, and on tlie plain no horse can keep pace with us ; but 
 bey are only safe for the most practiced huntsman. It is 
 s if some phantom spirit dwelt in them, fearfully fatal 
 one who has not learned to use them from child- 
 lood." 
 
 Folko replied somewhat proudly : "Is this then the first 
 ime that I have been on your mountains ? Years ago I 
 ained in this sport, and, thank God, every knightly exercise 
 oon becomes familiar to me." 
 
 Sintram ventured no further remonstrance, and still less 
 he old Biorn. Both, ^ too, felt more relieved when they 
 aw with what skill and assurance Folko buckled the shier 
 n his feet, without allowing any one to assist him. The 
 aity went up tlie mountains in pursuit of a fierce bear, 
 rhich they had often threatened in vain. They were soon 
 bliged to separate, and Sintram offered himself as com- 
 anion to Folko. The baron, touched by the youth's deep 
 umility and devotion, forgot everything which had lately 
 ppeared to him mysterious in the pale confused being be- 
 ore him, and gave a ready assent. 
 
 As they climbed higher and higher up the snowy moun- 
 ain, overlooking from many a giddy peak the lower-lying 
 rags and summits, which appeared like some ocean sud- 
 enly frozen or petrified by the wild storm, the noble Mont- 
 aucon drew his breath ever more freely and joyously. He 
 ang war songs and love songs in the clear keen air, songs 
 f his Frankish home, and the echo reverberated from rock 
 rock as if with surprise at the sound. At the same time, 
 e climbed the heights and glided down them again in 
 aerry sport, strongly and securely using the supporting 
 taff, and turning right and left as the fancy seized him ; 
 o that Sintram's former anxiety was changed into admir- 
 ng astonishment, and the huntsmen, who still kept the 
 
aeo SINTBAM AND EI8 COMPANIONS. 
 
 baron in view, burst forth in loud applause, proclaiming far 
 and wide the new achievements of their guest. 
 
 The good fortune which almost always accompanied the 
 noble Folko in his deeds of arms seemed disinclined to leave 
 him even now. After a short search, he and Sintram found 
 distinct traces of the animal, and with glad and beating 
 hearts followed them so swiftlj^ that even a winged foe could 
 scarcely have escaped their pursuit. But the beast of whom 
 they were in search had no idea of flight. He lay sulkily 
 in a cavern near the top of an almost perpendicular rock, 
 infuriated by the noise of the chase, and only awaiting in 
 his lazy rage for some adversary to venture near enough 
 for him to tear him to pieces. Folko and Sintram were 
 now close by the rock, the rest were widely scattered over 
 the mazy and dreary waste. The track led them upward, 
 and the two companions climbed tlie rock on different sides, 
 so that their prey could not escape them. Folko stood first 
 on the solitary height and looked around liim. 
 
 A vast boundless track of snow stretched out untrodden 
 before him, melting in the distance in the gloomy clouds of 
 evening. He almost fancied that he had lost the track of 
 the fearful beast. 
 
 Suddenly a low growl issued from the rockj^ cleft near 
 him, and black and clumsy the bear rose from the snow, 
 stood on its hind legs, and then advanced toward the b.aron 
 with glaring eyes. 
 
 Sintram meanwhile was struggling in vain to ascend the 
 rock, impeded by the masses of snow that were continually 
 slipping down. "> 
 
 Glad of a combat, so long untried as almost to be wholly 
 new to him, Sir Folko of Montfaucon leveled his spear and 
 awaited the attack of the monster. He suffered it to ap- 
 proach quite near, so that it could almost touch him witli 
 its fierce claws ; then he made a thrust and buried his lance 
 deep in the bear's breast. But still the terrible beast 
 
BINTRAM AMD HIS OOMP ANIONS . 261 
 
 pressed ever on ward, howling and roaring, thougli the 
 cross-iron of the spear kept him on his hind legs, and the 
 knight was obliged to plant his feet firmly in the ground to 
 resist the furious assault, while close before him was the 
 horrible bloody face of tlie animal and close in his ear its 
 hoarse growl, wrung forth partly in the agony of death 
 and partly from desire for blood. 
 
 At last the bear's furious power grew weaker, and the 
 dark blood streamed richly over the snow. He tottered ; 
 one more powerful thrust threw him backward and hurled 
 him down over the rocky precipices. At the same moment 
 Sintram stood by the side of the Baron of Montfaucon. 
 
 Folko drew a deep breath, and said, " I have not yet the 
 prize of victory in my hands ; and have it I must, so surely 
 as I have succeeded in winning it. Only see, the shoe on 
 my right foot seems to me injured. Do you think, Sin- 
 tram, that it will hold for me to glide down over the 
 precipice ?" 
 
 "Ratlier let me go," said Sintram. "I will fetch you 
 the bear's head and claws." 
 
 " A true knight," replied Folko, somewhat indignantly, 
 " does not do a knightly deed by halves. I only ask you 
 whether my snow-shoes will hold." 
 
 Sintram bent down to look, and was on the point of say- 
 ing " no," when suddenly a voice close beside them said : 
 " "Why, yes, of coui-se ! there is no question about it ! " 
 Folko thought that Sintram had spoken, and glided down 
 with the swiftness of an arrow, while his companion looked 
 around with amazement. The hated form of the little 
 master met his eye. 
 
 He was just on the point of angrily accosting him, when 
 he heard the sound of the baron's fearful fall, and stood 
 speechless with horror. All was also silent and still in the 
 abyss below. 
 
 " Now, what art thou waiting for ? " said the little master, 
 
262 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 after a pause. " He bas broken his neck ; go home to the 
 castle and take the beautiful Helen to thyself." 
 
 Sintram shuddered. His hideous companion then began 
 to extol Gabrielle's charms with such glowing, enchanting- 
 words that the youth felt his heart swell with a longing 
 that he had never known before. He thought of Iiis fallen 
 comrade as nothing else than a partition removed between 
 him and heaven, and he turned to the castle. 
 
 Presently a call resounded from the abyss. "My com- 
 rade, help ! My comrade, helj) ! I am still living, but I 
 am sorely wounded." 
 
 Sintram was on the point of going down to him, and 
 called out to the baron that he was coming ; but the little 
 master said : " There is no help for the shattered Duke 
 Menelaus, and the fair Helen knows it already. She is 
 only waiting for Knight Paris to come to comfort her." 
 And with detestable cunning he interwove the legend into 
 reality, introducing his highly wrought praises of the 
 beautiful lady ; and alas ! the dazzled youth yielded to him 
 and fled. 
 
 Distinctly he still heard from afar the baron's call : 
 " Knight Sintram ! Knight Sintram ! thou on whom I be- 
 stowed the holy order, liaste to me and help me ! The she 
 bear is coming with her whelps, and my arm is useless ! 
 Knight Sintram ! Knight Sintram ! hasten to me and help 
 me!" 
 
 His cry was drowned by the furious speed with which 
 Sintram and his companions hurried along in their snow- 
 shoes and by the evil words of the little master, who ridi- 
 culed the pride with whicli Duke Menelaus had lately be- 
 haved toward the poor Sintram. At length he cried out : 
 " Good luck to you, Mrs. Bear ! good luck to you, you 
 young whelps ! you will have a delicious meal ! you will 
 feed upon the terror of heathendom, upon him at whose 
 name the Moorish brides weep, the great Baron of Mont- 
 
BIN TEAM AND SIS COMPANIONS. 263 
 
 aucon. Now no more, oh ! thou dainty knight ! now no 
 lore wilt thou shout at the head of thy troops : Mountjoy 
 It. Denys ! " 
 
 But scarcely had this holy name passed the lips of the 
 ittle master than he raised a howl of anguish, writhed 
 imself in horrible contortions, and, at length, moaning and 
 irringing his hands, vanished away in a storm of snow. 
 
 Sintram planted his staff in the ground and stood still, 
 ^he vast expanse of snow, the distant mountains rising 
 hove it, and the gloomy forests of fir — with what cold, 
 eproachful silence they all seemed to look at him ! He 
 elt as if he must sink under the weight of his misery and 
 lis guilt. The bell of a distant hermitage fell sadly on 
 lis ear. 
 
 Bursting into tears in the increasing night, he exclaimed: 
 ' My mother ! my motljer ! I had once a dear careful 
 tiother, and she said I was a good child ! " 
 
 Then he felt a thought of comfort wafted to him as by 
 ,ngels that perhaps Montfaucon was not yet dead ; and 
 rith the speed of lightning he fled back to the rock. 
 
 Having reached the terrible place, he bent down over the 
 irecipice, looking anxiously. The moon, just rising in all 
 ler splendor, helped him with her light. 
 
 There was the knight of Montfaucon, pale and bleeding, 
 eaning, half kneeling against the rock ; his right arm hung 
 rushed and powerless by his side ; it was evident that he 
 lad not been able to draw his good sword from the scab- 
 lard. And yet he was keeping the bear and her whelps at 
 •ay with his proud eye and threatening aspect, so that they 
 inly crept round him, growling angrily ; ready indeed at 
 ,ny moment for a fierce attack, and yet again retreating 
 .ffrighted before the majestic figure of the defenseless 
 'ictor. 
 
 "Oh ! what a hero might have perished here ! " sighed 
 sintram ; " and alas ! through whose fault." And in an 
 
264 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 instant he had hurled his spear with so true an aim that the 
 bear fell weltering in its blood, and the young ones ran 
 howling away. 
 
 The baron looked up with surprise. His countenance 
 shone with the light of the moon tliat beamed upon it ; it 
 looked grave and severe, and yet kindh', like some angelic 
 vision. "Come down!" he signed, and Sintram glided 
 carefully and hastily down the precipice. He was about to 
 attend to the wounded man, but Folko said : " First take 
 off the head and claws of the bear which I killed. I have 
 promised ray beautiful Gabrielle the spoils of the chase. 
 Then come to me and bind up my wounds ; my right arm 
 is broken." 
 
 Sintram did as the baron bade him. When the tokens 
 of victory had been taken, and the fractured arm bound up, 
 Folko desired the j'outh to assist him back to tlie castle. 
 
 " Oh, if I only dai-ed to look you in the face ! " said Sin- 
 tram in a low voice, " or if I only knew how to approach 
 you ! " 
 
 "Thou wert indeed on a verj"- evil course," replied 
 Montfaucon gravely, " but how should we men stand at 
 all before God, if repentance did not help us ! Thou must 
 always be he who saved my life, and let that thought bring 
 thee comfort." 
 
 Tlie youth supported the baron gently and vigorously on 
 his way, and both advanced silently in the moonlight. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Sounds of wailing met them from the castle as tliej^ ap- 
 proached ; the chapel was solemnly lighted up ; within it 
 knelt Gabrielle, sorrowing for the death of the knight of 
 Montfaucon. 
 
 But how quickly was all changed, when the noble baron, 
 pale and bloody it is true, but escaped from all mortal peril, 
 
SmTRA3I AND BIS COMPANIOm. 265 
 
 Stood smilingly at the entrance of the holy building, and 
 said in a soft, gentle voice : " Calm thyself, Gabrielle, and 
 do not be frightened at seeing me, for, by the honor of my 
 race, thy knight lives." 
 
 Oh ! with what joy did Gabrielle's eyes sparkle as she 
 looked at her knight, and then raised them again to heaven, 
 still streaming with tears, but from the blessed source of 
 grateful joy ! With the help of two pages, Folko sunk on 
 his knees beside her, and both sanctified their happiness in 
 silent prayer. 
 
 When they left the chapel, the wounded knight carefully 
 supported by his beautiful lady, Sintram was standing in 
 the darkness without, gloomy as the night, and shy as the 
 nocturnal birds. Yet he stepped tremblingly forward in 
 the light of the torches, laid the bear's head and claws at 
 Gabrielle's feet, and said : " These are the spoils of to-day's 
 chase, brought by the noble baron of Montfaacon for his 
 lady." The ISTorvvegians burst forth in shouts and acclama- 
 tions at the stranger knight, who at his very first hunting 
 expedition had slain the most splendid and fearful of all 
 the beasts of prey on their mountains. Tlien Folko looked 
 smilingly round the circle, and said : " Now, however, 
 there are some of you who must not laugh again at me, if 
 I stay at home sometimes with a pretty wife." But those 
 who had spoken the day before in the armorer's hall, came 
 forward, bowing low, and replied : " Noble sir, who could 
 suppose that there was no knightly exercise in the whole 
 world in which you would not show yourself mighty above 
 all other men ? " 
 
 " Something may be expected of the pupil of old Sir 
 Hugh," returned Folko kindly. " But now, brave northern 
 heroes, praise my deliverer, also, for he rescued me from the 
 claws of the she-bear, when I was leaning against the rock, 
 wounded with my fall." 
 
