— __-.-m.
"When they had reached the middle of the black water, the knight
suddenly arose."
[Frontispiece.]                                        Page 222.




ENCHANTING
AND
ENCHANTED
FROM THE GERMAN OF HACKLANDER.
BY
MRS. A. L. WISTER,
5JUSLATOR OF "THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET," "GOLD ELSIE," " ONL
A GIRL," ETC.
PHILADELPHIA:
J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY.




Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year i870, by
J. B. LIPPINCOTT  &  CO.,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.




CONTENTS.
THE ELFIN TREE....             5
THE DWARFS' NEST......                  54
THE PRINCESS MORGANA...,.  85
CASTLE SILENCE......                           145
THE FAIRY TANKARD....         18I
(iii)








FAIRY SPELLS.
THE ELFIN TREE.
WHEN, in winter, the boughs of the trees are bending under their weight of snow, and the rude north wind
whistles through the streets, when the days grow shorter,
and the evenings longer and longer, the children ask
each other, " How many Sundays will there be before
Christmas?"  And first, there are four, then three, then
two, and at last only one, and then another reckoning
begins, and the children count up how many times they
must go to bed and get up again before Christmas ever
comes. This is the way with all children, rich and
poor; for even if there is no Christmas-tree for the latter, and though they may receive no rich gifts, they
rejoice in the splendour of the brilliant lights which
shine through the windows everywhere, and delight in
the little gift, be it ever so small, which their poor
parents have provided for them. But this evening is a
sad one for the poor child who has neither parents nor
relatives, but, living upon the charity of strangers, must
see beautiful fir trees shining everywhere, and beautiful
gifts given, without having any share in either, or sometimes even being allowed to look at them.
I*             (5)




6             THE ELFIN TREE.
At the time when our wonderful story took place
there was just such a poor orphan child living in the
house of a rich tradesman, who had many children
under the care of a bad step-mother, whom he had married soon after the death of his first wife, and who bore
him a son, whom she petted and entirely spoiled. Although the father would not allow this bad step-mother
to indulge her own son more than his other children, and
saw to it strictly that they were all treated equally well,
he could not induce her to treat the poor orphan boy,
who was called Gustave, with love and gentleness.
When he sometimes remonstrated with her upon the
subject, she would say: "Well, the little good-fornothing ought to be content with enough to eat and
drink, and a place to sleep in. It is a new idea that
beggars' brats must be petted and indulged." Ah!
poor Gustave did not deserve that, and never complained when coarser food and clothes were provided
for him than for the other children, only it grieved
him sorely, and he could not understand why the other
children, who were no handsomer nor better than he,
should be treated so much more kindly. And particularly on Christmas morning, when the little ones were
all showing their beautiful toys and gifts, and when
the son of the bad step-mother would maliciously assure him that the Christ-child brought nothing for beggars' children, the poor orphan would be sad indeed,
and resolve that if ever the Christ-child came in his
way he would entreat him to tell him why he always
forgot him.
And now Christmas-eve had come round again, and
Gustave learned from the maids and men in the kitchen




THE ELFIN TREE.                  7
that at midnight a silver bell would ring, and the
Christ-child would come riding on a little ass to bring
the children all the beautiful toys which they would
find the next morning upon the tables and chairs.
"Then," he thought to himself, " to-night I will listen
for the bell, and run to meet the Christ-child and
ask him  humbly to remember me."  And Gustave
tossed upon his miserable bed in the attic, and could
not sleep for expectation, but heard every stroke of
the clock. At last just as it struck twelve, he seemed
to hear a gentle noise in the house, something like
the ringing of a little bell.  He got softly out of
bed, and excitement, as well as cold, made his teeth
chatter loudly. He slowly went down the stairs and
listened attentively, but everything in the house was
as quiet as a church; he could not hear the slightest
noise. At last he saw a ray of light through the chink
of a door which had not been quite closed, and, peeping in, found to his sorrow that he had come too late,
for the Christ-child had already ridden away, after
covering the table with the most beautiful toys.
At first the poor fellow was about to slip up to his
attic again; but he could not resist his curiosity, and
slowly opened the door that he might see the toys more
distinctly. Oh, dear, what beautiful things were there!
The child stood confused and amazed, and looked
about him for some time before he could quietly examine anything.  On a table in the middle of the
room stood a tall hemlock tree covered with wax-lights
and beautiful things. On the top of the tree there
were two golden flags, which waved in the draught
of air that came from the door when the boy opened




8              THE ELFIN TREE.
it. Upon the table under the tree there were heaps
of all kinds of toys. There stood a great dray loaded
with chests and bales, and the driver, standing by, was
swinging his whip above his head, all so naturally
made that one felt convinced that if the whip would
only crack the horses would gallop quickly away. And
there too stood a beautiful carriage, such as wealthy,
distinguished people drive,-it was painted blue and
had red wheels,-and sitting in it was a wondrously
beautiful little lady dressed in a white silk frock,
trimmed with lace, with a myrtle crown and a long
veil upon her head, and her little, round face looked
so kindly at poor Gustave that he could scarcely take
his eyes off her.  Beside the carriage was ranged a
regiment of wooden soldiers, with great bear-skin
caps upon their heads and muskets upon their shoulders, looking sternly and rigidly before them. The
drummers went first, holding their drum*icks, all
ready to beat bravely at the word of command. On
the other side of the table were pretty little houses;
yes, a whole town, with churches and bridges, and a
large garden besides, with beautiful trees and little
fountains, and in the garden finely-dressed people were
walking, and huntsmen, with their guns upon their
shoulders, were spying diligently around for the hares
and deer that were leaping about under the trees.
And now Gustave noticed, directly beneath the hemlock tree, a figure which at first shocked him not a
little. It was twice as big as the other figures which
stood upon the table around it, and had a misshapen,
large, almost square head. Its mouth was even too
large and misshapen fqr its ugly head, and was, be



THE ELFIN TREE.                  9
sides, wide open, showing a row of sharp, white teeth.
Its eyes were red, with a small black pupil in each,
which looked fiercely out upon the world. The fellow
was dressed in red breeches, little yellow boots, and
a hussar's jacket. At his side hung a large sabre, and
upon his boots were ugly spurs. But what surprised
Gustave most was the length of his queue behind, which
almost reached to his feet. This fierce-looking creature was no other than the celebrated Sir Nutcracker,
who lends children his sharp teeth, as long as he is in
the humour for it, to crack their nuts. The poor child
had never had occasion to request the services of this
grim gentleman, consequently was in great terror of so
fierce a fellow. Although, upon examining him more
closely, Gustave soon left him and went to the other
side of the table to the little lady in the white silk
dress, who smiled at him so kindly, he could not help
glancing across sometimes at Nutcracker, and it seemed
then as though the little man rolled his red eyes towards
him and chattered with his teeth. But the room was
so comfortable and warm, and the odour of the hemlock
tree was so sweet and strange, that the child's eyes
began to close. If he thought of going up to his attic
to bed, the little lady looked from her carriage so tenderly that he found it impossible to leave her; so Gustave, after some reflection, seated himself upon a low
bench at the table, and, though he resolved firmly not
to go to sleep, his head sunk on his breast and his eyes
closed involuntarily.
Then suddenly the golden flags waved more proudly
upon the hemlock tree, and the needles on the branches
rustled loudly; and it seemed to Gustave that the Nut



Io             THE ELFIN TREE.
cracker raised his head slowly and sharpened his teeth
upon the trunk of the tree. Even the rigid wooden
soldiers moved their feet restlessly, as though impatient to march; and the boy thought he could distinctly see the whip of the driver move as though about
to crack loudly. A moment afterwards all was quiet
again, and, half sleeping and half waking, the boy
turned to the beautiful lady in the carriage, and if his
lips spoke no word, the beating of his heart asked why
the Nutcracker looked so angrily from the root of the
hemlock tree, and why the soldiers and driver seemed
so anxious to come to life. The beautiful lady in the
white silk dress turned her head somewhat to one side
and whispered so softly that it almost sounded like the
rustling of the hemlock needles. "Ah, alas! in the
moss under the hemlock tree the evil sorcerer sits hidden, who keeps us all prisoners, so that we cannot
move and breathe; and if he were dead-yes, if he
were only dead-we could enjoy existence as you do,
and go out into the world to meet a better fate than
that of being broken and spoiled in the hands of
naughty children." At these last words the beautiful
little lady seemed to shed a couple of tears, and the
Nutcracker could be distinctly heard rattling his sabre
and his spurs angrily.
What he thus heard about the sorcerer sounded very
strangely to the boy, and he was quite frightened.
But suddenly he pictured to himself, as the evil sorcerer,
some one who abused and ill treated the little lady just
as he was abused by the bad step-mother, and his
heart beat so angrily that he woke up suddenly and
ran to the hemlock tree to look for the sorcerer, firmly