 He pointed to Sintram, and the general shout of rejoic- 
 
266 81NTRAM AND HIS COMPAmoNS. 
 
 ing again burst forth, and the old Rolf bowed his head 
 over his foster-son's hand, with tears of joy sparkling in his 
 eyes. 
 
 But Sintram drew back shudderingly. " Did you know," 
 he said, " whom you have before you, all your lances would 
 be leveled at my breast, and perhaps that would be the 
 best thing for me. Yet I spare the honor of my father and 
 of his race, and for this time I will not confess. Only so 
 much, noble Norwegians, must you know " 
 
 " Young man," interrupted Folko, with a look of reproof, 
 " again so fierce and bewildered ? I desire thee to be silent 
 resj)ecting thy dreaming fancies." Sintram at first obeyed 
 the baron's order, but scarcely had the latter begun smil- 
 ingly to ascend the castle steps, than he cried out : "Oh no, 
 thou noble wounded hero, stay awhile ! I will serve thee 
 in everything that thy heart can desire ; but in this I can- 
 not serve thee. Ye noble Norwegians, so much you shall 
 and must know, that I am no longer worthy to tarry under 
 the same roof with the great Folko of Montfaucon and his 
 angelic wife Gabrielle. And you, my aged father, good- 
 night, and calm your longing for me. I intend to live in 
 the stone castle on the Moon -Rocks until things are in some 
 way altered with me." 
 
 There was something in his words which no one could 
 venture to oppose, not even Folko. The wild Biorn bowed 
 his head humbly and said : " Do according to thy pleasure, 
 my poor son, for I fear that thou art right." 
 
 Then Sintram walked solemnly and silently through the 
 castle gate, the good Rolf following him. Gabrielle led 
 her exhausted lord up to his own apartments. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 It was a sad journey, that of the youth and his aged 
 foster-father, to the Moon-Rocks, through the wild tangled 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 267 
 
 paths of the valleys thick with snow and ice. Kolf now 
 and then sang verses of hymns in which the repentant 
 sinner is promised comfort and peace, and Sintram thanked 
 him for them with looks of grateful sadness. Otherwise, 
 neither of them spoke a siDgle word. 
 
 At last — it was already nearing dawn — Sintram broke 
 the long silence by saying, " Who are those two sitting 
 there by the frozen stream ? There is a tall man and a 
 little one. Their own wild hearts have doubtless driven 
 them also into the wilderness. Rolf, do you know them ? 
 I feel a dread of them." 
 
 " Sir," answered the old man, " your disturbed mind leads 
 you astray. There is a tall fir-tree, and a little weather- 
 beaten stump of an old oak, half-covered with snow, which 
 gives it a strange appearance. There are no men sitting 
 there." 
 
 " Rolf, look there, then ! look again carefully. They are 
 moving — they are whispering together ! " 
 
 " Sir, the morning wind moves the branches and rustles 
 among the needle-pine leaves, and among the yellow oak 
 leaves and blows up the crisp snow." 
 
 " Rolf, now they are both coming toward us ; they are 
 now standing quite close before us." 
 
 " Sir, it is we who in walking are approaching them, and 
 the setting moon casts such quaint-like shadows across the 
 valley." 
 
 " Good-evening," said a hollow voice, and Sintram recog- 
 nized the crazy pilgrim, by whose side stood the malicious 
 little master, looking more horrible than ever. 
 
 " You were right, sir knight," whispered Rolf, drawing 
 behind Sintram, and making the sign of the cross on his 
 breast and forehead. 
 
 The bewildered youth, however, advanced toward the two 
 figures, and said : " You have always shown a marvelous 
 pleasure in being my companions. What do you expect 
 
208 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 from it? And do you desire now to go with me to the 
 stone fortress ? I will tend thee there, poor pale pilgrim ; 
 and thee, horrible little master, most malicious of dwarfs, 
 I will make thee shorter by a head as a reward for thy 
 deeds yesterday." 
 
 "That would be a thing," laughed the little master. 
 " And thou wouldst imagine, perhaps, that thou hadst done 
 a great service to the whole world ! Yet, indeed, who 
 knows ! Something might be gained by it. Only, poor 
 fellow, thou canst not do it." 
 
 The pilgrim meanwhile was bowing his pale head to 
 and fro thoughtfully, and saying, " I really believe thou 
 wouldst gladly have me, and I too should gladly come, but 
 I may not yet. Have patience awhile ; come, I surely will, 
 but at a distant time ; and first we must together visit thy 
 father, and then thou wilt also learn, poor friend, to call 
 me by my name." 
 
 " Take heed of thwarting me again ! " said the little 
 master, threateningly, to the pilgrim ; but he, pointing with 
 his long withered hand toward the sun just rising, said, 
 " Stay either that sun or me, if thou canst ! " 
 
 The first rays just then fell upon the snow, and the little 
 master ran muttering down a precipice ; the pilgrim, how- 
 ever, walked on calmly and solemnly in the bright beams 
 toward .1 neighboring mountain castle. Not long after, the 
 chapel-bell was heard tolling for the dead. 
 
 " For heaven's sake," whispered the good Rolf to his 
 knight, " for heaven's sake. Sir Sintram, what sort of com- 
 panions have you ? The one cannot bear the light of 
 God's beautiful sun, the other scarcely enters a dwelling 
 before the death-knell follows his footsteps. Can he per- 
 haps have been a murderer ? " 
 
 " I do not think so," said Sintram. " He seems to me 
 the best of the two. Only that he will not come to me is 
 a strange piece of willfulness. Did I not invite him kindly ? 
 
SINTBAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 269 
 
 i^-iagine he sings well, and lie should have sung some 
 illaby to me. Since my mother went into the cloister, 
 one sings me any more cradle songs." 
 
 His eyes were bedewed with tears at the tender recollec- 
 on. But he did not know himself what he had said be- 
 des, for his mind was wild and confused. 
 
 They were approaching the Moon-Rocks, and they 
 scended toward the stone fortress. The castellan, an old, 
 loomy man, espeoiallj' devoted to the young knight from 
 is melancholy and dark wild deeds, hastened to let down 
 le drawbridge. Silently they exchanged greetings, and 
 lently did Sintram enter, and the joyless portals closed 
 ith a crash behind the future anchorite. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Yes, indeed, an anchorite, or at least something but little 
 lore social, did the poor Sintram now soon become ! For 
 )ward the approaching holy Christmas festival his fearful 
 reams attacked him, and seized him this time so terribly 
 lat all the squires and servants fled screaming from the 
 istle and would not venture back again. No one remained 
 ith him but Rolf and the old castellan. 
 Sintram, indeed, grew quiet again, but he went about 
 loking so pale and still that he might have been taken for 
 moving corpse. No consolation from the good Rolf, no 
 evout and pleasing song any longer availed to help ; and 
 le castellan, with his wUd, scarred face, his head almost 
 aid from some monstrous sword-cut, and his stubborn 
 lence, was almost like a yet darker shadow of the unhappy 
 night. Rolf thought of summoning the holy chaplain of 
 >rontheim, but how could he have left his master all alone 
 ith the gloomy castellan— a man who had at all times 
 scited in him a secret feeling of dread. Biorn had long 
 
2 TO SINTRAM AND HI8 COMPANIONS. 
 
 had tlie wild strange warrior in his service, and he honored 
 him on account of his steady fidelity and his immense valor, 
 without the knight or any one else knowing whence the 
 castellan came and who he really was. Indeed, few people 
 knew by what name to call him, but the knowledge seemed 
 needless, as he never entered into conversation with any 
 one. He was just the castellan of the stone castle on the 
 Moon-Rocks, and nothing further. 
 
 Rolf committed his deep, heartfelt cares to the merciful 
 God, believing that He would help him, and the merciful 
 God did help him. 
 
 For it was just on Christmas eve that the bell at the 
 drawbridge sounded, and when Rolf looked over the 
 battlements he saw the chaplain of Drontheim standing 
 without, in strange company indeed, for by his side ap- 
 peared the crazy pilgrim, and the dead men's bones on his 
 dark mantle shone quite awfully in the glimmering star- 
 light ; but the presence of the chaplain filled the old Rolf 
 with too much joy to allow much room for doubt ; " be- 
 sides," thought he, " whoever comes with him must be wel- 
 come ! " and so he admitted them both with respectful 
 haste, and conducted them up to the hall where Sintram 
 was sitting, pale and motionless, under the light of a single 
 flickering lamp. Rolf was obliged to support and help the 
 crazy pilgrim up the stairs, for he was quite benumbed 
 with cold. 
 
 " I bring you a greeting from your mother," said the 
 chaplain as he entered, and a sweet smile at once passed 
 over the young knight's countenance, and its deadly pallor 
 gave place to a soft glow of red. " Oh, heaven ! " he mur- 
 mured, " does my mother then still live, and does she wish 
 also to know anything of me ? " 
 
 " She is endowed with a great and mighty power of pre- 
 sentiment," replied the chaplain, " and whatever you either 
 do or leave undone is mirrored in her mind — half waking 
 
SIN TRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 271 
 
 md half dreaming — in many wonderful visions. She now 
 knows of your deep sorrow, and she sends me, the father- 
 confessor of her convent, hither to comfort you, but also 
 at the same time to warn you, for, as slie asserts and as I 
 am inclined to believe, many andsevere trials lie before 
 you." 
 
 Sintram bowed, holding his arms" still crossed over his 
 breast, and said with a gentle smile, " Much has been 
 vouchsafed to me ; more than I had ventured to hope in 
 my boldest moments ; ten thousand times more by my 
 mother's greeting and your consolation, reverend sir ; and 
 all this after a fall more great and terrible than I have 
 ever had before. The mercy of the Lord is great, and 
 however severe the burden He may send for trial and expi- 
 ation, I hope with His help to be able to bear it." 
 
 Just then the door opened and the castellan entered with 
 a torch, the red glare of which crimsoned his countenance. 
 He looked terrified at the crazy pilgrim, who had just 
 sunk fainting on a seat, supported and tended by Rolf ; 
 then he stared as if with amazement at the chaplain, and 
 at length murmured, " Strange meeting ! I believe the 
 hour for confession and reconciliation is arrived." 
 
 "I believe so, too," replied the holy father, who had 
 heard the whispered words. " It seems, indeed, to be a day 
 rich in grace and peace. This poor fellow here, whom I 
 found half frozen by the way, was more anxious to confess 
 to me at once than to follow me to a hospitable hearth ; do 
 as he has done, my dark, fiery warrior, and delay not your 
 good intention for one instant." So saying he left the 
 room with the castellan, and, turning back at the door, ex- 
 claimed, "Knight and squire, take good care, meanwhile, 
 of ray sick charge." 
 
 Sintram and Rolf did as the chaplain desired, and when 
 at length their cordials so revived the pilgrim that he 
 opened his eyes again, the young knight said, with a 
 
272 SINTRASI AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 friendly smile, "Seest thou, now thou'st come to visit me 
 after all. Why didst thou refuse me when I invited thee 
 so earnestly a few nights ago ? I may have spoken, perhaps, 
 somewhat wildly and hastily. Possibly thou wast thus 
 frightened away." 
 
 A sudden expression of fear passed over the pilgrim's 
 countenance, but he immediately looked up again at Sin- 
 tram with gentle humility, and said, " Oh dear, dear sir, I 
 am most thoroughly devoted to you. Only do not speak 
 always of the things which may have happened between 
 you and me. It terrifies me whenever you do it. For, sir, 
 either I am mad and have forgotten everything, or you met 
 in the forest him whom I look upon as my most mighty 
 twin-brother " 
 
 Sintram laid his hand gently on the pilgrim's lips, and 
 replied, " Do not say any more on the matter. I will 
 gladly promise to be silent." Neither he nor old Rolf 
 could understand while the whole thing appeared to them 
 so awful, but they both trembled. 
 
 After a pause the pilgrim began : " I would rather sing 
 you a song, a gentle consoling song. Have you not a lute 
 at hand ? " 
 
 Rolf fetched one, and the pilgrim, half raising himself 
 on the arm-chair, sang the following words : 
 
 When the last end draweth nigh, 
 
 And heart and limbs are failing fast, 
 
 Then look on high. 
 
 Then turn above thy prayerful eye ; 
 
 At Heaven's gate 
 
 Of mercy wait. 
 
 That God may help tliee at the last. 
 
 Seest thou how the East is gleaming ? 
 Hear'st thou the bright angels singing 
 In the rosy blush of morn ? 
 Thou wert so long in darkness dreaming, 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 2^3 
 
 And death is now a succor bringing, 
 
 On mercy's pinions borne. 
 
 Thou must give him kindly greeting, 
 
 And he cometh as a friend, 
 
 And by his welcome joyous meeting, 
 
 Placeth penance at an end. 
 
 When the last end draweth nigh, 
 
 And heart and limbs are failing fast. 
 
 Then look on high. 
 
 Then turn above thy prayerful eye ; 
 
 At Heaven's gate 
 
 Of mercy wait. 
 
 That God may help thee at the last. 
 
 " Amen ! " said Sintram and Rolf, folding their hands, 
 tid as the last notes of the lute died away, the chaplain 
 owly and softly entered the hall with the castellan. 
 
 " I bring you a precious Christmas gift," said the holy 
 ither. "After a long and bitter interval, peace of con- 
 jience and reconciliation are returning to a noble disturbed 
 lind. It concerns thee, dear pilgrim ; and Sintram, do 
 lou, with joyful trust in God, take a refreshing example 
 •cm it." 
 
 " More than twenty years ago," began the castellan, at 
 
 sign from the chaplain ; " more than twenty years ago, I 
 'as driving my sheep up the mountains as a bold shepherd ; 
 
 young knight followed me, whom they called Weigand 
 le Slender ; he wanted to buy my favorite lamb for his 
 )vely bride, and he offered me plenty of glittering gold 
 )r it. I sturdily refused him. Impetuous youth was 
 oiling within us both — a stroke of his sword hurled me 
 mseless down the precipice.'' 
 
 "Not killed? " cried the pilgrim, in a scarcely audible voice. 
 
 " I am no ghost," replied the castellan, grimly ; and then 
 t a serious sign from the holy father, he continued in a 
 lore humble tone; 
 
274 SINTRAM AND HI8 COMPANIONS. 
 
 " I recovered slowly and in solitude by the use of tho 
 remedies which were easily found by me, a shepherd, 
 our rich valleys. When I came forth again no one reco. 
 nized me with my scarred face and my bald head. I heai 
 a report through the country that on account of that dec 
 Weigand the Slender had been rejected by his beautif 
 betrothed Verena, that he had pined away, and that she ha 
 wished to retire into a convent, but that her father had pe 
 suaded her to marry the great Knight Biorn. Then a te 
 rible desire for vengance came into my heart, and I di 
 owned my name and kindred and home, and as a Strang 
 wild man I entered the service of the mighty Biorn, tin 
 suffering Weigand the Slender ever to be regarded as 
 murderer, and feasting on his anguish. So have I feasted c 
 it, therefore, through all these long years ; frightfully feas 
 ing on the idea of his self -banisliment, of his cheerless retui 
 home, and of his madness. But to-day," — and a gush i 
 hot tears fell from his eyes,—" to-day God has broken tl 
 hardness of my heart, and dear Sir Knight Weigand, loc 
 upon yourself no longer as a murderer, and say that y( 
 will pardon me, and pray for him who has so terrib 
 wronged you, and " 
 
 Sobs choked his words. He fell down at the feet of tl 
 pilgrim, who embraced him with tears of joy and forgai 
 him. 
 
 CHAPTER, XXI. 
 
 The elevated feelings of this hour passed from the 
 holy and overpowering enthusiasm to the calm, thoughtf 
 aspect of daily life, and Weigand, having now recovere 
 laid aside his mantle with the dead men's bones, sayinj 
 " I chose as a penance to carry these fearful remains abo 
 with me in the idea that some of them might belong to hi 
 >^rhom I had Eqiurdered, Henoe I sought fpr them deep 
 
aiNTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 275 
 
 the beds of the mountain-torrents, and high up among tlie 
 nests of the eagles and vultures. And in my search it 
 seemed to me sometimes — could it have been only an illu- 
 gjon ? — it seemed to me as if I met a being almost like my- 
 self, but far, far more powerful, and yet still more pale and 
 still more haggard." 
 
 An imploring glance from Sintram checked the flow of 
 his words. Smiling gently, Weigand bent over him, and 
 said : 
 
 " You now know the deep, the unutterably deep sorrow 
 which has been gnawing at my heart. My shyness of you, 
 and my hearty love for you, will no longer be a riddle to 
 your waiTa and kindly feelings. For, young man, however 
 much you may resemble your fearful father, you have your 
 mother's gentle heart, and its reflection brightens your pale, 
 severe features, like the rosy morning that casts its soft 
 gleams of light over ice-covered mountains and snowy 
 valleys. And alas ! how long have you lived alone within 
 yourself, though amid crowds of human beings ! And 
 how long now since you have seen your mother, my poor, 
 dearly loved Sintram ? " 
 
 "I feel though," replied the youth, "as if a spring were 
 gushing up in the barren wilderness ; and I should perhaps 
 be completely restored could I only longer retain you and 
 weep with you, my dear sir. But I have already a sense 
 within me that you will now soon be taken from me." 
 
 " I believe truly," said the pilgrim, " that my late song 
 will be almost my last, and that it contained a prediction 
 to be very, very speedily fulfilled in me. But oh ! as the 
 soul of man is like an ever-thirsty soil — the more blessings 
 bestowed on us by God, the more imploringly do we look 
 for new ones — I would crave for yet one thing more before 
 the blessed end I hope for comes. It will not indeed be 
 granted me," he continued, with a failing voice, " for I feel 
 myself too unworthy for so high a gift." 
 
2^6 8INTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 "It will nevei-tJieless be granted you ! " said the cliapli 
 in a Icud and joyful tone. "'He that humbletb hims 
 shall be exalted ' ; and I may surely venture to take ( 
 purified from murder to receive a farewell from Verer 
 holy and forgiving countenance," 
 
 The pilgrim stretched both his hands up to heaven, i 
 an unspoken prayer of gratitude poured from his beam 
 eyes and from the happy smile upon liis lips. Sintn 
 however, looked sadly down, and whispered softly to h 
 self, " Ah ! could I but go with him ! " 
 
 " Poor, good Sintrara," said the chaplain, in a kind i 
 gentle tone, "I have heard thy desire, but the time is 
 yet come. The powers of evil within thee may yet r£ 
 their wrathful heads, and Verena must restrain both 
 own and thy longing desire, until all is pure within i 
 spirit as it is in hers. Console thyself therefore with 
 thought that God is inclining toward thee, and that 
 longed-for peace will come — if not here, assuredly beyc 
 the grave." 
 
 But the pilgrim, as if awaking from some trance of r 
 ture, rose mightily from his seat, and said, -" Will it pie 
 you to come forth with me. Sir Chaplain ? Before the i 
 appears in the sky we can be at the convent gates ; i 
 even I shall be closely nearing beaven." 
 
 It was in vain that both the chaplain and Rolf rej 
 sented to him his weariness ; he smiled and said that th 
 conld be no talk of that now, and he girded himself i 
 tuned the lute, which he requested to take with him a 
 companion by the way. His decided manner overcame 
 opposition, almost without words : and the chaplain 1 
 already prepared himself for the journey, when with mi 
 emotion the pilgrim looked at Sintram, who had fallen 1: 
 asleep on a couch, oppressed with a strange weariness, i 
 said, "Wait a while. I know he desires a soft lulh 
 from me before we go." The youth's grateful smile seen 
 
8INTBAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 277 
 
 to say " Yes, " and the pilgrim, touching the strings with 
 a light iinger, sang : 
 
 Sleep calmly, gentle boy ! 
 
 To soothe thy tranquil slumbers. 
 Thy mother sends to thee 
 
 The song's beguiling numbers. 
 In silence and afar, 
 
 For thee she fondly prayeth. 
 And yearneth to be with thee. 
 
 Although the time delayeth. 
 
 And when thou dost awake, 
 
 Give heed in all thou sayest. 
 In every act and deed 
 
 That thou her words obeyest. 
 Oh ! hear thy mother's voice. 
 
 Each yea, each nay, that's spoken. 
 And though temptation lurk. 
 
 Thy path is still unbroken. 
 
 If thou dost rightly hearken. 
 
 Upon thine onward going. 
 Thy youthful brow will feel 
 
 Full many a zephyr blowing. 
 And on thy peaceful course, 
 
 Thou'lt know her fervent blessing, 
 And feel, though far divided. 
 
 The mother's fond caressing. 
 
 Oh blessed light of life I 
 
 Mysterious consolation ! 
 Whose heavenly power dispels 
 
 Each dread imagination. 
 Sleep calmly, gentle boy ! 
 
 To soothe thy tranquil slumbers. 
 Thy mother sends to thee 
 
 The song's beguiling numbers. 
 
 Sintram slept, with a smile on his countenance, and 
 breathing softly. Rolf and the castellan remained sitting 
 
278 SINTBAM AND HIS COMPANIom. 
 
 by his bedside, wbile the two travelers pursued their way 
 in a mild starlight night. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 Day had nearly dawned, when Rolf, who had been sleep- 
 ing a little, woke at the sound of some low singing, and on 
 looking round he perceived with astonishment that it came 
 from the lips of the castellan. The latter said, as if in 
 explanation, "Sir Weigand is now singing this at the con- 
 vent gate, and they are opening to him kindly," upon 
 which the old Rolf again fell asleep, uncertain whether he 
 had heard it waking or in a dream. 
 
 After a while, however, the bright sunlight awakened 
 him again, and when he rose up he saw the face of the 
 castellan wonderfully illuminated by the rosy morning 
 beams, and the whole countenance of the once fearful mar 
 shone with a kindly, nay almost child-like mildness. At 
 the same time the strange man seemed listening in the 
 quiet air as if he were hearing some most delightful dis- 
 course or glorious music, and when Rolf was on the point 
 of speaking he signed to him entreatingly to be quiet, and 
 remained absorbed in the same listening attitude. 
 
 At length he sank back slowly and contentedly in his 
 seat, whispering : " Thank God, she has granted his last 
 request ; he will be laid in the convent burial-ground, and 
 now he has also forgiven me in the depth of his heart. 1 
 can tell you his end is truly peaceful." 
 
 Rolf did not venture to ask a question, nor to awaker 
 his master ; he felt as if one already departed were speak- 
 ing to him. 
 
 The castellan remained for some time still, and a bright 
 smile spread over his face. At length he raised himself 
 up a little, listened again, and said : "It is over, the bells 
 
8INTEAM AND E18 COMPANIONS. 279 
 
 sound very sweetly ; we have overcome. Oh ! how soft 
 and easy does the good God make it ! " 
 
 And so it was. He stretched himself wearily back, and 
 his soul was freed from his careworn body. 
 
 Rolf now gently awakened his young knight, and 
 pointed to the smiling dead. Sintram smiled too ; and he 
 and his good squire fell on their knees and prayed to God 
 for the departed spirit. Then they rose and bore the cold 
 body into the vaulted hall, and watched by it with conse- 
 crated tapers until the chaplain should return. TJjat the 
 pilgrim would not come again they knew well. 
 
 Toward inidday the chaplain came back alone. He 
 could only confirm what they already knew. He only 
 added a comforting and hopeful greeting from Sintram's 
 mother to her son, and told how the happy Weigand had 
 fallen asleep like a weary child, while Verena had ever 
 held the crucifix before him with calm tenderness. 
 