THE ELFIN TREE.                tl
resolving to twist his neck for him. Then a low cry of
joy seemed to break from the people upon the table,
and, as he felt through the moss at the foot of the tree
with his hands, he thought the little lady in the white
silk dress looked towards him and nodded her head
kindly. For some time he found nothing suspicious;
but at last he drew forth out of the moss a figure
scarce two inches high, which had no legs or arms,
but a fiery-red head, with small malicious eyes and
a mouth that stretched from  ear to ear. "Aha!"
thought Gustave, "this must be the evil sorcerer,"
and he took him with him back to his seat and placed
him upon the edge of the table; for he had too true a
feeling of justice to condemn the little fellow unheard,
even though he were the worst sorcerer in the world.
He placed him on the table before him with his head
upright, that he might ask him seriously why he persecuted with his evil spells the poor lady in the
carriage, the brave Sir Nutcracker, and all the company of lofty and lowly degree upon the table, and
why he would not set them free. But scarcely had he
taken his thumb and finger from the little thing's body
when the impudent fellow, as in sheer defiance, toppled
upside down and stood stiff upon his red head.
Gustave found such behaviour extremely unbecoming, and saw in it only the insolence of the little fellow, who wished to laugh at and ridicule his questions.
He sat him up in the correct position again; but no
sooner had he done so than he bobbed back again
more briskly than before, and it seemed to the boy as
though he waggled his little body to and fro maliciously
and spitefully. Gustave was extremely vexed at this




i 2           THE ELFIN TREE.
impudence, and, taking him for the third time, said
to him: "Listen to me, you evil sorcerer, I advise
you to cease your tumbling and grimaces, and tell
me freely and frankly, will you disenchant the poor
little people here or not?" But, for the third time, he
popped upon his head and seemed to jeer at the boy
by waggling his ugly, misshapen body in the air.
This was too much.  Gustave seized him by the
head, and was doubtful for a moment whether to twist
his neck, or hand him over to the honourable Sir Nutcracker. At last he decided in favour of the latter
course, for he was sorry to destroy anything, even
though it were only a sorcerer, who had laughed at
and ridiculed him. And Nutcracker seemed to stretch
open his mouth wider and his teeth to chatter with
desire to grind up the hated enemy; so the boy took
the little sorcerer in his hand and stuck him quickly
into Nutcracker's mouth.  A terrible and exciting
moment ensued, and the sight of the brave Nutcracker's energetic and fearful exertions to shut his
mouth, which he could not possibly do, almost drew
tears from Gustave. The worthy knight's eyes flashed
with rage, and his sabre and spurs rattled with unspeakable fury, but in vain; he could not shut his
mouth and grind up the sorcerer. Suddenly it occurred to the boy that his heavy pig-tail must hinder
greatly the movements of his jaws, and in order to help
him to chew up the magician he lifted his queue a little
into the air. Then the Nutcracker clapped his jaws together, so that they sounded loudly through the room,
and opened his mouth and shut it again, until the
sorcerer seemed to be quite dead; so he chewed him




THE ELFIN TREE.                13
up fine in his jaws with a noise like a coffee mill
grinding coffee.
The boy stood and looked on with amazement, for
anything like this he had never in his life seen before.
After the Nutcracker had killed the magician, he
shouted for joy, took his sabre under his arm, and
sprang up into the air. Then he hurried to the carriage in which the little lady sat, and, touching his
hat, said: "Fairest Princess, I await your commands."  Ah! a most curious and wonderful bustle
now began on the table. The driver cracked his whip,
and the horses, harnessed to the dray, started off, but
the driver called out, "Woa! woa!" to them, and they
stood stock-still, only shaking their harness with delight. The drummers before the soldiers beat a short
roll, and one of the lieutenants immediately gave the
word of command: " Ground arms! Stand at ease!"
and the rigid fellows began to move,-one examined
his gun, and another, taking off his bear-skin cap, put
some question to a third. In front of the regiment
the officers stood talking together, and one assured
another that,'pon his honour, the weather was incomparably fine; to which the other replied, wittily
and with enthusiasm, that it really was incomparably
fine weather.  And in the garden everything suddenly began to stir. The trees shook their branches
as though moved by the wind, the stags and hares
sprang away over the green grass, and the huntsmen
followed them with loud shouts and winding of horns,
and all the groups of people who had before been
standing stiffly about in the garden-path began to
move, placed one wooden foot before another, and
2




14             THE ELFIN  TREE.
walked about briskly under the trees. The boy did
not know what to make of all this, and stood there,
with clasped hands, staring at these extraordinary
things.  He was particularly interested in the little
lady in the white silk dress, who often looked round
at him and now and then nodded at him kindly; so
he stayed by that side of the table where the carriage
was.
After Sir Nutcracker had run all around the table
and carefully investigated everything, he came again
to the carriage-door, and, touching his hat, said:
" Most gracious Princess, the spell is broken, and the
people impatiently await your permission to go out
into the world. Every moment that we delay here is
fraught with fresh danger for us; therefore I entreat
you, 0 Princess! to give the order to march."  Then
she nodded carelessly to the Nutcracker and replied:
"Most worthy friend, before we leave this place it is
only reasonable that I should offer my thanks to this
mortal child, who prudently and wisely discovered the
sorcerer, pulled him from his hiding-place, and delivered him to you, 0 noble Nutcracker! for punishment."  At these last words the noble knight scraped
his foot, so that his spurs clashed, and he conveyed
the Princess's thanks to the boy in the choicest expressions, as well as the gratitude of the little people;
and the Princess drew from her finger a golden ring,
with a white stone that sparkled like a dew-drop, and
handed it to Gustave.
The child was shocked to find that the beautiful
little lady, as well as the soldiers and the Nutcracker,
was about to leave him, and was terribly afraid of the




THE ELFIN TREE.               15
beating that he would receive the next morning when
his cross mistress discovered that the things were
gone, for he thought every one who looked at him must
see that he had set them all at liberty,-so he made
one or two useless attempts to induce them to remain.
And when the little lady shook her head sadly, and
his Highness, Sir Nutcracker, declared upon his honour
that any further delay would be useless, and perhaps
dangerous, he at once resolved to accompany the little
people, with which determination the Princess seemed
much more pleased than Sir Nutcracker. The latter,
indeed, made several objections to the plan; but as the
little lady accorded her full and free consent to it, the
old fellow had to shut his great mouth and content
himself with casting a couple of unfriendly glances
at the boy.
And then Nutcracker announced to all the people
that the Princess had appointed him Regent of her
future realm, and that every one must take great
pains to obey his orders strictly. The command to
start was given, and the lieutenants, with their soldiers,
marched off the table to the tap of the drums as
though an even road had been made from the table to
the floor. And many other wonders occurred, for all
the covers sprang up from the boxes and caskets upon
the table, and the little figures inside of them all
walked bravely off. Here was a company of tradespeople with the implements of their trades, and here a
whole dramatic company with the director at their
head, and the principal perfonners walking arm in
arm, followed by the comic characters, and so on
down to the stage-manager and lamp-lighter. Then a




I6            TH~E ELFIN TREE.
regiment of cuirassiers, as well as another regiment of
dragoons, arose and followed the train. The driver
cracked his whip, and the horses started off,-while
behind the heavily-packed dray came the promenaders
from  the garden, followed by the huntsmen and
dogs, accompanied by the merrily-bounding deer and
roes. Nutcracker, who did not think it becoming for
the regent of the kingdom to travel on foot, called up
a little wooden camel and got upon his back, and the
poor beast, with his heavy burden, walked patiently
by the side of the carriage in which the little lady sat.
Gustave walked on the other side, and, in spite of all
the wonders he had seen this night, he was surprised
anew when he saw how correctly and quietly the whole
train marched down the steps of the house, and how
the front door, which had opened of itself, closed
again in the same manner as soon as the whole company were in the street. In the room above, the nightlamp burnt dimly and gloomily, there was a mournful
rustling in the boughs of the hemlock, and the gilded
nuts and sugar-plums twisted and sighed. And out of
the moss at the foot of the tree there suddenly arose
a second sorcerer, who stood straight upon his head
with rage and fury, and, gnashing his teeth, cried out
to the departing crowd  "Only wait until to-morrow,
you pack of vagabonds, just wait until to-morrow!"
In the street without, the most beautiful, clear night
was reigning, and, although the moon set at midnight,
the stars sparkled so brightly that every path and road
were seen distinctly by their light. The house where
Gustave had lived until now was near the end of the
town, so that the little people soon reached the count




THE ELFIN TREE.                  7
try, where were large forests and spacious commons.
The military marched in close squadrons, and were
on their guard against any night-surprise. And they
were right, for here and there were seen huge monstersrats, cats, and dogs-who sprang among the little people, gnashing their teeth. Ah, one brave little lieutenant lost his life on this night in an attempt to distinguish himself,-he drew his sabre and rushed upon
a young cat who was glaring at him with its red, fiery
eyes. Vain was his heroic courage and the strength
of his youthful arm! The monster laid him low with
one blow of its huge paw, and the dying lieutenant
cried with his latest breath, "Long live the Princess
and Regent Nutcracker!"
After this sad but not irreparable loss,-for it was
only a breveted lieutenant,-the little people marched
quietly on, and soon reached a heath, where Regent
Nutcracker held a consultation with the grandees of
the realm as to what was to be done for the night, and
as to a place of refuge where wicked men should not
find them at daybreak and take them captive again.
Although it was mid-winter, Gustave, who was walking
quickly along by the side of the carriage, did not
feel at all cold, but was as warm and comfortable as
on a clear May-day, especially when he looked into
the black eyes of the friendly little lady. He took
the liveliest interest in the council now holding, for he
was greatly troubled by the thought that he might be
followed and  carried back on the morrow.  After
much discussion, the huntsmen maintained that in just
such places as this in which they found themselves,
huge beasts, called foxes, lived, who built under ground
B                2*




18             THE ELFIN TREE.
the most convenient and beautiful dwellings ever seen.
"Yes," said they, " deep in the earth are the caves of
these beasts, built with large antechambers, and all
around them are wide passages which lead in different
directions up to the surface of the ground.  If we
could only vanquish one of these monsters we should
have the handsomest dwelling in the world. But,"
added the huntsmen and the brave officers, "much
heroic blood will flow."  What was to be done? Although the Princess would not hear at first of her
subjects losing their lives in such an unequal contest,
a place of refuge for the night was absolutely necessary,
and she yielded at last to the prayers of Nutcracker
and her assembled nobles, and the Regent chose out
the bravest of the troops to reconnoitre the heath, and
find a fox's cave.
The boy, who had heard much of foxes, and knew
that they were ugly, sly beasts who stole fowls at night,
and sometimes even fell upon the hares and rabbits
in the woods, was appointed by the Regent to lead
the troops about the heath. Nutcracker himself remained with the carriage, in order, as he said, to protect the Princess, and encouraged the departing officers
with the prospect of the brilliant promotion and the
glittering stars of a new order which they were about
to gain.
Gustave, who felt the importance of his office, had
no sooner lost sight of the beautiful little lady than
he stggested to the assembled host under his command
that it would be much better if he should carry them
all, officers and men, in his hands, as they could then
make far greater progress.




THE ELFIN TREE.               19
This suggestion was adopted, and they soon came to
a corner of the forest where the boy saw a great many
little round openings in the ground, which the huntsmen, to whom he showed them, declared were the
holes of foxes. Gustave immediately placed his whole
army upon the ground. But when they began to put
themselves in position it was found that many of the
officers were missing. These brave fellows had been
seized with a panic at sight of the terrible caves, and
had wandered away, Heaven knows where. When the
drummers beat to arms, some were found hidden
away in the boy's pockets. But they declared upon
their honour that they had slipped down there; unwittingly.
One of the holes was immediately surrounded on all
sides, and the commander of the forces called for volunteers who would venture as an advanced guard into
the monster's dwelling. Twenty bearded warriors were
soon ready,-old veterans with huge bear-skin caps,who marched into the little openings, two by two,
with fixed bayonets, and moved slowly onwards. The
boy seized a stout stick, which he found upon the
ground, and placed himself before the largest of the
holes, in order to greet the fox, if he should appear,
with a good blow upon the nose. The whole army
stood around the openings, eager and expectant. As
it was possible that the beast was not at home, but
seeking for prey in the open fields, the precaution was
taken of placing a line of pickets in the rear of the
army, to guard against surprise, and the wisdom of
this military measure was soon made manifest. For
no sooner had the brave veterans disappeared in the




0o             THE ELFIN TREE.
bowels of the earth than the outside posts rushed in
to the next in line, and these others upon those in
front of them, announcing with loud shouts that a
horrible monster was approaching in great haste. Oh,
heavens! how many sighs and prayers burst from
the lips of these valiant officers and men, for the
dreaded creature was indeed coming!  It grieves
me to confess that at this moment most of the corps
commanders and officers lost their heads.  They
issued  all sorts of contradictory commands, and
ordered the poor soldiers hither and thither, who, not
knowing what was best to be done, wisely followed
their natural impulses and ran away. The huntsmen,
however, did not imitate this inglorious example; but,
hiding behind large blades of grass and pebbles, prepared to receive the monster with well-aimed bullets.
Yes, it was old Sir Reynard himself who was hurrying
home. On he came in full career; but whether he
perceived that matters around his dwelling were not
all right I cannot say-at any rate, he slackened his
pace and looked cautiously about.  The boy stood
very near the entrance of the hole, half concealed by
a tree, with his club tight in his hand, and, as he was
braver than Nutcracker's whole army put together, he
did not finch, but let the fox get quite near, and then,
just as the old fellow was about to stick his nose into
the opening, he gave him such a blow upon his head
that Reynard turned round and ran like a shot away
over the fields. Unfortunately he took the direction in
which the greater part of the army had gone just before, and innumerable cries of anguish soon informed
the boy that the fox had reached the flying host. But,




THE ELFIN TREE.                21
as Reynard was intent only upon escape, he did not
stop to do the little people any harm, but, only running over some battalions of infantry and a few squadrons of dragoons, he quickly vanished in the dark
night.
As all danger was now at an end, officers and soldiers
went back quickly to the fox's hole, and as in the meantime the brave volunteers had returned from exploring
it, and reported that it was quite empty and most
suitably provided with apartments and passages, a message to this effect was soon dispatched to Regent Nutcracker, who appeared upon his camel with a mounted
escort. The Princess followed him in her carriage, as
well as the whole train, and when they had all entered
the hole they fell into one another's arms with mutual
congratulations at having obtained so splendid a capital
city.
The Regent summoned the volunteers into his presence, and, in view of the extraordinary service which
they had this night rendered the State, he condescended
to address to them some words of commendation, while
he appointed all the officers, even those who had run
away, knights of a newly-founded order, the gold
crosses of which were, of course, distributed by the
noble Nutcracker, who took care to provide himself
with one also.
The boy, who had certainly contributed the largest
share towards the happy termination of the dangers
of the night, was greatly surprised to receive no words
of praise from Regent Nutcracker, but to be commanded by him to lay aside his club,-a command
which pained him not a little.  He was somewhat




22            THE ELFIN TREE.
comforted, however, on receiving a kindly nod from
the little lady, although he imagined that he could
perceive that her face was not as cheerful as before;
nay, he even thought her eyes filled with tears, and
that she sighed deeply.  The Regent bustled down
from his camel and commanded the carriers, who were
standing by their laden carts, to proceed directly into
the cave with their trunks and boxes, while the tradespeople would fit up the interior for the reception of
the Princess. The little men worked with such diligence and rapidity that it was really a pleasure to
hear them hammering and sawing. The soldiers assisted to purify and level the many passages into the
cave. Sentinels were posted at stated distances along
these passages; and when all these precautions were
taken the Regent commanded all to enter their new
dwelling, and, once more mounting his camel, rode
before the Princess's carriage.
The poor boy, who beheld all these arrangements,
saw clearly that he would have to remain behind, so
he approached the carriage and said mournfully to the
pretty little lady, "Ah, fairest Princess, what will become of me? Will you leave me here alone upon the
ground in the dark night, which will kill me with
cold when you have vanished from my eyes-you whose
kindly look alone has warmed and cheered me?"
At these words the Regent turned around upon his
camel and said in rather a haughty manner, "We
thank you, in the name of the kingdom, for the services you have rendered. You have done your duty,
and we shall bear you in remembrance as long as we
live."




THE ELFIN 7REE.                 23
The boy, who did not even look at the Regent,
noticed that at these words the face of the little lady
grew sadder than before, and that large tears were
really rolling down her cheeks. She stretched out to
him her little white hand and said softly, "Ah, dear
friend, I shall surely see you again." Whereupon
the noble Nutcracker motioned to move on, the
horses started, and the carriage vanished like lightning into the interior of the cave. The soldiers followed, first the infantry, then the cavalry, and, last of
all, the huntsmen, with the deer and hares, who did
not seem at all afraid, and soon all had disappeared
under ground. For awhile the rattling of the vehicles
could be heard, and the measured tread of the soldiery;
but this grew fainter and more distant, and at last all
was quiet and still.
The boy looked around him with amazement, and
noticed for the first time, as he gazed over the desolate
heath, how piercingly cold was the keen morning wind.
What should he do?  Although all the occurrences
of the past night were so wonderful that they seemed
to him like a beautiful dream, he was too well convinced of their reality not to fear bitter ill-treatment, on his return home, from his cruel mistress and
her children, who would most probably regard him as
a thief that had stolen all these things and hidden
them away.
And, alas! his forebodings were but too well founded,
for scarcely had the day dawned when the cruel mistress of the house arose and went up to the attic, where
poor Gustave usually slept, to waken him that he might
fetch the water and make the fires. She was not a




24            THE  ELFIN TREE.
little surprised to find his bed empty. "Aha!" thought
she, " for once he has minded his duty, and has probably gone to the spring to wash himself." So she went
down stairs again and looked out into the yard, but no
boy was to be seen or heard there. She waited for
him a little while, and then, shaking her head, she
went and got a stick with which to beat him as soon
as he should appear. But as he did not come she went
into the room, where the Christmas-tree was and all the
toys, to make the fire there herself. How shall I describe her fright when, upon entering, she found not
a trace of the beautiful toys which she herself had
yesterday bought and placed there?  At first she
thought that her eyes deceived her, and ran to the
windows and tore open the curtains.  But this did
not help her-everything had vanished.
So she ran and awakened her husband, who hurriedly dressed himself and went into the room,
where, however, he found nothing more than his
wife had found.  And the children, too, aroused
by the noise, ran after their parents, and, although
they were much pleased at sight of the great hemlock tree, they began to cry and bawl loudly, when
their mamma told them of the beautiful toys which
Kriss Kringle had brought them, and which had all
disappeared.
In her first fright the woman had forgotten that poor
Gustave was not yet at home; but she suddenly remembered him, and cried out that he had stolen the
toys and made off with them. Her husband, too,
when he heard that the boy was gone, thought her suspicions well founded, and the children screamed and