 That God may help thee at the last, 
 
 sang Sintram softly to himself, and they prepared a last 
 resting-place for the now peaceful castellan, and solemnly 
 lowered him into it with all the customary rites. The 
 chaplain was obliged to leave immediately afterward, but 
 at parting he again said kindly to Sintram, " Thy dear 
 mother surely knows how gentle, calm, and good thou now 
 art ! " 
 
 CHAPTER XXm. 
 
 In the castle of the Knight Biorn of the Fiery Eyes, 
 Christmas Eve had not been kept so purely and happily, 
 but nevertheless God's will had been clearly manifested 
 even there. 
 
 Folko, at the request of the lord of the castle, had al- 
 lowed himself to be supported by Gabrielle into the hall, 
 and the three were sitting at the round stone table over a 
 
280 8INTBAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 sumptuous repast, while at long tables on each side sat 
 retainers of both knights in full armor, according to 1 
 wegian custom. The lofty apartment was almost daz; 
 with the light of tapers and lamps. 
 
 The deep night had already begun its solemn reign, 
 Gabrielle softly reminded her wounded knight to withdi 
 Biorn heard the reminder and said, " You are quite rij 
 fair lady ; our knight needs rest ; only let us first not 
 gleet an old and venerable custom." 
 
 And at a sign from him four of liis warriors brough 
 with solemn pomp a great boar, which looked as if it v 
 made of solid gold, and placed it in the center of the st 
 table. Biorn's retainers rose reverentially, placing t 
 helmets under their arms, and the lord of the castle h 
 self did the same. 
 
 " What is meant by this ? " inquired Folko, very grav 
 "What thine ancestors and mine have done on every y 
 feast," replied Biorn ; " we are going to make vows 
 Friga's boar, and then let the goblet go round." 
 
 " What our ancestors called yule-feast," said Folko, " 
 do not keep. We are good Christians, and we celeb] 
 the holy Christmas-tide." 
 
 " We may do the one and not leave the other undoi 
 answered Biorn. " My ancestors are too dear to me 
 me to forget their knightly customs. He who regard 
 otherwise may act according to his own wisdom, but 1 
 shall not hinder me. I swear by this golden boar," and 
 stretched out his hand to lay it solemnly upon it. 
 
 But Folko of Montfaucon called out, " Hold ! in 
 name of our holy Saviour ! Where I am and while I 
 still breathe and will, no one shall celebrate undistur 
 the rites of wild heathens." 
 
 Biorn of the Fiery Eyes looked at him fiercely. The 
 tainers of both knights separated amid the sound of rattl 
 armor, and arranged themselves in two bands, each beh 
 
SINTEAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 281 
 
 their leader, on either side of the hall. And already, here 
 and there, helmets and casques were buckled on. 
 
 " Consider what thou art doing," said BiOrn. "I desired 
 eternal and true union ; ay, I was on the point of vowing 
 grateful fealty to the Iiouse of Montfaucon, but if thou 
 interferest with me in the customs which have descended 
 to me from my fathers, see to thy head and to all that is 
 dear to tliee. My anger no longer knows any bounds." 
 
 Folko signed to the pale Gabrielle to withdraw behind 
 his retainers, and said to her, " Courage and joy, noble 
 lady ! Many weaker Christians, for God's sake and that 
 of the holy church, have braved greater perils than those 
 that now seem to threaten us. Believe me it is not so easy 
 a matter to ensnare the Baron of Montfaucon." 
 
 Gabrielle drew back at Folko's order, somewhat quieted 
 by the bold smile of her lord ; but this very smile inflamed 
 Biorn's anger still more. He again stretched out his hand 
 toward the boar, and was on the point of uttering a terrible 
 vow, when the baron snatched an iron gauntlet of Biorn's 
 from the table, and with his unwounded left arm struck 
 such a powerful blow with it at the golden image that, 
 dashed in twain, it fell crashing to the ground. The lord 
 of the castle and his followers stood around as if petrified. 
 
 Armed hands quickly seized their weapons, shields were 
 lifted from the walls, and an angry, fiercely threatening 
 murmur passed through the hall. At a sign from Folko 
 one of his faithful followers reached him a battle-ax, and 
 swinging it high with his mighty left arm he stood like an 
 avenging angel in the midst of 'the hall, and uttered these 
 words througli the tumult with the composure of a judge : 
 
 " "What wilt thou, infatuated Norwegian ? What dost 
 thou desire, thou sinful lord ; ye are indeed become 
 heathens, and I hope to show you by my readiness for 
 combat, that in my one uninjured arm has my God placed 
 Strength for victory. If ye can yet hear, listen to my 
 
282 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 words ! Upon tliis same accursed boar's image, now hy God 
 help shattered to pieces, hast thou, Biorn, laid thine banc 
 when thou didst swear to destroy every man from the sei 
 ports who might chance to fall into thy power. And Got 
 hard Lenz came, and Rudlieb came, driven by the tempes 
 to your shore. What didst thou then do, thou savag 
 Biorn? What did ye do in compliance with him, ye, wh 
 were with him at the yule-feast ? Try your utmost on m( 
 The Lord will be with me as He was with those good mer 
 Forward ! to arms ! " and he turned toward his warriors 
 " Let Gotthard and Rudlieb be our battle cry ! " 
 
 Biorn let his drawn sword drop, his warriors wer 
 hushed, and not an eye in the Norwegian host was raisei 
 from the ground. At length, one after another, they bega 
 softly to slip away. At last, Biorn alone stood opposite th 
 baron and his followers. He seemed, however, scarcely t 
 perceive his deserted condition, but, sinking on his knees 
 he stretched out his gleaming sword, pointed to the shal 
 tered boar, and said : 
 
 "Do with me as you have done with that. I have d( 
 served nothing better. Only one thing I implore, ovA 
 one ; do not inflict on me the shame, great baron, of r( 
 pairing to another Norwegian fortress." 
 
 "I fear you not," replied Folko, after some reflection 
 " and so far as it can be, I pardon you gladly." So sayin, 
 he drew the sign of the cross over the wild form of Bior 
 of the Fiery Eyes, and allowed Gabrielle to conduct hit 
 to his apartments. The retainers of the house of Mom 
 faucon followed him proudly and silently. 
 
 The bard spirit of the grim lord of the castle was nc 
 entirely broken, and with increased humility he awaite 
 every look of Folko and of Gabrielle. They, howeve: 
 withdrew more and more into the cheerful society of thei 
 own apartments, where even in the midst of the icy nortl 
 ern winter they enjoyed a spring-tide of happiness. Th 
 
8INTBAM AND SIS COMPANIONS. 283 
 
 wounded condition of the baron did not hinder the evening 
 amusements of tale and lute and song ; far rather, it 
 afforded a new and charming picture, when the handsome 
 tall knight leaned on the arm of the delicate lady, and 
 thus reversing their bearing and duties they would 
 wander together through the torch-lit halls, scattering 
 their kindly greetings like flowers among the assembled 
 men and women. Little or no mention was now ever 
 made of the poor Siatram. The last wild behavior of his 
 father had increased the terror with which Gabrielle had 
 remembered the self-accusation of the youth, and just be- 
 cause Folko was so immovably silent on the matter did 
 she all the more forebode some fearful mystery. Indeed, a 
 secret shudder came even over tlie baron when he thought 
 of the pale, black-haired youtli. Plis repentance had al- 
 most bordered on fixed despair, and no one knew what he 
 was doing in the ill-renowned stone fortress on the Moon- 
 Eooks. Mysterious rumors came from the fugitive retain- 
 ers of how the evil spirit had now gained complete domin- 
 ion over Sintram, that no one could any longer stay with 
 him, and that the strange, gloomy castellan had paid for 
 his adherence to him with his life. Folko could scarcely 
 resist the fearful suspicion that the solitary youth had be- 
 come a hardened magician. 
 
 And truly, many evil spirits did flutter round the ban- 
 ished man, but it was without a summons from himself. 
 It often seemed to him in his dreams as if the wicked en- 
 chantress Venus were hovering over the battlements of the 
 fortress in a golden chariot drawn by winged cats, and 
 calling scornfully to him, " Foolish Sintram ! foolish Sin- 
 tram ! hadst thou but obeyed the little master ! thou 
 wouldst now be lying in Helen's arms, and the Moon- 
 Rocks would be the rooks of love, and tbe stone fortress 
 would be the castle of roses. Thou wouldst have lost thy 
 pale face and thy dark hair— for thou art only bewitched, 
 
284 SINTUAM A AD HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 dear youth — and tliine eyes would have shone more mildly, 
 tliy clieeks more blooming than ever the world admired in 
 the Knight Paris. Oh ! how Helen would have loved 
 thee ! " Then she would show him in a mirror how he 
 looked as he knelt before Gabrielle, as a handsome knight, 
 and how she, softly blushing, had fallen into his arms. 
 
 When he awoke from such visions he would seize eagerlj 
 the sword and scarf once given him by his lady, just as 
 some shipwrecked man grasps the planks of safety, and he 
 would weep hot tears over tliem, and whisper secretly tc 
 himself, " So there was indeed one single hour in my mis- 
 erable life when I was worthy and happy." 
 
 Once he started up at midnight from a similar dream, but 
 this time with thrilling terror, for it had seemed to him as 
 if the beautiful alluring features of the enchantress Venus 
 had become distorted at the end of her speech by the scorn 
 with which she glanced down upon him, and that now 
 she looked almost like the terrible little master. 
 
 The youth could never calm his disturbed mind better 
 than by throwing the sword and scarf of Gabrielle across 
 his shoulders and hurrying forth under the solemn stari^ 
 expanse of the wintry sky. Beneath the leafless oaks and 
 the snow-laden firs, which grew upon the high ramparts, 
 he would wander up and down absorbed in thought. 
 
 Once it seemed as if a melancholy groan sounded from 
 the moat below, as if some one were at times attempting to 
 sing, but could not from inward grief. Upon Sintram's ex- 
 claiming, "Who's there?" all was still. But when he was 
 silent and began to walk again the fearful moanings broke 
 forth anew as from some dying person. 
 
 Sintram overcame the horror, which seemed all-powerful 
 to restrain him, and clambered silently down to the dry 
 moat which was cut in the rock. He was already so deep 
 within it that he could no longer see the stars shining ; 
 beneath him he perceived a shrouded figure moving ; and 
 
SINTBAM AND BIS COMPANIONS. 285 
 
 with involuntaiy vapidity he suddenly slid down tlie steep 
 descent and stood by the side of the groaning form. The 
 lamentations at once ceased, and a laugh like that of a 
 maniac came from the wide fold of the female garments : 
 "Ho, ho! my comrade! Ho, ho ! my comrade ! That was 
 a little too quick for tliee ! Well, well, so it is, and see 
 now thou standest after all no higher than I, my good 
 Yaliaiit youth. Take it patiently, take it patiently." 
 
 "What dost thou want with me ? Why dost thou laugh ? 
 Wliy dost thou groan?" inquired Sintram impatiently. 
 
 "i might ask thee the same," replied the dark figure, 
 "and thou wouldst be far less able to answer me than I am 
 to answer thee. 'Why dost tbou laugh ? Why dost thou 
 ■v,reep— poor fellow?' But I will show thee one remarkable 
 thing in thy stone fortress of whicb thou as yet kuowest 
 nothing. Give heed ! " 
 
 And the mantled figure scratched and scraped at the 
 stones, and a little iron door opened, revealing a dark 
 passage which led into profound darkness. 
 
 " Wilt tliou come with mfe ? " whispered the strange 
 being. " It leads to thy father's castle by the shortest way. 
 In half an hour we shall be out of it, and it opens into the 
 sleeping apartment of thy beautiful lady. Duke Menelaus 
 shall lie in a magic sleep ; leave that to me. And then 
 tliou canst take the delicate and slender form in thine 
 arras and bear her here to the Moon-Rocks, and tbou wilt 
 win back all that seemed lost by thy former wavering." 
 
 Sintram visibly trembled, fearfully overwhelmed with 
 passion, and yet feeling the stings of conscience. But at 
 last, pressing scarf and Sword to his heart, he exclaimed : 
 " Oh, that fairest, most glorious hour of my life ! Let all 
 other joys be lost, that bright hour I will ever hold fast ! " 
 
 "A fair, bright hour," said a scornful voice beneath the 
 veil, like some evil echo. " Knowest thou then whom thou 
 didst conquer ? A good old friend, who only showed him- 
 
286 8INTBAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 self so furious, tliat lie miglit at last increase tliy glor; 
 his overtlirovy ! Wilt thou ooiiviuce thyself? Wilt t 
 look?" 
 