THE ELFIN TREE.                23
howled, declaring that Gustave was just the boy to do
such a thing.
Preparations were immediately made to follow and
bring him back, and the maids and men-servants were
sent out into the town to search for him, while the
father himself got ready to assist them. The children,
weary of crying and lamenting, were examining the
hemlock tree, and the moss at its foot, when one of
them showed to the others a very queer little figure,
that he had found. It had no arms nor legs, but a
red face, like a man's, a very wide mouth and small,
green eyes. The children looked at it, and, placing
it upon the table, were much amused to see how it
always stood upon its head and waggled the stump
of its body in the air.  But when the father saw
that of all the Christmas gifts nothing was left but
this one juggler, he was so angry that he took him in
his hand and was going to crush him; but the children begged so earnestly that he would not harm the
poor fellow that he did not break him, but carelessly
slipped him into his pocket. Then he took his hat
and stick and hurried out of the house to look for the
runaway boy.
In the mean time the day had grown bright, so that
all objects were easily distinguished. A few steps from
the house he saw something red upon the ground. He
picked it up and found with astonishment that it was
one of the officers of the wooden soldiers, with his head
all cracked on one side.  "Aha!" thought he, "I am
on the right track here," and unfortunately some unseen power seemed to direct his steps, for he followed
exactly the road taken by the little people on the pre3




26            THE ELFIN TREE.
vious night, and soon reached the common where he
found the poor boy who had fallen asleep before the
fox's hole.
He shook him  roughly, and poor Gustave was
frightened enough.  He fell upon his knees and
prayed for mercy, but his prayers were of no avail;
his master seized the stick with which the boy had
chased away the fox and thrashed him soundly, calling
out to him to confess where he had hidden all the
beautiful toys. In vain the boy declared that he had
not carried them off (and he spoke the truth, for
they had gone of themselves). The man called him
a wicked thief, and, seizing him  by the collar,
dragged him home, where his mistress repeated the
punishment and then locked him in a dark cellar,
bidding him stay there until he should confess what
had become of all the lovely toys.
When their father was composed again, the children
asked him to give them the juggler that he had put into
his pocket, but he searched for it in vain; he could
not find what they wanted. As he thought he must
have dropped it where he had found the boy, he sent
the children thither to look for the ugly little fellow.
After awhile they returned without having found him,
but bringing with them a quantity of wooden soldiers,
which they said they had found lying on the ground
just outside of the many openings to the fox's cave.
The cruel mistress was now convinced that the boy
had stolen all the rest of the toys and taken them
with him, and with blows and abuse she commanded
him instantly to confess.  The cellar where poor
Gustave was imprisoned was terribly cold and dark.




THE ELFIN TREE.                27
Although he would not have cared if they had found
and brought back Regent Nutcracker and all the
soldiery and tradesfolk, he could not help weeping
bitterly at the idea of their finding the poor little
lady and bringing her back also, without that kindly
smile upon her face which had beamed upon him
when she came to life, and at the thought that the
naughty children of the house would throw her about,
break her lovely head perhaps, and soil the splendid
white silk dress. But at last a way out of his difficulties occurred to him. He confessed to his cruel
mistress that he knew where the toys were, and that
he would bring them back if she would let him go
alone for them, but declared that if she would not, he
would sooner be beaten to death than tell another word
about them. He hoped that he might be able to enlarge one of the passages to the fox's hole, so that he
could creep in and capture Nutcracker and the rest of
the little people.  But he resolved firmly never to
bring back the little white lady, but rather to leave
her forever in her palace under ground than give her
up to wicked people.
When the mistress saw that she could do nothing
with him, she let the poor boy have his way, and he
went out upon the heath with a little spade to begin
his work there.
But how can I describe his astonishment and fright
when he saw standing beside the fox's hole a huntsman with two or three little dogs, that he was en
couraging to creep into the various openings? The
huntsman, quite an old man, had a kind, honest face,
and bade the boy good-morning; whereupon the latter




28            THE EL FIN TREE.
seized l.im by the hand and entreated him not to let
the dogs get into the cave.  The huntsman replied
with a smile that he could not grant his request, for
there was a large fox in this den, that had done a
great deal of damage already, and that had eluded
every effort made to capture him. The old man spoke
so kindly, and inspired the boy with so much confidence, that he told him in as few words as possible the
strange occurrences of the past night. The huntsman
listened and was not a little affected when the boy, in
his simplicity, told him how he had wanted to meet the
holy Christ-child in the night that he might beg him
to bring him some little gift. To be sure he shook his
head at the account of the animated toys, but the boy
assured him so earnestly that he was telling the truth
that the old man did not know what to think, and,
moved by the child's entreaties, turned to his dogs to
call them off from the fox-hole.
But it was too late; they had already disappeared in
the openings and were heard growling and barking
inside.
"Ah!" cried the boy, "now all, all is lost! they
will bite the poor beautiful little lady in the white silk
dress to death-that poor dear little lady who gave
me her hand so kindly, and who was so afraid of being
soiled by the children's hands, will now be torn to
pieces by the dogs!"
The old man, moved by the child's distress, took a
little silver whistle from his girdle, and, after calling
on the dogs loudly by name, he whistled three times
to hurry them back to him from the hole. Then the
noise and barking in the fox-hole grew louder, and




THE ELFIN TREE.                29
you could hear that the dogs were shaking something
before them. Still they came nearer and nearer to
the surface until one of them  crept out of the
opening, dragging a figure which Gustave recognized, to his great astonishment, as the brave and
noble Nutcracker, whose misshapen limbs and thick
head lay stark and stiff upon the ground. Gustave
seized him and showed him to the huntsman. Ah!
no trace of life could be discovered in him.  His
queue behind stood out uncommonly stiff; his jaws
were tight set, and when the boy tried to open them
he found that the joint was broken and useless.
Unkind as the Regent had been to him, poor Gustave would not have grudged a tear to his untimely fate
if it had not suddenly occurred to him that the shameless Nutcracker had forsaken the poor Princess, and
probably left her to die. One dog after another crept
out, bringing quantities of the vanished toys. One
had scraped together a whole heap of soldiers, and the
poor fellows lay there stiff and motionless, with their
guns upon their shoulders and their bear-skin caps upon
their heads. Another dog had a horse by the neck, and
dragged him out, bringing with him the whole team,
dray, driver, and all. A third hauled out a quantity
of harmless promenaders; in short, the dogs brought
out in time all the toys, and the boy was every moment fearful that the poor little lady would appear
hacked and torn like all the other things. But she did
not come, and the last dog appeared at one of the
openings. Gustave hardly dared to look, so fearful
was he of beholding the poor Princess; but instead,
the dog had in his mouth something which the bov
3*




so            THE ELFIN TREE.
hastily picked up, for it looked just like the malicious
little fellow who had stood so defiantly on his head
before him. "Ah!" thought Gustave to himself, "this
is the evil sorcerer,  it is his fault that they found
me here, and that all these poor creatures have grown
stiff and stark again." And, in a sudden fit of anger,
he tore off the sorcerer's red head and threw him far
away. Then it seemed as though all the figures which
lay dead upon the ground twitched and stirred a little;
yes, the noble Nutcracker made one vain attempt to
drop his lower jaw, but the spark of life was extinct,they all lay there cold and dead.
The boy gathered together all the toys and wrapped
them in a cloth that he had brought with him. The
huntsman stopped up all the openings to the fox-hole,
and made a curious mark upon it with his huntingknife, which would prevent, he said, any animal from
ever creeping in there again, "in order," he added,
smiling, "that your poor little Princess may not be
disturbed in her sleep."
The sympathy which the boy had shown for the lifeless figures pleased the old man, and the frank, open
bearing of the lad attracted him greatly, so he went
into town with him to the merchant's house, where the
cruel mistress, at sight of the spoiled playthings, attempted again to beat and abuse Gustave. But the
huntsman reproved her roughly for her violence, which
made her very angry, and she asked why he interfered with matters which did not concern him. However, when the huntsman announced that he was the
Keeper of the neighbouring forests, and wished to take
the boy with him, that he might make a skilfll hunts



THE ELFIN TREE.                3x
man of him, the bad woman grew more amiable, and,
as she was sure that she could not get rid of the boy
more easily, she talked it over with her husband, and
both gave their consent, to Gustave's great joy, for he
had already grown fond of the old huntsman.
They immediately started off, and when they came
to the fox-hole the boy stood still for a moment, folded
his hands, and gazed sadly at the hillock, as one would
contemplate a grave. Ah I for him it was indeed a
grave, for there lay the beautiful little lady in her
white silk dress, with her pleasant little face, and perhaps she was cold and dead, like the other toys; but
perhaps she was only asleep and dreaming. The old
huntsman took the boy by the hand, and they both
strode sturdily on towards the forest. On the way
Gustave had to tell again the story of the previous
night, and the old man, who had at first scarcely credited what the boy told him of the moving toys, shook
his head thoughtfully and said: " My child, you have
a nature sensitive to things that would never stir the
imagination of a common man, therefore the forest
will be an open book for you, and you will learn and
understand much from the rustle of the leaves, the
odour of the violet, the ripple of the mountain-brook,
and from a thousand other things. Oh, the forest is
so fair, so sacredly fair!"
Thus talking, they arrived, as the sun began to descend, at the Keeper's cottage, which stood upon an
eminence in the middle of the forest.  Although
winter had robbed the poor trees of their brightest
attire, and although they stood sadly with  their
naked boughs trembling with cold, the boy thought




32            THIE ELFIN TREE.
it far more grand and glorious here than among
the gloomy houses of the town. Here, in the forest,
the ground was covered with white snow, from which
only little black stalks and moss peeped curiously
forth, begging Brother Wind to brush the snow
from their stems.  The boughs of the large trees,
particularly the hemlocks, were heavy with snow, and
hung low down; and yet one could look beneath
them far into the depths of the wood. How merrily the
roes sprang about! And sometimes a strong, stately
stag would stand still for a moment, listening to the
approaching footsteps, and then, with a couple of
bounds, vanish into the thicket.
The sun set slowly, and threw its red, glowing beams
deep into the wood, so that one side of the trees looked
golden.  A fine, blue mist arose from  the valleys
which grew grayer and darker, and, when the man
and boy were near the forest-house, it had become
dark as midnight, and through the gloom shone the
light of a lamp like a guiding star. This the huntsman pointed out to Gustave, and told him that where
that shone his home would be. As they approached it,
some great dogs began to bark loudly, and sprang joyfully towards the new-comers. An old woman, the
huntsman's sister, opened the door, and, when her
brother told her the boy's story, and how he had taken
him from a cruel mistress, she stroked the lad's hair
kindly and gave him a cordial welcome. Ah! poor
Gustave had never passed so happy and comfortable an
evening, as this in the forester's cottage. He could sit by
the bright blazing fire, and, instead of the harsh words
that he had been used to, the huntsman listened kindly




THE ELFIN TREE.                33
to his childish questions and talked with him, and even
the great dogs came and laid their heads upon his
knee and looked confidingly at him with their large,
shining eyes.
When it was time to retire, he was not sent, as in
the merchant's house, to a miserable sack of straw
under the roof, but the forester's sister made him a
nice bed in a pretty little room, where he could pass
the night, and wished him a good-night too, which
had never happened to him in his life before, so he
went quietly and gently to sleep.
Never had he slept so well in his life; he dreamed
of all kinds of lovely things, and once in his dreams
Regent Nutcracker appeared to him, and, grinning at
him, showed his teeth and said, laughing scornfully,
" Do you see, do you see,-to be sure we are broken
and spoiled by naughty children; but the gracious
Princess reposes far under the ground, and you will
never see her again,-ha! ha! ha! " This made the boy
very sad, and he felt the tears rolling down his cheeks
in his sleep; but then the Nutcracker vanished suddenly again, and he saw the little lady lying back upon
the silken cushions of her carriage, leaning her head
upon her hand and sleeping quietly. The head of the
coachman upon the box was bent forward upon his
breast, and the horses stood still with closed eyes.
But the winter morning's kindly sun scared away
these varied dreams from the boy's couch, and he
awakened gay and happy. The huntsman soon called
him and took him into the forest, where he showed
him  how the little trees were growing out of the
ground, and how the various animals left their footC




34             THE ELFIN TREE.
prints in the snow,-told him  that there a noble
stag had passed, that these were the footprints of
a roe, and that here Master Reynard had scampered
past, after killing a cock or a young hare. And although the boy listened attentively to all that the old
man told him, he was most interested in observing the
tracks of the fox, for he always remembered the pretty
little lady, and thought how he might find her again if
the old fox should ever return to his dwelling and
manage to get in.
The old huntsman's affection for the boy continued
to increase,-he taught him  something new every
day, and nothing  pleased Gustave more than to
wander through the forest.  But when the spring
came, and with the disappearance of frost and snow
the earth grew green and young, he did indeed
delight in his forest life. For the first time he saw
how the buds of the trees swelled larger and larger,
until some warm wind would kiss them open and the
tender little leaves peeped out, and, when free from
their prison, began to grow lustily, and soon shaded
the delicate, mossy covering of the ground. He could
have watched for hours the young trees which, springing from the earth, became stronger and taller from
day to day. And just so he grew himself, and became,
under the kind care of the huntsman, and in the
pure air of the forest, big and strong. Weeks and
months passed, and several Christmas-days had come
and gone, and upon these days Gustave thought more
steadily and earnestly, than at any other time, of the
night when he wandered forth with the toys. Sometimes he visited the merchant's house in the town, and




THE ELFIN TREE.                35
upon the way always looked for the fox-hole in which
the beautiful little lady was sleeping; but distinctly
as he remembered all about it, he searched in vain for
the place where the brave Regent Nutcracker had dismounted from his camel and disappeared with his train
within the hillock. He did not much like to visit
the town, for they did not seem very glad to see him
in the merchant's house, and he preferred to stay in
his forest-home with his dogs, who loved him dearly.
The only relic of former times which he possessed was
the little ring which the Princess had given him, and
which he prized highly. He wore it attached to a
riband around his neck.
Thus Gustave got to be sixteen years old, and became a skilful huntsman. As his adopted father, the
forester, grew aged and infirm, he remained much at
home, and Gustave went about the forest alone, accompanied by his dogs, with his trusty gun upon his
shoulder and his sharp, shining hunting-knife by his
side.
One day he was sauntering about under the trees,
and, as was often the case, with no thoughts of entrapping game  he let the stags and roes, unmolested, cross his path, -walked slowly along, sunk
in a reverie, in which the little lady in the white silk
dress played a principal part. He went on until he
ascended an eminence where the trees were not so
thick, and whence he could look abroad and survey
the country all around. There, under one of the
stoutest oaks, the youth saw an old man sitting with
several pieces of snow-white hemlock and linden-wood
by his side, from which he was carving all sorts of




36            ITHE ELFIN TREE.
figures and articles with his knife. He had made
spoons and forks, animals, and even human figures, all
fashioned as delicately and naturally as possible. The
young huntsman approached, and bidding the old man
a friendly good-morning, which was kindly returned,
he entered into conversation with him.
"Ah!" said Gustave, "you are carving beautiful
things there, and they will bring a good price in the
town. "
"Yes," replied the old man,  I work here in the
open air, with glorious nature all around me, for this
is the finest and cheapest work-shop that can be had;
and my living is no great expense to me, for the brook
ripples past me down the hill, murmuring, as its goes,' Come, old fellow, drink me.' And then the strawberries and blackberries nod to me from the bushes,
and invite me to dine; and when night comes I draw
my cloak over my head, lie down upon the moss and
sleep, commending myself to God."
"But," rejoined the youth, "is your artistic labour
so unprofitable that you are forced to lead such a
life?"
"Ah! my dear huntsman," said the wood-carver,' there are so many people who work as artistically, as
you call it, and even more so, that it is hard to make
anything by my labour.  But, if I should be lucky
enough to find, for example, some of the wood of the
Elfin Tree, I could earn something indeed, only this
tree is so very rare, and those who find it do not know
how to use it."
"What!" asked the huntsman, "the Elfin Tree?
The name is an odd one, and, although I know all




THE ELFIN TREE.                37
the trees and shrubs in the forest, I have never heard
of it."
"I can readily believe that," laughed the old man,
" People do not usually prate about everything as stupidly as I do. But your face is so honest and innocent that I seemed to be speaking to the open sky, and
the words escaped me I know not how,-forget them."
But at the mention of this wonderful tree, a thrill
shot through the young huntsman's soul and awakened
strange desires and thoughts there, which he could not
understand. He was so desirous to know something
more of the Elfin Tree that he did not cease to question the old man until the latter said, laughing, " Well,
well, you are a curious fellow, but as you look so
honest and open, and do not belong to my trade, I
will tell you all that I know of the Elfin Tree,-only
you must promise," added the wood-carver, laughing,
"that if you should ever be fortunate enough to find
such a tree (which is not impossible, for huntsmen
tramping around through night and mist, see and hear
all kinds of things), you will let me have some of the
wood."
After Gustave had given the wood-carver this promise, the latter took a fresh piece of wood, and, as he
began carving a spoon out of it, gave the young huntsman the following account:
" You know well that, besides the human race, there
live a great number of other creatures upon and under
the earth, who look like human beings, although they
are a great deal smaller and weaker in body. But in
spirit they are far more powerful than we, and perform
much which we mortals would gladly imitate, but
4




38             THE ELFIN TREE.
which our coarse physical nature renders impossible.
To these beings belong, to begin with the meanest,
the Brownies, a spiteful race," he added, in a low
tone, looking carefully around him, "impudent, vulgar
creatures, who do all the harm they can to men and
animals. These Brownies are called Root-men, for they
look like black radishes split in two below, and have
green hair that grows out like leaves. After them
come the Kobolds,-crooked, dumpy fellows, —better
than the others, however, for, although they are bad
and malicious, it sometimes happens that they take a
fancy to some mortal and assist him from time to time.
These are followed by the Dwarfs, an honest, brave race,
but very capricious, who often worry both men and
beasts for very wantonness. But the best, noblest, and
most beautiful class of these beings are the Elves, in
whose hearts there is neither caprice nor treachery, but
who hover around the fragrant herbs and flowers of the
forest in the night, and refresh the soul of the mortal,
who is fortunate enough to hear them, with their wondrous and bewitching songs. They hold themselves
aloof from but do not fear the Dwarfs and Kobolds,
whose greater brute force is no match for the powerful
magic art of the Elves. Notwithstanding that the Elves
are more beautiful and better than mortals, it frequently happens that an Elfin maiden becomes enamoured of a mortal man and reveals herself to him on
summer nights to jest and play with him. But this
cannot last long, for either the mortal faithlessly forsakes the poor Elf, or she must leave him, and endure
the cruel punishment awarded to those who fall in love
with mortals. She is changed for a hundred years into a