 And the dark garments of the little figure flew open, 
 tliere stood before him the dwarf -like warrior in the stra 
 armor, the golden horns on his helmet, the carved spea 
 his hand, the very same whom Sintram thought he '. 
 slain on Niflung's Heath, and laughing, he exclain 
 " Thou seest, my youth, in the whole wide world ther 
 nothing but dream and froth : so hold fast the dream wl 
 delights thee, and sip the froth which refreshes thee. ]S 
 then for the subterranean passage ! It leads up to 
 angel Helen. Or wouldst thou like first to know thy f ri 
 still better ? " 
 
 His visor opened, and the hideous face of the little mai 
 met the knight's gaze, who asked, as if half in a dre 
 " Art thou perhaps also that wicked enchantress, Veuui 
 
 " The same block ! " said the little master, laughing ; ' 
 rather she is from the same block as I am. Only man 
 that thou art disenchanted and transformed back into 
 beautiful Prince Paris ; then, oh Prince Paris " — and 
 voice changed to an alluring song — " then, oh Prince Ps 
 I shall be fair like thee." 
 
 At the same moment the good Rolf appeared on 
 ramparts above, and with a consecrated taj)er in his lan1 
 he cast its light down upon the moat, seeking for 
 missing young knight. " For heaven's sake, Sir Sintra 
 he called out, " what has the specter of him whom 
 slew on Niflung's Heath, and whom I never could bury 
 do with you ? " 
 
 " Seest thou it well ? Hearst thou it well ? " whispc 
 the little master, drawing back into the shadow of 
 subterranean passage. " The wise man up there knows 
 right well. Thy heroic deed was nought. Enjoy 
 pleasures of life while thou mayst ! " 
 
SINTBAM ASD HIS C0MPANI0S8. 287 
 
 But Sinti-am sprang back with a mighty effort into the 
 circle of light formed by the taper above, and cried in a 
 threatening voice : " Depart from me, unquiet spirit ! I 
 know I bear a name within me in which thou canst have 
 
 no part ! " 
 
 Angry and alarmed, the little master ran into the pas- 
 sage, and closed the iron door, with a yell, behind him. 
 It seemed as if he could be heard within groaning and 
 roarii^g. 
 
 Sintram, however, climbed up the wall, and, signing to his 
 old foster-father to be silent, he only said, " One of my 
 best joys, yes, my very best joy, has been taken from me, 
 but, nevertheless, by God's help, I am not lost." 
 
 In the first gleams of the morrow s dawn he and Rolf 
 walled up the door leading to the dangerous passage with 
 huge blocks of stone. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 The long northern winter was at last over : the woods 
 rustled gladly with their fresh green leaves, kindly patches 
 of vendure peeped forth from the rocks, the valleys grew 
 green, the brooks gushed away, only on the highest moun- 
 tain summits the snow still lingered, and Folko's bark danced, 
 ready for sail, on the sunny waves of the sea. 
 
 The baron, now wholly recovered, and strong and fresh 
 as though his knightly strength had never been impeded 
 by illness, was standing one morning on the shore with his 
 beautiful wife, and, glad at theii- approaching return home, 
 the noble pair gazed with delight at their people, who were 
 busily engaged in packing and lading the vessel. 
 
 Presently one of the band of workers said, in the midst 
 of a confused sound of voices, " But what appears to me 
 the most fearful and marvelous thing in these northern 
 lands is that stone fortress on the Moon-Rooks ; I have 
 
288 SINTBAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 not, indeed, been there, but if I chance on our huu 
 expeditions to see the battlements rising above the toj 
 the fir-trees, there comes at once a tightness across my br 
 as tliough something unearthly dwelt there. And a 
 weeks ago, when the snow was lying thickly over 
 valleys, I came unexpectedly quite close upon the stri 
 fortress. The young knight Sinti'am was walking a 
 upon the ramparts, in the growing twilight, looking 
 some departed spirit, and he drew from the lute he cai 
 such soft, soft plaintive tones, and sighed so heartily 
 sorrowfully " 
 
 The speaker's voice was drowned by the noise of 
 crowd, and, moreover, he was approaching the vessel 
 his well-strapped bales, so that Folko and Gabrielle c 
 not hear the conclusion of his speech. 
 
 But the fair lady looked at her knight with tearful « 
 and sighed, "Is it not behind those mountain peaks 
 the solitary Moon-Rocks lie? That poor Sintram m 
 my heart ache ! " 
 
 "I understand thee, my pure and blessed wife, and 
 pious sympathy that stirs thy tender breast," replied F( 
 and, immediately ordering his fleetest steed to be brou 
 he committed his noble lady to the care of one of 
 retainers, and, vaulting into his saddle, galloped a 
 through the valley toward the stone fortress, followec 
 the grateful smiles of Gabrielle. 
 
 Sintram was sitting on a resting-place, in front of 
 drawbridge, touching the strings of his lute, letting 
 and then a tear fall upon the golden instrument, jus 
 Montfaucon's squire had described him. Something li 
 cloudy shadow passed over him, and he looked up thin 
 it was a flight of cranes through the air. But the he; 
 was spotless and blue, and while the young knio-ht was 
 considering what it might be, a long and beautiful s 
 fell from the battlements and lay at his feet. 
 
SINTBAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 289 
 
 rum 
 
 "TaliB it up, and use it well ! Thy foe is near ! The 
 _in of tliy dearest happiness is rear ! " whispered a voice 
 audibly ill ills ear ; and it seemed to him as if lie saw the 
 shadow of the little master gliding close beside him into a 
 cleft in the rocky moat. 
 
 But at tlie same moment also, a tall, gigantic, haggard 
 figure passed through the valley, resembling in some 
 measure the deceased pilgrim, only far, far taller, and rais- 
 ing his long withered arm with a threatening air, he dis- 
 appeared in an ancient tomb. 
 
 At the same instant. Knight Folko of Montfaucon came 
 galloping up toward the Moon-Rocks, with the swiftness of 
 the wind ; and he must also indeed have seen something of 
 the strange apparitions, for, as he halted close behind Sin- 
 tram, he looked pale, and asked in a low and earnest tone : 
 " "Who were those two, with whom you have just now 
 been holding converse ? " 
 
 "The good God knows," replied Sintram. "I know 
 them not." 
 
 "If the good God does but know," exclaimed Mont- 
 faucon. " But I fear He knows very little more of you and 
 your deeds." 
 
 " You speak terribly severe words," said Sintram. " Yet 
 since that unhappy evening — alas ! and how long before 
 it ! — I must endure all that comes from you. Dear sir, you 
 may believe me, I know not those fearful companions ; I 
 summon them not, and I know not what terrible curse 
 binds them to my footsteps. The good God meanwhile, I 
 trust, is mindful of me, just as a faithful shepherd forgets 
 not the worst and wildest of his lambs, who has strayed 
 from him, and now calls to him anxiously in the gloomy 
 wilderness." 
 
 The anger of the noble baron now wholly gave way. 
 Bright tears stood in his eye as he said : "No, surely, God 
 has not forgotten thee, only do not thou forget the good 
 
290 SINTHAM AND SIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 God. I came not, moreover, to rebuke tbee. I came 
 bless tbee, in Gabrielle's name and in my own. May tl 
 Lord protect thee, may tlie Lord restrain tbee, may tl 
 Lord lift tbee up. And, Sintram, I sball bear tbee in mil 
 on the distant sbores of Normandy, and sball learn bo 
 tbou wrestlest witb tbe curse tbat burdens tby unbapj 
 life, and wben tbou sbalt bave some day sbaken it off, ai 
 sbalt stand as a noble conqueror over sin and death, tbt 
 thou shalt receive from me a token of love and rewar 
 more glorious than either thou or I can know at th 
 moment." 
 
 Tbe words flowed from tbe lips of tbe baron witb pr 
 pbetic force ; be himself was only half conscious of wb 
 be was saying ; then witb a kindly greeting be turned 1 
 noble steed and galloped again down tbe valley toward t. 
 shore. 
 
 " Fool, fool, tbrice a fool ! " whispered tbe angry voi 
 of tbe little master in Sintram's ear, but tbe old Rolf w 
 singing bis morning hymn clearly and distinctly within t 
 castle, and the last verse was this : 
 
 That man is blest, 
 
 Who's held in jest 
 
 By scofflers of Heaven's love ; 
 
 God prints his sign, 
 
 Oq page divine, 
 
 And enrolls his name above. 
 
 A holy joy penetrated into Sintram's heart, and 
 looked around him still more gladly than in tbe hour wb 
 Gabrielle bad given him sword and scarf and Folko h 
 dubbed him knight. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 With a favorable spring breeze the baron and bis f 
 wife set sail across the broad sea, and tbe coasts of N 
 
8INTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 291 
 
 mandy were already rising on the watery horizon, while 
 Biorn of the Fiery Eyes still sat gloomy and silent within 
 his castle. He had not bid them farewell. Tlie feeling of 
 liis soul toward Montfaucon was rather angry fear than 
 loving reverence, especially since the affair with the boar's 
 image, and the thought preyed bitterly on his proud heart, 
 that the great baron, the flower and glory of the whole 
 race, had come in joy to visit him, and was now departing 
 ■with dissatisfaction and stern reproachful displeasure. 
 Constantly present to him, filling his breast with pangs, 
 was the idea of how all had come to pass, and how all 
 might have been otherwise ; and he was always fancying 
 he could hear the songs in which future generations would 
 sing of this voyage of the great Folko, and of the worth- 
 lessness of the savage Biorn. 
 
 At length, full of fierce anger, he broke asunder the 
 bonds of his troubled spii-it, burst forth from the castle 
 with all his retainers, and began one of the most fearful and 
 unrighteous feuds' he had ever before fought. Sintram 
 heard the sound of his father's war-horn, and committing 
 the stone fortress to the care of the old Rolf, he sprang 
 forth fully armed for the combat. 
 
 But the flames of the cottages and fai-ms in the moun- 
 tains rose up before him, and with fearful characters of fire 
 clearly portrayed to him the kind of war which his father 
 was waging. Still he proceeded onward toward the armed 
 hosts, but only for the sake of offering his mediation, as- 
 serting that he would not lay hand on his noble sword iu 
 such a horrible strife, even tliougli the fury of the enemy 
 might lay low the stone fortress and his father's castle be- 
 sides. Biorn hurled the spear, which he held in his hand, 
 in mad fury against his son. The murderous weapon 
 whizzed past him, while Sintram remained with his visor 
 raised, not moving a limb in his defense, and said: " Father, 
 do what you will. But I will not join in your godless war," 
 
293 SINTBAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 Biorn of the Fiery Eyes smiled scornfully. " It seems I 
 am always to have a spy over me here ; my son succeeds 
 the daintjr French kniglit!" Nevertheless he repented, 
 accepted Sintram's mediation, made amends for the injuries 
 done, and withdrew gloomily back to his ancestral castle, 
 while Sintram returned to the Moon-Rocks. 
 
 Similar occurrences were from that time not iinfrequent. 
 It went so far that Sintram was regarded as the protector of 
 all those who were the victims of his father's bursts of fury ; 
 but nevertheless the young knight was sometimes carried 
 away by his own wildness to join his fierce fatljer in his 
 fui-ious deeds. Then Biorn would laugh with horrible de- 
 light, and would say, "See there, my son, how our torches 
 blaze up from the fai'ms and how the blood gushes forth 
 from the wounds our swords have made ! I plainly see, 
 however much thou mayest assume the contrary, that thou 
 art and ever wilt be, my true and beloved heir ! " 
 
 After such wild errors, Sintram could find no other con- 
 solation than that of hastening to the chaplain at Dront- 
 heim, and confessing to him his misery and his sin. The 
 chaplain then after due penance and contrition would ab- 
 solve him from his sin, and would raise up tlje broken- 
 hearted youth ; still he would often say : 
 
 " Oh, how near, how very near wert thou to have over- 
 come the last ti'ial, and to have looked victoriouslj'^ on 
 Verena's countenance, having atoned for all ! Now thou 
 hast again thrown thyself back for years. Consider, my 
 son, human life is fleeting, and if thou art ever falling back 
 anew, how wilt thou gain the summit on this side of the 
 grave ? " 
 
 Years came and went and Biorn's haii- grew snowy white, 
 and the youthful Sintram was becoming a middle-aged 
 man ; the aged Rolf could now scarcely leave the stone 
 fortress, and sometimes he would say, "That I still live is 
 almost a burden to me, but yet to a certain extent there is 
 
8INTRAM AND SIS COMPANIONS. 293 
 
 comfort in it, when I think that the good God has in stove 
 for me here below a great, great happiness. And that mnst 
 cencern you, dear Sir Kniglit Sintram, for what else in the 
 world could rejoice me ? " 
 
 But everything remained as it was, and Sintram's fearful 
 dreams, toward Christmas, were every year rather more 
 terrible than the reverse. 
 
 The holy season was now again drawing nigh, and the 
 mind of the afflicted knight was still more troubled than 
 ever. At times, wlien he had been reckoning the nights 
 that intervened, a cold perspiration would stand on his 
 brow, and he would say, " Take heed, my dear old foster- 
 fatlier, this time something fearfully decisive lies before 
 me." 
 
 One evening he felt an overwhelming anxiety about his 
 father. It seemed to him as if the Evil One were on his 
 way to his father's castle, and it was in vain that Rolf re- 
 minded him that the snow lay many feet deep in the val- 
 leys ; it was in vain that he suggested even that the knight 
 might be overtaken by his fearful dreams in the mountains 
 during the solitary niglit. " It could not be worse to me 
 tlian remaining here,'' replied Sintram ; and lie ordered his 
 horse from the stable, and galloped forth in the increasing 
 darkness. 
 
 The noble steed slipped and stumbled and fell in the 
 trackless p^^s, but the knight always pulled him up again, 
 and urged Tiim only more hastily and eagerly toward the 
 longed for yet dreaded end. Nevertheless, he would 
 scarcely have reached it had not the faithful hound Skov- 
 maerk kept with him. The animal found out the snow- 
 covered track for his beloved masti;r, alluring him toward 
 it by joyous barkings, and warning him by howls against 
 the precipices and the treacherous ice under the snow. 
 Thus at length toward midnight they reached the old castle. 
 The windows of the hall shone brightly toward them, as 
 
294 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 though a great feast were being kept there : and a sound of 
 singing met their ears. Sintram hastily gave his steed to 
 some retainers in the court-yard, and ran up the steps, leav- 
 ing Skovmaerk behind with the well-known horse. Within 
 the castle, the knight was met by a faithful squire, who 
 said, "Thank God, my dear master, that you are come. 
 Surelj'^, once more, nothing good is going on above. But 
 take heed to yourself, and do not suffer yourself to be de- 
 luded. Your father has a guest with him, and it seems to 
 me a liateful one." 
 
 Sintram shuddered as he threw open the doors. 
 
 With his back toward him, there sat a little man in a 
 miner's dress. The suits of armor had again for some time 
 been ranged round the stone table, so that only two places 
 were left empty ; the seat opj)osite the door was occupied 
 by Biorn of the Fiery Eyes, and the glaring light of the 
 torches fell upon his face with such a crimson glow that he 
 looked perfectly in harmony with that fearful surname. 
 
 " Father, whom have you with you ? " exclaimed Sintram, 
 and his suspicions rose to certainty as the miner turned 
 round and the little master's hideous visage grinned from 
 under the dark hood. 
 
 "Yes, just see, ray son !" said the wild Biorn ; "thou 
 hast not been with me for a long time, and this evening 
 this jolly comrade has paid me a visit, and thy place has 
 been taken. But put aside one of these suits ■^rmor, and 
 draw a seat for thyself in its place, and drink with us, and 
 be merry with us." 
 
 " Yes, do so. Sir Knight Sintram ! " said the little master, 
 with a laugh. " What can come of it further than that the 
 subverted ari?jgr will rattle a little, or at the most that the 
 wandering spirit to whom the suit belonged may look over 
 thy shoulder. But he won't drink up our wine ; spirits 
 leave that alone. So now fall to ! " 
 
 Biorn joined in the horrible laugh of the stranger with 
 
SINTBAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 295 
 
 vehemence, and while Sintram was mustering up all his 
 strength that he might not lose his senses by these wild 
 words, and was fixing his gaze calmly and steadily on the 
 little master's face, the old man exclaimed : " Why dost 
 thou look at him so? Does it seem to thee perhaps as 
 though thou wert looking at thyself in a mirror ? Now 
 that you are together, I do not see it so much, but before it 
 seemed to me as though you were so like as to be mistaken 
 for each other ! " 
 
 " God forbid ! " said Sintram, stepping nearer to the fear- 
 ful apparition, and exclaiming, "I command thee, hateful 
 stranger, to depart from this castle, in right of my power as 
 a consecrated knight and as a spirit." 
 
 Biorn seemed as if he were on the point of opposing this 
 with all his fury. The little master murmured to himself, 
 "Thou art by no means master in this house, good knight ; 
 thou hast never kindled a fire on this hearth." Then Sin- 
 tram drew the sword which Gabrielle had given him, and 
 holding the hilt before the eyes of the evil guest, he said 
 calmly, but in a powerful voice, " Die or fly ! " 
 
 And the horrible stranger fled with such lightning speed 
 that no one knew whether he sprang through the window 
 or the door. But as he passed he threw down some of the 
 armor, the tapers went out, and in the blue-yellow light 
 which marvelously illuminated the hall it seemed as though 
 the former words of the little master were fulfilled, and that 
 the spirits of those to whom the steel suits of armor had 
 once belonged were leaning filled with awe over the 
 table. 
 
 Both father and son felt a sense of terror, but each 
 adopted a different way of safety. The one heard the 
 hideous guest returning, and felt within himself that his 
 will was so firm that the little master's step already sounded 
 on the stone staircase, and his swarthy hand shook the 
 fastenings of the door. 
 
296 StNTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 Sintram, on the other hand, kept saying to himself : " We 
 are lost if lie returns ! We are lost to all eternity if he re- 
 turns." And falling on his knees he j^rayed from the deptlis 
 of his troubled heart to Fathei', Son, and Holy Ghost. 
 
 Then the Evil One again left the door ; and again Biorn 
 called him back ; and again Sintram's prayers drove him 
 away ; and thus the fearful strife of will went on through 
 the long night, and howling whirlwinds raged around the 
 castle till all the household thought the end of the world 
 had come. 
 
 The dawn of day at length gleamed through the windows 
 of the hall, the fury of the storm was hushed, Biorn sank 
 back on his seat in powerless slumber, j>eace and hope came 
 to the inmates of the castle, and Sintrara, pale and exhausted, 
 went out before the castle gate to breathe the dewy air of 
 the mild winter's morning. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 The faithful Skovmaerk had caressingly followed his 
 master, and now while Sintram sat half asleep on a stone 
 seat in the wall, lay watchful and attentive at his feet. 
 Suddenly he pricked up his ears, his bright eyes looked 
 round with delight, and he bounded joyfullj"^ down the 
 mountain. Immediately afterward the chaplain of Dront- 
 heim appeared among the rocks, the good animal clung to 
 him, as if to greet him, and then again ran back to his 
 master, as though to announce the wished-for visitor. 
 
 Sintram opened his eyes, like a child by whose bedside 
 Christmas gifts had been placed. For the chaplain smiled 
 upon him as he had never smiled before. In that smile 
 there was a token of victory and blessing, or at least of the 
 joyful approach of both. 
 
 " Thou hast done much yesterdaj', very much ! " said the 
 
8INTRA2t AND HIS COMPAmONS. SS"? 
 
 holy father, and his hands were folded and his eyes were 
 full of tears. "I praise God for thee, my noble knight. 
 Verena knows everything, and sl^e too praises God for thee. 
 Yes, I venture to hope that the time is now not far distant 
 when you can appear beforeher ; but Sintram, Knight Sin- 
 tram, there is need of haste. For the old man above needs 
 speedy help, and a heavy trial — I hope the last — but a very 
 heavy trial thou hast yet to endure on his account. Arm 
 thyself, my knight ; arm thyself also with bodily weapons. 
 It is true, this time only spiritual armor is needed, but it 
 becomes the knight as well as the monk, ever in decisive 
 moments, to wear the solemn garb of his station. If it 
 please thee, we will set out at once together for Drontheim. 
 Thou must return thence this very night. This belongs 
 also to the hidden decree which is dimly revealed to Verena. 
 Here, moreover, there is so much that is wild and distract- 
 ing, and calm preparation is to-day very necessary for 
 thee." 
 
 With joyful humility Sintram bowed his assent, and 
 called for his horse, and for a suit of armoi-. " O11I3'," he 
 added, "let none of the armor be brought which was last 
 night overthrown in the hall ? " His orders were imme- 
 diately obeyed. 
 
 The arms which were fetched were adorned with fine 
 engraved work ; the helmet alone was simple, being foi'med 
 almost more like that of a squire than of a knight, and the 
 lance belonging to the suit was of a gigantic size. The 
 chaplain gazed at them all with deep thought and melan- 
 choly emotion. At length, when Sintram with the help of 
 his squires was almost ready, the holy father spoke : 
 
 " Wonderful providence of God ! See, dear sir, this 
 armor and this spear formerly belonged to Sir Weigand the 
 Slender, and many a mighly deed he accomplished with 
 them. Whenlie was tended by your mother in the castle, 
 and when your father also was still kindly toward him, he 
 
298 SlNTltAlI AND MIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 begged as a favor that his armor and his lance might be 
 allowed to hang in Biorn's armory — he himself, as you well 
 know, intended to build a cloister, to retire there as a 
 monk — and he put his former squire's helmet with the armor 
 instead of another, because that was the one he was wearing 
 when for the first time he had looked upon the angelic face 
 of the fair Verena. How strangely has it now come to pass 
 that just these arms, so long unused, should have been 
 brought to you for the decisive hour ! To me, so far as my 
 short-sighted human eye can re.ioh, it seems a truly solemn 
 token, but one full of high and glorious promise." 
 
 Sintram meanwliile stood fully armed, looking solemn 
 and stately, and from his stature and agility he might have 
 been still almost taken for a youth, but for the careworn 
 countenance beneath his helmet. 
 
 " Who lias placed boughs on the head of my charger ? " 
 inquired Sintram, in an angry tone. " I am no conqueror 
 and no wedding-guest ; and moreover, what boughs are 
 there but these red and yellow crackling oak leaves, sad and 
 dead as the season itself ! " 
 
 " Sir, I know not myself," replied an esquire, "but it 
 seemed to me as if it must be so." 
 
 " Let it be," said the chaplain. " I feel as if this sig- 
 nificant token also came from the right source." 
 
 The knight then vaulted into his saddle, the holy father 
 walked by his side, and both proceeded slowly and silently 
 to Drontheim. The faithful hound followed his master. 
 
 When the lofty castly of Drontheim came in view, a soft 
 smile spread itself over Sintram's countenance like sunshine 
 over a wintry valley. " God is doing great things in me," 
 said he ; " I once fled from here a fearfully wild boy; I now 
 return as a repentant man. I trust it may yet be well with 
 my poor troubled life." 
 
 The chaplain bowed his head in kindly assent, and soon 
 afterward the travelers passed through the echoing vaulte(3 
 
8INTRA3I AND HIS COilPAmONS. 299 
 
 gateway into the castle yard. At a sign from tlie lioly 
 father, some squires hastened respectfully to them and took 
 the horse under their charge ; then the chaplain and Sin- 
 train went through many winding stairs and passages to 
 the remote little chamber which the priest had chosen for 
 himself ; far from the tumult of men and near to the clouds 
 and stars. There they both passed a quiet day in fervent 
 prayer, and in earnest reading in the holy scriptures. 
 