THE ELFIN TREE.                39
tree, and thus must constantly witness the merry sports
of her sisters, who, in stormy weather, can slip into their
palaces of crystal, while she remains outside, her
tender limbs, which are only fitted for clear moonlight and warm summer air, exposed to biting winds
and frosts. These trees grow in the most unfrequented
paths, or in deep abysses, and there is a magic circle
drawn around them which almost always causes men
involuntarily to avoid their neighbourhood, and besides the Elfin Tree looks like a common hemlock, so
that one might pass it a hundred times without noticing it. But whoever is, by any chance, fortunate
enough to find such a tree, may consider himself born
under a lucky star indeed, for see, my young huntsman,
I labour hard enough to carve out these little matters
from this wood, but whoever gets a piece of the Elfin
Tree has only to frame the wish and in one moment he
can complete whatever figure he will, be it man or
beast, and the work is artistic indeed. And, what is
more," he added in a whisper, "the figures carved out
of this wood can come to life on Christmas-eve, if only
an evil spell resting upon them is removed, and then
whoever understands questioning them can discover
whatever he wishes,-they will tell, for example, where
gold is to be found, where hidden treasure is buried,
and such like."
The young huntsman had listened attentively to this
narrative, and it may readily be imagined that he remembered the beautiful little white lady,-as well as Sir
Nutcracker, -and all the little assemblage, and he
thought it not improbable that they might all have
been made out of the wood of the Elfin Tree which




40             THE ELFIN TREE.
some one had found without knowing it. He hesitated
for awhile whether he should make known his strange
adventure to the old wood-carver, but at last determined
to give him the history of that far-off Christmas night,
for it seemed to be his duty to do so when the old man
had reposed such confidence in him, in telling him all
about the Elfin Tree.
But how shall I describe the old man's astonishment
when Gustave told him all,-how he had killed the evil
sorcerer, and how the whole company had left the house
to go out into the world; how he had accompanied them
and had helped them to chase away the fox, in whose
hole the whole assemblage had disappeared! In short,
he told him everything most minutely, and at last expressed his conviction that the little lady in the white
silk dress was still asleep under ground, and might yet
be released. When he had finished, the old man sprang
up, shouting for joy, and embraced the young huntsman, while he assured him that he was one of Fortune's
favourites, and must at least come to be a great lord in
the land.
After he had given vent to his joy for awhile, he sat
down quietly beside Gustave, leaned his head upon his
hand, and becoming more serious said, "Alas! alas!
old fool that I am, I forgot that we shall never be able
to bring out the little lady from the earth and disenchant her, for to do this we need another Elfin Tree,
which I am afraid neither of us can ever find."
These words came like a thunder-clap to poor
Gustave, who already saw in imagination the little
Princess coming forth from the ground, and growing larger and larger, and, before he knew it, he




THE ELFIN TREE.                41
had taken her in his arms and kissed her charming
rosy lips-all in imagination, you see. But his dreams
were all dispelled, and he only half listened while the
old man told how a number of cones from the Elfin
Tree must be planted upon the spot of ground beneath
which the little lady was sleeping.
"The first midnight after they are planted," he
said, "there spring from them little trees which grow
no larger above ground, but whose roots dive deep
into the earth and thrust and stretch themselves out
far on every side. Thus they would entirely surround
with their net-work the couch where the little lady
sleeps, and the tree would then pour out all the power
and force, which it might have used in growing to
be a lofty, strong tree, upon the little Princess,
whom it would thus reanimate, and she would grow
taller and lovelier, until she issued from her prisonhouse of mortal size and blooming in the rarest beauty.
Most certainly," the old man added, " you would then
be the happiest of men, for the maiden would combine
with the beauty of an Elf, the constancy and wisdom of
the Elfin race. The ring which she gave you, and which
you have kept so faithfully, has alone protected her,
and prevented her from losing her life with Regent
Nutcracker and the other figures, and this ring it is
which will bind her to you all her life long."
In the mean while the sun had set and it began to be
very dark night. So the huntsman arose, and bidding
the old man good-night, said that his foster-parents
were waiting for him at home, and would be anxious if
he stayed so late in the forest. Then they agreed to
4*




42             THE ELFIN TREE.
meet at the same time and upon the same spot three
days afterwards to consult how they might try to find
the Elfin Tree. The old man was more sanguine than
Gustave and sought to inspire him with hope. But the
latter shook his head mournfully, and said, as he departed, "Ah, I must wander sadly through the forest
all my life long, and shall never again see the lovely
little lady whom I love so truly and deeply."
Thus they separated, and the huntsman, who had not
remembered how great was the distance from home,
now saw that he had so far to go that it would be very
late before he could reach it. It was the first time
that he had been alone in the woods so late at night,
and although he had no fear of robbers or any such
thing, still he had on his way home to pass through
a small but deep glen, which was regarded with suspicion as not all right by the country people. They
maintained that the Dwarfs held their nightly meetings
there, and ill treated any mortal who saw them at such
times. The huntsman thought of these stories as he
strode on through the forest. But he seized his gun
firmly, remembered the little lady, and was not afraid.
When he had walked some distance, the moon rose
slowly upon his path and glittered mildly through the
green boughs before him. She shone into his face,
so that whether he would or not he had to gaze upon
her full orb.  Thus he gradually approached the
glen which the Dwarfs frequented, and soon saw it
lying dark before him.  He entered it boldly without fear, and had nearly passed through it when he
heard the noise of an axe upon the hills which bordered his path upon one side. Involuntarily he stayed




THE ELFIN TREE.                43
his footsteps and thought to himself that it was strange
that any one should be cutting wood here so late at
night. And then a suspicion entered his mind that it
might be thieves, who were using the silence of night
to rob his adopted father, so he immediately turned
towards the side whence the sound proceeded and
began to ascend the hill. But when he had reached
the spot where he thought he should find the trespasser,
he heard the sound of the axe far beyond him. Without stopping to think, he followed the noise, and, after
he had climbed up and down several hills, he became
convinced that the sound was much nearer than before;
but just when he thought that he could not possibly be
more than several steps from it, it suddenly ceased and
a cry was heard very much like the violent weeping of
a child. The huntsman quickly hurried towards this
new sound, and soon stepped out upon a little open
space and stood chained to the spot with wonder at
what he saw.
In the midst of this space was to be seen the stump
of a tolerably large hemlock, the trunk and branches
of which lay cut off upon the ground; but beside the
stump stood a Dwarf scarcely two feet high, who held
a little axe in his hand, with which he had, as it seemed,
just cut down the hemlock. At first the huntsman
was not a little amazed to see the Dwarf jumping wildly
around the stump like mad while he uttered the abovementioned cries. But, upon a nearer approach, he
found to his astonishment that the Dwarf's beard, which
was almost as long as his whole body, was caught fast
in a split of the wood. In vain the little man seized
it with both hands and tried to pull it out, and as often




44             THE ELFIN TREE.
as he made the attempt he cried out aloud and made
the strangest hops into the air.
After the huntsman had watched the little fellow for
a few moments, he drew near him and asked him civilly
how he came to this pass. The Dwarf regarded him
for a moment with his little red eyes, then rolled out
a shower of curses, and told the youth that it was not
his part to ask such stupid questions, but to release
him instantly. In spite of this uncivil reply, Gustave
was inclined, in his good humour, to assist him, and
with this purpose picked up from the ground a large
wedge, with which the Dwarf had apparently attempted
to split the tree.
Scarcely had the huntsman picked up the wedge
from the ground when the Dwarf cried out angrily to
him, "Can't you hurry, you stupid, lazy fellow? You
mortals are good for nothing.  Be quick, or I will
help you."  At these last words the little man lifted
one of his little legs, and in his rage kicked at the
huntsman, who, although he had thought the first insolent speech made by the Dwarf excessively ridiculous,
was now provoked at the little thing's impudence, and
said, " Hearken, little rogue, if it is your way to ask
a favour in this style, it is ours not to grant it when so
asked, and if you are not immediately more quiet and
civil, I've a great mind to leave you where you are."
Then the Dwarf fell into an indescribable rage; his
eyes fairly flashed in his head; he roared out the most
frightful curses at the huntsman, and at last even seized
his axe and threw it at the head of the young man
with such violence that, if he had not sprung aside, he
would have been killed. As it was, it flew against the




' Then the Dwarf fell into an indescribable rage; his eyes fairly flashed
in his head."
Page 44.








THE ELFIN TREE.               45
trunk of an oak, in which it stuck fast with its handle
trembling.
"Ah!" said the huntsman, "if this is your game,
I shall act accordingly." And then he drew his long,
broad hunting-knife from his girdle, upon the blade of
which he had, like a pious forester, engraved a cross,
and with the flat of it belaboured the little fellow stoutly.
At first the Dwarf's rage seemed every moment to
increase at this summary treatment. He twisted and
turned like an eel to escape the heavy blows; but,
turn as he would, the huntsman knew how to choose
the right time and spot, and not one of his blows went
astray,-so the little fellow grew quieter by-and-by.
From abuse he fell to weeping, and before long he
begged most movingly that the huntsman would desist
and release him.
Gustave, who was very good-humoured, did desist
at these entreaties, and, seizing the wedge again, was
about to open the split in the tree when the thought
suddenly occurred to him, "Why cannot I make it a
condition of the Dwarf's release that he shall show me
where to find an Elfin Tree?" No sooner thought than
done. He took the wedge in his hand and told the
Dwarf what he desired. At first the little fellow pretended  to know nothing about it, and declared
peevishly that he could not help him.
"Well," said the hunter, "if you will not tell me
voluntarily where to find such a tree, I will force you
to do so," and he dropped the wedge and took out his
hunting-knife again.
" Let that alone! let that alone!" shrieked the Dwarf,
in the greatest distress, when he saw this movement,