 When evening began to draw in, tlie chaplain rose and 
 said : " Courage, my knight ; now saddle thy horse, and 
 mount and ride back to thy father's castle. Thou hast a 
 laborious patli before thee, and I may not accompany thee. 
 But I can and I will call on the Lord for thee, throughout 
 this long and fearful night. Oh ! thou most precious 
 instrument of the most High, be not lost after all ! " 
 
 Shuddering with fearful forebodings, but nevertheless 
 with a sense of strength and gladness, Sintram obeyed the 
 holy man. The sun had just set as the knight approached 
 a long valley strangely shut in by rocks, through which the 
 way led to his father's castle. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 At the entrance to the rocky defile the knight looked 
 round once more, thankfully and prayerfully, to the castle 
 of Drontheim. It stood there so vast and calm and peace- 
 ful, the windows of the chaplain's upper chamber were still 
 lighted up with the last gleams of the sun, which had al- 
 ready set ; before Sintram there lay the gloomy valley, 
 gloomy as the grave. 
 
 Presently some one approached him, riding on a small 
 horse, and Skovraaevk, who had bounded instinctively to- 
 ward the stranger, ran back howling and whining, with his 
 tail between his legs and his ears thrown back, and nestled 
 fearfully under his master's steed. 
 
300 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 But even this noble animal seemed to forget liis wonted 
 courage. He started back, and wlien the knight tried to 
 urge him toward the stranger, he reared and plunged and 
 began to back. It was only with difficulty that Sintram's 
 power and horsemanship at length gained the m.astery ; but 
 his steed was white with foam when he approached the un- 
 known traveler. 
 
 " You have a shy beast with you," said the latter, in a low, 
 smothered voice. 
 
 Sintram could not rightly distinguish in the ever-increas- 
 ing darkness what sort of a being he really had before him ; 
 he could only see a very pale face — he thought at first it 
 was covered with freshly fallen snow — gazing at him from 
 amid his long, shrouding garments. It seemed as if the 
 stranger were carrying a small box wrapped up ; his little 
 horse, as if utterly weary, hung its head down, causing a bell 
 suspended from his neck to give forth a strange sound. 
 
 After some minutes' silence Sintram replied, " Noble 
 steeds indeed avoid those of less noble race, because they are 
 ashamed of them, and the bravest dogs feel a secret horror 
 at unwonted apparitions. I have no shy beasts with me." 
 
 "Good, sir knight, then ride with me into the valley." 
 
 " I am going into the valley, but I need no companion." 
 
 " Then perhaps I need one. Do you not see that I am un- 
 armed ? And at this season, at this hour, there are horribly 
 unearthly creatures here." 
 
 Just then, as though to confirm the awful words of the 
 stranger, a thing swung itself down from the nearest tree 
 covered with hoar frost ; it was impossible to distinguish 
 whether it was a snake or a salamander ; it curled and 
 twisted itself, and seemed about to slide down upon the 
 knight or his companion. Sintram thrust at it with his 
 spear and pierced it. But with the most frightful contor- 
 tions it remained fixed on the spear-head, and in vain the 
 knight endeavored to rub it off against the rocks or 
 
SIN TEAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 301 
 
 branches. Then he rested his spear upon his right shoul- 
 der with the point beliind, so that he might no longer have 
 the ugly creature full in view, and turning with good cour- 
 age to the stranger, he said : 
 
 " It seems indeed as if I could help you, and I am not ex- 
 actly forbidden the company of an unknown stranger ; so 
 let us proceed forward into the valley." 
 
 " Help ! " was the sad answer returned. " Not help ; I 
 can perhaps help thee. But God have mercy on thee if the 
 time should come that I could no longer help thee. Then 
 thou wouldst be lost, and I should be very terrible to thee. 
 Let us go into the valley, and I have thy knightly word for 
 it. Come ! " 
 
 They rode forward. Sintram's horse still shy, the faith- 
 ful hound still whining, but both obeying their master's 
 will ; the kniglit calm and steadfast. 
 
 The snow had fallen from the smooth rocks, and in the 
 light of the rising moon many distorted shapes were to be 
 seen on the stony walls — some looking like snakes, some 
 like human faces ; but they were only caused by strange 
 veins in the rocks and by the half-bare roots of the trees 
 which had planted themselves with capricious firmness. 
 Once more, as if in farewell, the castle of Drontheim ap- 
 peared high above through a cleft in the rocks. 
 
 The knight surveyed his companion, and it almost 
 seemed to him as if Weigand the Slender were riding 
 beside him. "For heaven's sake," cried he, "art thou not 
 the shade of that departed knight who suffered and died 
 for Verena ? " 
 
 " I have not suffered, I have not died ; it is you poor 
 mortals who suffer and die ! " murmured the stranger. "I 
 am not Weigand — I am that other who looked so like him. 
 and whom thou hast also met before now in the wood." 
 
 Sintram strove to free himself from the horror which 
 came over him at these words. He looked at his horse ; it 
 
302 SINTBAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 appeared to liim utterly altered. Tlie dry many-colored 
 oak leaves on its head rose like the flames around a sacri- 
 fice in the fleeting moonlight. He looked down at his 
 faithful Skovmaerk ; fear had also strangely transformed 
 him. Dead men's bones were lying on the ground in the 
 middle of the road, and hideous lizards were gliding about, 
 and in spite of the wintry season poisonous fungi were 
 growing all around. 
 
 "Is this really my own horse on which I am riding?" 
 said the knight softly to himself. " And is that trembling 
 beast running by my side really my own dog? " 
 
 Just then some one called behind him in a yelling voice, 
 " Stop ! stop ! Take me too with you ! " On looking 
 round Sintram saw a horrible little figure with horns, and 
 a face partly like that of a boar and partly like a bear, 
 walking along on its horse-like hind legs, and a wonderful 
 hideous weapon in its hand, formed like a hook or a sickle. 
 It was the being who had been wont to terrify him in his 
 dreams, and alas ! it was also the fatal little master him- 
 self, who, with a wild laugh, stretched out a long claw to- 
 ward the knight. 
 
 Sintram, half -bewildered, murmured, "I must have 
 fallen asleep ! And now my dreams are coming over 
 me!" 
 
 " Thou art awake," replied the rider of the little horse ; 
 " thou knowest me also in thy dreams — for behold, I am 
 Death ! " 
 
 And his garments fell from him, and a moldering, flesh- 
 less skeleton appeared, the half-decayed head crowned 
 with a diadem of serpents ; that which he had kept hidden 
 under his mantle was an hour-glass almost run out. Death 
 held out this toward the knight in his bony hand. The 
 bell suspended to the horse's neck sounded solemnly. It 
 was a passing beU. 
 
 " Lord, into Thy hands I commend my spirit ! " prayed 
 
8INTRAM AlfB HIS COMPANIONS. 303 
 
 5iiitram ; and full of earnest devotion lie followed Death, 
 vho signed him to ride on. 
 
 "He has thee not yet. He has thee not yet ! " screamed 
 ihe horrible fiend behind them. " Give thyself rather up 
 10 me. In one moment — for my power is as swift as thy 
 ;houghts — in one moment thou shalt be in Kormandy. 
 Helen yet blooms as fairly as when she departed hence, 
 md she shall be thine this very night." 
 
 And again he began his wicked praises of Gabrielle's 
 aeauty, and Sintram's hearty beat with glowing ardor in 
 lis weak breast. 
 
 Death said nothing more, but he raised the hour-glass 
 higher and higher in his right hand ; and as the sand ran 
 Dut more quickly a soft light from the glass gleamed over 
 Sintram's countenance, and it seemed to him as though 
 3ternity in its calm glory were opening before him, and 
 that the bewildering world were dragging him backward 
 with its terrible power. 
 
 "I command thee, thou wild form that followest me," 
 cried he ; "I command thee in the. name of my Lord Jesus 
 Christ that thou ceasest from thy seducing words, and that 
 thou callest thyself by the name by which thou art desig- 
 nated in the Holy Scriptures ! " 
 
 A name more fearful than a thunder-clap burst despair- 
 ingly from the lips of the tempter, and he disappeared. 
 
 " He wUl never come again," said Death, in a kindly 
 tone. 
 
 "Am I then indeed become wholly thine, my stem 
 companion ?" 
 
 "Not yet, my Sintram. I shall not come to thee for 
 many, many years. But thou must not forget me the 
 while." 
 
 " I will keep thee steadily in mind, thou fearful yet 
 wholesome monitor, thou awful yet loving guide." 
 
 " Oh ! I can also appear very gentle." 
 
304 SINTBAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 And indeed he at once showed himself so. His form 
 became less gloomy in the increasing gleam of light that 
 shone from the hour-glass ; the features that had been so 
 stern and awful wore a gentle smile, the crown of serpents 
 became a bright palm wreath, his horse melted into a 
 white, misty cloud, and the bell gave forth sweet cradle 
 lullabies. Sintram thought he could hear these words in 
 the sound : 
 
 The world and Satan are defeated. 
 Before thee gleams eternal light. 
 Warrior, whom success has greeted. 
 Help the old man from his sorrow. 
 For, ere many a coming morrow, 
 I shall have quenched his fiery sight. 
 
 The knight knew well that his father was meant, and he 
 hastened on his noble steed. The horse now obeyed liini 
 readily and gladly, and the faithful hound ran again in 
 confidence by his side ; Death had disappeared, only in 
 front there floated something like a rosy morning cloud, 
 which remained visible even after the sun had risen and 
 was shining brightly and warmly in the clear winter sky. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 " He is dead ! he has died from the terror of that fearful 
 night ! " said some of Biorn's retainers about this time ; for 
 since the morning of the previous day the old man liad 
 never recovered his senses, and they had prepared for him 
 in the great hall a couch of wolf and bear-skins, in the 
 midst of the armor that had been partly thrown down. 
 One of the squires said with a low sigh, "Oh God I have 
 mercy on this poor wild soul ! " 
 
 Just then the watchman on the tower blew his horn, and 
 a trooper entered the chamber with an air of surprise. 
 
8INTBAM AND EI8 COMPANIONS. 305 
 
 " There is a knight approaching," said he, "a wonderful 
 knight. I could have taken him for my Lord Slntram, 
 but a bright, bright morning cloud is always floating close 
 before him, and so illuminates him with its gloiy that one 
 could imagine that red flowers were being showered down 
 upon him. His horse, too, has a wreath of crimson boughs 
 about his head, such as has never been the wont of our 
 dead master's son." 
 
 "Just such a one," replied another, " did I weave for him 
 yesterday. It did not please him at first, but afterward he 
 suffered it to remain." 
 
 "And why didst thou do it?" 
 
 " It seemed as if some one were forever singing in my 
 ear : 
 
 ' Victory ! Victory ! 
 The noblest victory ! 
 The knight rides forth to victory I ' 
 
 " And then I saw a branch of our oldest oak-tree 
 stretched out toward me, and in spite of the snow it had 
 retained all its gold and crimson leaves. So I did accord- 
 ing to that which I had heard sung, and I plucked some 
 of the leaves and wove a wreath of victory for the noble 
 war horse. At the same time, too, Skovmaerk — you know 
 the good beast had always a marvelous fear of the Knight 
 Biorn, and had for that reason gone to the stable with the 
 horse — Skovmaerk sprang upon me, caressingly and pleased, 
 as though he would thank me for my work, and such noble 
 animals well understand good prognostics." 
 
 Tlie sounds of Sintram's spurs were heard approaching 
 on the stone steps, followed by the joyous bark of 
 Skovmaerk. 
 
 At the same moment the supposed corpse of the old 
 Bioi-n sat up, and, looking round with rolling, staring eyes, 
 he asked his terrified retainers in a hollow voice : 
 
306 8INTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 "Who comes there, ye people? Who comes there? 
 I know it is my son. But who comes with him ? The 
 answer bears the sword of decision with it. For see, my 
 good people, Gotthard and Rudlieb have prayed fervently 
 for me ; but if the little master comes, I am lost in spite of 
 them ! " 
 
 " Thou art not lost, dear father ! " sounded Sintram's 
 kindly voice through the gently oijened door, and the 
 bright morning cloud floated in with him. 
 
 Biorn folded his hands, and, looking gratefully to heaven, 
 he said with a smile : " Yes, yes, thank God, it is the right 
 companion ! It is bright kindly Death ! " 
 
 Then he signed to his son to approach, saying : " Come 
 here, my deliverer ! Come, thou blessed of tlie Lord, that 
 I may tell thee all that has passed with me." 
 