46             THE ELFIN TREE.
"do let that alone, for this very tree that is holding me
fast by my beautiful beard is an Elfin Tree!"
You can easily imagine the joy with which the huntsman let go his hunting-knife, and once more took up
the wedge to release the Dwarf. He seemed now near
the fulfilment of his dearest wishes; he would be able
to reanimate and release the beautiful little lady. He
hastily tore the little axe from the oak tree, and with a
few blows he had driven the wedge so far into the
hemlock stump that the Dwarf could pull out his beard.
But no sooner had the little fellow recovered his liberty than, with a hearty curse, he sprang into the
thicket and vanished among the trees.
Gustave quietly let him go his way, while with the
Dwarf's axe he cut off a large block of the Elfin Tree,
and filled his pocket with the most beautiful cones that
were to be found upon the branches of the hemlock.
Then he took his gun upon his shoulder and went
hastily home.
His foster-parents were not a little anxious about
him.  He told them that he had wandered too far
into the wood, and, as he had returned so cheerful and
bright, they went to bed and to sleep quiet and happy.
Gustave, however, instead of following their example,
took the little terriers who had formerly dragged forth
Regent Nutcracker and the soldiers from the foxhole and hurried with them out to the heath, hoping,
with their assistance, to find the spot beneath which
the beautiful little lady was sleeping. But he could
hardly have gained his end without the assistance
of the cones of the Elfin Tree, for the dogs ran hither
and thither over the plain, while Gustave felt him



THE ELFIN TREE.                47
self impelled by some invisible power towards a
certain spot, and he was shortly convinced that this
was the place he had so long sought for.
It was about midnight when he drew out of his
pocket one of the hemlock cones and stuck it into the
ground.  He still doubted the success of his undertaking, and his astonishment was great when he suddenly saw a little hemlock tree spring up before him,
which, although only a few inches high, was in every
respect a perfect miniature full-grown tree. Gustave
could hardly restrain his joy when he saw thus how
near was the deliverance of the beautiful little lady.
After three days, he set out to find the wood-carver
at the appointed time and place. But first he searched
through the wood to try to find the place where he had
released the Dwarf, that he might procure some more
of the wonderful wood of the Elfin Tree. But, although
he found the place again, he could see nothing where
the stump had stood but a dirty little swamp filled with
frogs and other reptiles, who lifted their heads and
croaked at him. He turned quickly away and sought
the opening in the forest where he had met the old
man, and where he now met him again. The woodcarver was very melancholy, and informed him that, in
spite of all his exertions, he had been unable to find
any clue to where he should find an Elfin Tree. He
told Gustave, however, that he had visited the merchant's house in the town, where he had found, among
some other toys, a Nutcracker, who was apparently the
same who had come to life on that Christmas-eve. He
drew him out, and Gustave recognized him instantly.
But how was the noble Nutcracker altered! His red




48             THE ELFIN TREE.
breeches had become black, his spurs were broken off,
and his sabre was entirely gone; and, although his
mouth was as large as ever, those long, sharp teeth
which had so adorned it were gone, broken out, and,
when Gustave lifted his queue, he found that his jaw
was fixed and could not be closed again.
Gustave purposely waited for awhile before he told
the old man what had happened to him within the
last three days. How great was the wood-carver's joy
when he heard it all! He sprang up, fell upon the
young huntsman's neck, and when the latter drew
forth the block of the Elfin Tree the old man seized it,
put it into his pouch, and promised shortly, when they
were needed, to make the most beautiful things out of it.
And now the pair consulted what was further to be
done, and the wood-carver told the huntsman that he
must let the little hemlock tree, sprung from the cone,
grow quietly, until after a certain time it would suddenly begin to shoot up into the air, and "then the
third night afterwards it will disclose an opening in its
roots and give free egress to the enchanted Princess.
And when this shall take place I will return, wherever
I may be at the time, for the smallest splinter of the
Elfin Tree will warn me exactly of the hour."
After this consultation they shook hands, and, taking
a cordial leave of each other, one went one way and
the other another.
Just about this time the adopted father of the young
huntsman often declared to his sister that it was time
to look about for a wife for Gustave, and the old
man insisted that she must possess every possible
good quality: she must be clever and beautiful, and,




THE ELFIN TREE.               49
besides, the forester thought that it would do no harm
if she should be provided with some money. But he
had never been able to find such a one, for when now
and then he had taken a fancy to one of the neighbours' daughters and mentioned the matter to her
parents, they always replied, "Yes, my dear friend,
we should not oppose such an arrangement if the
young huntsman were really your son, but we should
not like to give our daughter to any one so entirely
without birth and parentage." This would vex the old
man, and he would go home and tell it all to his sister
and Gustave. But the young man would always smile
and say, "Ah, dearest father, take no trouble on my
account, I shall find what God has destined for me."
And with these words he would cast a stolen glance
through the window towards the heath where the little
hemlock tree stood, which, however, had not yet
begun to grow tall.
Several months had passed since he had seen the
wood-carver, and the leaves of the trees began to grow
yellow and fall off,-thick mists, too, shrouded the
forest in the mornings and evenings, and the huntsmen
were busied with the chase all day long. But, however weary Gustave might be when returning home in
the evening, he never failed to cross the heath and
look after his little hemlock tree. Thus November
passed. December came, and the people of the town
sent every day to the foresters for hemlocks for Christmas-trees.  The young huntsman, in whose faithful
breast the image of the lovely lady in the white
silk dress was more vivid than ever, hoped for a gift
under his hemlock tree. He went out upon the heath
D               5




50             THE ELFIN TREE.
to watch it several times a day, and great indeed was
his joy when, three days before Christmas, he found
that it had grown at least a foot.
And now scarcely an hour of the day passed without
his watching it, and the boughs and branches grew and
spread almost perceptibly before his eyes. Thus the
holy Christmas-eve approached. The old huntsman told
his foster-son, with a sly smile, that he had better go
out into the forest and attend to something that needed
care. Gustave, who knew that this was because the old
man wished to-night to prepare for him, as on every
previous year, a Christmas surprise, said to himself,
with a quiet smile, "Please God, I shall present you
this evening with a gift that will delight you indeed,"
and with a heart full of expectation, love, and rapture,
he hastened out upon the heath.
The old forester, with his sister, went into the guestchamber, which was furnished with large carved tables
and chairs, and its walls hung with huge stags' antlers.
There stood a tall hemlock covered with candles, and
stuck in the top of it fluttered and waved two large
golden flags.  Under the tree the forester's sister
placed a beautiful new huntsman's dress and a new rifle
richly mounted and inlaid with silver. Without, the
north wind howled through the branches of the trees,
and the mountain-brooks made strange murmurings.
Then suddenly the forester put his hand to his ear, for
he seemed to hear the wheels of a distant carriage.
"Hark!" he said to his sister, "do you hear
nothing? It seems to me that even at this late hour a
carriage is driving up the broad forest-pathway.
Then the sister hastened to the window. The noise




THE ELFIN TREE.               5I
of wheels drew nearer, and she cried out, "You are
right-look! there comes a carriage through the forest,
and it is coming directly here. Now it is stopping at
the gate. Who can it be?"
Then the door of the room was thrown open, and
Gustave entered, leading by the hand a beautiful lady,
who wore a white silk dress, and upon her head a
myrtle wreath with a long, flowing veil.
"Look, father!" cried the young huntsman, joyfully, " this is my lovely bride, whom I hope you will
welcome as a daughter."
The maiden was so lovely and charming to behold,
that the old forester and his sister when they took her
by the hand knew not what to say. And, when the
maiden spoke, her voice sounded like silver bells, and
she said, "I pray you receive me and let me be your
dear daughter." So they were too much delighted to
think who she was or whence she came, but they wept
tears of joy and embraced her most tenderly.
In the midst of their rejoicing, Gustave thought of
his friend, the old wood-carver, and regretted that he
was not present. But, accidentally looking out of the
window, he saw a man in the moonlight coming across
the hill in front of the forester's dwelling, carrying
upon his back a basket, which he put down and began
to unpack, as though he were about to distribute Christmas gifts among the animals in the forest. The young
huntsman saw with astonishment that he took out and
placed upon the ground a pretty little castle, whose
neat windows were suddenly illuminated from within.
Then the man arose and approached the forester's
house with hasty strides, and, as he did so, Gustave




53            THE ELFIN TREE.
saw, to his great delight, that it was his friend, the
wood-carver. But how can I describe his surprise and
wonder when he saw that, as this old friend left the
castle behind him, the little toy grew larger and larger,
and at last became a stately edifice! The windows
glowed with thousands of lights burning inside; great
torches of pitch were blazing at the gates, before
which stood soldiers with bear-skin caps and their
guns upon their shoulders. And now the wood-carver
opened the forester's door, and, seeing the beautiful
young maiden, he made a low bow, and then embraced the young huntsman, saying, "I see with delight that you have removed the evil spell. I have
done my part, and used the Elfin wood which you gave
me to the best advantage."  And then he pointed
through the window to the beautiful castle.
The old forester did not know what to say for very
joy, and, when all went out and ascended the hill to
visit the new and splendid castle, he thought he was
dreaming a lovely dream. Everything here was as
finely ordered and as well arranged as in the palace of
the mightiest king. The young huntsman thought he
recognized old acquaintances in the soldiers with bearskin caps, who presented arms before his bride and
himself at the castle-gates, and the tall huntsman who
stood at the head of the steps and tore open the great
doors seemed also strangely familiar. But when they
came to the grand staircase leading to the splendid
apartments, the young huntsman, who was now called
Prince Gustave, laughed aloud, for there stood Regent
Nutcracker as large as life with two silver candlesticks
in his hands. He made a low bow and announced




THE ELFIN TREE.                53
that he was the chief Steward, and hoped to win their
Graces' favour. His dress, which had been very much
spoiled by the merchant's children, had been repaired
as well as possible. But the spurs and sabre were gone,
and, instead of a hat, he wore a coloured cap trimmed
with bells, which jingled merrily.
And now all ascended the grand staircase, and the
marriage was celebrated with great pomp, and they all
lived together many, many years in peace and happiness,-indeed they must be living still, if they have
not died since.