 As Sintram now sat close by his father's couch, all who 
 were in the room perceived a remarkable and striking 
 change. The old Biorn, whose whole countenance as well 
 as his eyes, wont to be so fiery, was now quite pale, 
 almost like white marble ; while on the other hand the 
 formerly pale Sintram glowed with the rosy brightness of 
 youth. This was caused by the morning cloud which still 
 shone upon him, the presence of which in the room was 
 indeed ratlier felt than seen ; but still a gentle shudder 
 passed tlirough every heart. 
 
 " See, my son," began the old man in a soft and mild 
 tone. " I have lain for a long time in a death-like slumber, 
 and I have not been conscious of anything going on 
 around me ; but within, ah ! within, I have been conscious 
 of too much ! I thought ray soul would have perished 
 with eternal anguish, and yet again I felt with still greater 
 horror that my soul was as eternal as the anguish I en- 
 dured. Dear child, thy clieeks that glowed so brightly 
 are beginning to grow pale at my words. I must refrain. 
 But let me tell you something more beautiful. Far, far 
 
SINTBAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 307 
 
 away, I saw a briglit, lofty clmvch, and in it Gottliard and 
 Rudlieb Lenz were kneeling and praying for me. Gott- 
 hard had now grown very very old, and he almost looked 
 like our snow-clad mountains, but in those bright hours 
 when the eyening sun is shining on them. And Rudlieb 
 was also an elderly man, but still very vigorous and strong ; 
 and with all their vigor and strength they were both pray- 
 ing for me, and supplicated help from God for me their 
 enemy. Then I heard a voice, like that of an angel saying : 
 ' His son is doing his utmost for him. He must wrestle in 
 this night witli Death and with the Fallen One. His 
 victory will be victory, and his defeat will be defeat for 
 the old man and for himself ! ' Upon this I awoke, and I 
 knew now that all depended upon the one whom thou 
 shouldst bring with thee ! Thou hast conquered. Next 
 to God the praise be to thee ! " 
 
 " Gottliard and Rudlieb Lenz have also helped much," 
 replied Sintram ; " and, my dear father, the fervent prayers 
 also of the chaplain at Drontlieim. I felt when wrestling 
 with temptation and terror, how the heavenly breath of 
 holy men was floating round me and helping me." 
 
 " I readily believe thee, my noble son, and all that thou 
 sayest,'' replied the old man, and at the same moment the 
 chaplain entered ; and BiOrn, with a smile of peace and joy, 
 held out his hand toward him. 
 
 It was a beautiful circle of unity and blessedness. "See," 
 said the old Biorn, " how even the good Skovmaerk springs 
 kindly up to me now, and tries to caress me ! It is' not 
 long since he always howled with fear when he saw me." 
 
 "My dear lord," replied the chaplain, "there is a spirit 
 dwelling in good beasts, though indeed in a dreamy and 
 unconscious state." 
 
 By degrees it grew stiller and stiller in the hall. The 
 last hour of the old knight was approaching, but he con- 
 tinued calm and happy. The chaplain and Sintram prayed 
 
808 8IN1RAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 by tlie side of his eoucb. The retainers knelt devoutly 
 around. At length the dying man said, "Is that the 
 matin bell in Verena's cloister ? " Sintram nodded an as- 
 sent, but his hot tears fell on his fathei-'s pallid face. Then 
 a gleam lightened up the old man's eyes, the morning cloud 
 stood close over him, and the gleam and the morning cloud 
 and the life departed from the corpse. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 A FEW days afterward Sintram was standing in the 
 parlor of the convent, waiting with beating heart for his 
 mother to appear. The last time he had seen her, he had 
 been awakened — a slumbering child — to receive her warm 
 farewell kiss, and then had fallen asleep again, half con- 
 jecturing in his dreams what his mother had wanted with 
 him, and seeking her in vain the following morning in the 
 castle and garden. The chaplain was now at his side, full 
 of joy at the chastened rapture of the gentle knight, on 
 whose cheeks a faint reflection of that solemn morning 
 cloud yet lingered. 
 
 The inner doors opened. In her white veil, tall and 
 stately, the Lady Verena entered with a heavenly smile, 
 and signed to her son to approach the grating. There 
 could be no thought here of any passionate outburst of 
 grief or of delight. Tlie holy peace which dwelt in these 
 halls would have found its way to a heart even less tried 
 and purified than that which beat in Sintram's breast. 
 Silently weeping, the son knelt down before the mother, 
 kissed her flowing garments through the grating, and felt 
 as though he were in paradise, whei'e every desire and every 
 disturbing care is hushed. 
 
 "Dear mother," said he, "let me become a holy man, as 
 thou art a holy woman. Then I will go to the monastery 
 
SINTBAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 309 
 
 yonder, and perhaps I may one day be deemed worthy of 
 being thy confessor, if illness or the weakness of age should 
 confine the good chaplain to the castle of Drontheim." 
 
 " That would be a sweet and quietly happy existence, my 
 good child," replied the Lady Verena. " But that is not 
 thy vocation. A brave mighty knight thou must remain, 
 and the long life — for the most part always granted to us, 
 the children of the North — thou must spend in succoring 
 the weak, in restraining the lawless, and in yet another 
 bright and honorable employment, which I, up to this time, 
 rather honor than know." 
 
 " God's will be done I " said the knight, rising full of de- 
 votion and firmness. 
 
 " That is my good son," replied the Lady Verena. "Ah, 
 how many fair, calm joys sprang up for us ! See our long 
 yearnings for reunion have been satisfied, and thou shalt 
 never more be so wholly sundered from me ! Every week 
 on this day thou must return to me, and tell me what 
 glorious deeds thou hast achieved, and take back witli thee 
 my counsel and my blessing." 
 
 "Then I shall once more be like a good, happy child !" 
 exclaimed Sintram joyfully ; " only that the good God has 
 endowed me besides with manly power in mind and body. 
 Oh, what a blessed thing is a son to whom it is granted to 
 gladden his beloved mother with the fruits and spoils of 
 his life ! " 
 
 Thus he quitted the cloister's quiet shade, glad and rich 
 in blessing, and entered upon his noble course. Not satis- 
 fied with going about wherever there was right to uphold 
 and wrong to avert, his now hospitable castle stood open 
 as a place of protection and refreshment to every stranger; 
 and the old Rolf, nosv almost grown young again at the 
 sights of ills knight's excellence, was installed as seneschal. 
 The bright and beneficent winter of Sintram's life passed 
 on, and only at times would he sigh in secret within him- 
 
310 8INTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 self and say, " AIj, Montfaucon ! ah, Gabrielle ! if only I 
 could hope that you have indeed wholly forgiven me ! " 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 The spring had already come in its brightness to the 
 northern lands, when one morning — after a successful and 
 well-contested battle with tlie most formidable disturber of 
 the peace of tlie district — Sintram was riding back to his 
 ancestral castle. His troopers rode after him, singing as 
 they went. As they approached nearer, the glad notes of 
 a horn sounded from the castle. " Some welcome visitor 
 must have arrived," said the knight, and he spurred his 
 horse to a quicker pace over the dewy meadow. 
 
 While they were still far off they saw the old Rolf busy 
 in preparing a table for the morning meal under the trees 
 in front of the gateway. From all the towers and battle- 
 ments banners and flags were floating gladly in the fresh 
 morning breeze, and the squires were running to and fro 
 in festive attire. As soon as the good Rolf perceived his 
 master, he clapped his hands joyously over his gray head, 
 and hastened into the castle. The wide gates were soon 
 thrown open, and Sintram as he entered was met by Rolf 
 with tears of joy in his eyes, as he pointed to three noble 
 forms that were following him. 
 
 Two men of lofty stature — the one very aged, the other 
 already gray-headed, and both unusually alike — were lead- 
 ing between them a beautiful youth dressed in a page's 
 attire of azure velvet richly embroidered with gold. The 
 two old men wore the black velvet dress of German burgh- 
 ers,' with massive gold chains and large shining medals 
 round their neck and breast. 
 
 Sintram had never before seen his noble guests, and yet 
 they seemed to him like long and intimate acquaintances. 
 
St NTH AM AND HI3 COMPANIONS. 311 
 
 The olJ man tlien reminded bim of Lis dying fatliev's 
 words about the snowy mountains illuminated with the 
 evening sun, and then he remembered — he himself knew 
 not how — that he had once heard Folko say that in the 
 southern lands one of the highest peaks of that sort was 
 called the mountain of St. Gotthard. And at the same 
 time he knew also that the strong vigorous man on the 
 other side of Gotthard must be Rudlieb. But tlie youth 
 between the knights — ah ! Sintram in his humility scarcely 
 ventured to hope who he might be, however much his 
 proud though delicate features recalled before his mind two 
 highly honored images ! 
 
 Then the aged Gotthard Lenz, the king of old men, ad- 
 vanced toward Sintram with a solemn air, and said : 
 
 " This is the noble boy, Engeltram of Montfaucon, the 
 only son of the great baron of Montfaucon ; and his father 
 and mother send him to thee. Sir Sintram, well knowing 
 thy glorious and pious knightly career, that thou mayest 
 bring him up in all the honor and power of this northern 
 land, and mayest make him a Christian knight like thy- 
 self." 
 
 Sintram sprang from his horse. Engeltram of Mont- 
 faucon held the stirrup gracefully for him, courteously 
 checking the retainers, wlio pressed forward, with these 
 words : " I am the noblest born squire of this noble knight, 
 and the service nearest his person belongs to me." 
 
 Sintram knelt down on the turf in silent prayer ; then 
 raising the youthful image of Folko and Gabrielle in his 
 arms toward the morning sun, he exclaimed, " With God's 
 help, my Engeltram, thou wilt be like that sun, and thy 
 course will be like his ! " 
 
 Then Rolf cried out, weeping with joy, "Lord, now 
 lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace ! " Gotthard and 
 Rudlieb Lenz were pressed to Sintram's heart ; and the 
 chaplain of Dronthoim, who arrived just then from Verena's 
 
812 SlJSfTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 cloister to bring a joyful morning greeting from her to her 
 brave son, spread his hands in benediction over them all. 
 
 It is possible that some day the -writer may be permitted 
 to recount the glorious deeds achieved by Engeltram of 
 Montfaucon under Sintram's guidance, and subsequently 
 alone — deeds both in the service of God and for the honor 
 of women. 
 
 POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 Oftentimes the question arises whether a poet has taken 
 the creations of his mind from previous works, or in what 
 way they have suggested themst'lves to him. Such a ques- 
 tion seems to me in no way devoid of interest ; and I think 
 when the authoi' is able himself to elucidate the matter, he 
 is induced — and to a certain extent pledged — to impart the 
 fact to the reader. Hence the following statement : 
 
 Some years ago there lay among my birthday presents a 
 beautiful engraving from a painting by Albreeht Diirer ; it 
 represented a knight in full armor, of elderly appearance, 
 riding on a noble steed, accompanied by his dog, -through a 
 fearful valley where the clefts in the rocks and the roots of 
 trees seemed distorted into the most horrible forms, and 
 poisonous fungi grew all around. 
 
 Noxions reptiles were crawling about among them. By 
 his side, on a lean .horse, rode Death, and behind, a demon 
 form stretched forth his clawed arm toward him ; horse 
 and dog looked strange, as though infected by the horrors 
 round them ; the kniglit, however, rode calmly on his way, 
 bearing on his lance's point an already impaled salamander. 
 Par in the distance might be seen the noble, friendly battle- 
 ments of a castle, causing the seclusion of the valley to be 
 more heavily oppressive. My friend, Edward Hitzig, the 
 donor of the engraving, had added a note requesting me 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 313 
 
 to interpret these enigmatical figures for Lim in a romance. 
 The task was not then allowed me, nor for long after ; but 
 I carried the picture constantly in my mind, through peace 
 and war, until it has now distinctly spun and fashioned 
 itself out before me ; but instead of a romance, it has be- 
 come a little tale, if the kind reader will accept it as such. 
 
 FouQuii. 
 3d December, 1814. 
 
 THE END.