THE DWARFS' NEST.
ONCE upon a time there lived a man, a weaver by
trade, who was accustomed to procure from the merchants of the town where he dwelt quantities of raw
material in silk and wool, which he wove at his own
house into beautiful fabrics. But as life in a town,
although ever so economical and in the poorest hovel,
was too expensive for his small means, he looked about
for a dwelling somewhere else, and found one at last,
which, although wretched and poverty-stricken enough
in appearance, afforded him at least a shelter from
wind and weather.
This dwelling stood in the neighbourhood of a village near the city, and was a rickety little hut, jutting
out from the side of an old stone wall, which had been
part, in old times, it was said, of a dungeon, and had
belonged to an extensive castle, whose ruins were yet
to be seen in an adjacent field. Close to this dungeon
wall, the village shepherd had, some time before the
beginning of our story, built a small house and lived in
it, that he might be near his flock who found excellent
pasturage among the ruins, where rich grass and weeds
grew luxuriantly between the black, crumbling stones.
(54)




THE DWARES' NEST.               55
But the shepherd had not lived there long when very
odd circumstances forced him to abandon his little
dwelling. Sometimes, for instance, in the middle of
the night there would be such an uproar and commotion among his sheep, lying partly around his
hut and partly in the court-yard of the ruined castle,
that one would have supposed a dozen wolves to be
loose among them. The poor animals would bleat most
piteously and rush hither and thither in the wildest
terror, and away through the fields wherever they
could find an opening in the old walls. Then the
shepherd was obliged to whistle and call to them with
all his might, but the animals, usually so docile and
obedient to his call, would no longer listen to him.
In their flight they often missed their way and would,
at times, fall and perish miserably among the ruins.
The shepherd's dogs, that often battled with and drove
away the wolves from the sheep in the daytime, when
this uproar began in the middle of the night, put their
tails between their legs, howling with terror, and
neither coaxing nor blows could induce them to go
among the sheep and restore order. The shepherd, by
no means a timorous man, was driven to desperation by
the loss of his sheep, and being, of course, wakeful and
on the watch at night, would rush out of his hut at the
first beginning of the tumult, which usually took place
on a moonlight night. But although it was so light that
everything around showed clear and distinct, he could
never discover either man or beast to terrify his flock.
And yet it seemed to him sometimes that, while he was
running hither and thither among the sheep, he could
now and then hear a low laugh, or a faint halloo, like the




56           THE DWARFS' NEST.
distant shout of the hunters when they are following
the chase in the forest.
After several of the villagers, who at first were suspicious of the shepherd when their sheep were lost, had
shared his nightly watch with him, and had seen the
strange commotion among the flock with their own
eyes upon many a moonlight night and heard the faint
shouts and laughter with their own ears, they became
convinced that it was all the work of the Brownies or
Dwarfs, who had from time immemorial inhabited the
neighbouring rocks and caves, and who were thus
having a hunt for their own pleasure at the expense
of the poor shepherd. This was not the first time that
they had come forth and teased and annoyed human
beings by their pranks and tricks. They had been seen
many a time by the old and young of the village as
they went to, or returned from, the yearly fair in the
neighbouring town, or when they took some little
journey into the surrounding country. On these occasions they often had to go through little green glades
in the forest, carpeted with fresh moss and encompassed
by ancient oaks. When in the midst of such a place a
single great tree stood with spreading branches, forming a leafy tower, it was sure to be a resort of the
Brownies, and they would come here in crowds when
the first rays of the full moon shone over the hills, to
have a dance and to feast. Old hunters, who, in pursuing a stag, had often been near these places late at
night, would tell of the tricks and dances of the little
people, and could not say enough of their grace and
wonderful agility. But such an unbidden spectator had
to lie perfectly quiet in some place of concealment, for




THE DWARFS' NEST.               57
if the sharp eyes and ears of the Dwarfs detected him,
they would stop their revels instantly and vanish
through the air, making a noise in their flight like that
of a swarm of bees hovering over a field of flowers.
Sometimes it happened, when an inquisitive observer incautiously approached too near the little
people, that while the Dwarfs were vanishing, he
was so cuffed and boxed on the ear by invisible
hands that he fell, stunned, to the ground, and
awoke the next morning with his face covered with
bruises all black and blue.
For a long time the Dwarfs conducted their revels
at a distance from the habitations of mankind. But,
as many of the forests had been thinned out and
most of the fine old trees cut down, they selected the
ruins for their haunt, for the nature of the place
offered no temptation to the greed of avaricious
men.  Here it was very difficult to see them  in
their nightly dances, for, since they had been driven
from their quiet forest-glades, they had grown more
prudent, and were seldom visible to human eyes when
they danced, and the example of mortals had taught
them to be more malicious, so that it rarely happened
that any one was able to watch them unobserved.
Thus faith in the existence of the little people had
grown somewhat dim, and even if some inquisitive
fellow showed his bruises in the morning and told of
his adventures with the Brownies, the villagers laughed
at him and declared that his face was bruised by the
cover of the beer-can.
But the shepherd's experience again drew attention
to the little men, and the owners of the sheep, who had




58            THE D WA RFS' NEST.
lost quite a number, decided that they must resign the
field to the Dwarfs, and leave them undisturbed in the
old ruin, their place of refuge. Accordingly the shepherd left his hut and took his flock elsewhere, and the
Dwarfs soon showed that they were not in the least
implacable, for, as soon as they were left to pursue
their midnight revels undisturbed by the bleating and
trampling of the sheep, they, by their magic arts,
caused the flock to thrive and increase, so that those
villagers who had suffered loss were soon amply indemnified.
In the meanwhile the shepherd's hut stood empty,
and, although it had never been in a very habitable
condition, it was now worse than ever. The windows
were broken, and the sun, moon, wind, and rain penetrated into both rooms. But the walls, which were
built of sods, were firmer than before, for the sods had
grown together, and there was such a thicket of weeds
and garden vegetables all around that from a distance
the place looked like a great, green bird's-nest, and, in
memory of the little people, the villagers called it
the "Dwarfs' Nest," and the neighbouring ruin the
"Dwarfs' Castle."
Thus the house had been standing for some years
empty, when the weaver, of whom you have heard
above, returned home after a long absence from the
place of his birth. As all his near relatives and friends
had died in the mean time, and his parents had become very poor before their death, the distant relatives
of the young man, who were still living, would have
nothing to do with him, and not one could be found
who would even rent him a small room, where he




THE D WARFS' NEST.              59
might set up his loom and support himself by the work
of his hands. They had another ground for their behaviour. The weaver's father, who had been a gamekeeper, had married a collier's daughter, who was
skilled in the knowledge of healing-herbs, and had,
therefore, been shunned and maligned by everybody
as a witch, although she had never done any harm to
any one.  This reputation her son shared, for the
women of the village had always regarded him, when
a boy, with envy, because, while their own children
were often sick and puny, the game-keeper's son,
little Conrad, rejoiced in robust health and strength,
and was the handsomest boy that could be imagined.
As his parents had fortunately lived long enough to
provide for him during his long apprenticeship to a
master-weaver in the town until he started on his
travels as a journeyman, he had needed nothing, and
had never been obliged to maintain himself.  But
scarcely had these good people received two or three
letters from him in his first absence after the wellspent period of his apprenticeship-letters that told
how content his present master was with him  and
his work-when they died, leaving their son nothing,
for their little furniture was seized by their avaricious
neighbours to defray the funeral expenses.
At last Conrad, having learned much of men and
manners in many parts of the country, returned, and
wished to set up his loom  in his native village.
But, as we have said before, no one would have
anything to do with him, and if that love which is
common to all for the place of one's birth had not
bound him to this village, and prevented him from




60           THE DWARF'S NEST.
leaving the place where his parents were buried, he
would have turned his back upon his home on the
first day of his arrival there and gone out anew into
the world. As it was, he went to every house in the
place seeking a lodging, and was sometimes turned
away and refused with harsh words and abuse. Some
of these people told him that there was only one place
fit for him-the Dwarfs' Nest, —the Dwarfs would
probably allow him to rent the Dwarfs' Nest if he
would offer sufficiently high payment for lodgings
there. Without heeding these insults, the weaver suddenly remembered the little hut in which he had often
played as a boy, and which, upon his entrance into the
village, he had recognized at the foot of the dungeonwall, with its green sides and roof, and he thought that
perhaps, after all, he could not do better than follow
the counsel that these hard-hearted people had maliciously given him.
He hastily turned his steps towards the hovel, and,
opening the mouldering door, which at first offered
some resistance to his efforts, he saw, to his great joy,
that, although the interior of the hut was somewhat
ruinous, it could easily be repaired at the cost of some
labour and pains. He immediately began to clear out
of it the leaves, dust, and decayed wood, and then
went to town and brought back some of his friends,
who were carpenters, glaziers, and slaters by trade,
and with their help the Dwarfs' Nest soon presented a
most comfortable appearance, and Conrad was delighted to set up his loom ready for work.
The evil-minded men in the village regarded these
proceedings and alterations with no small amazement,




THE DWARFS' NEST.               61
laughing in their sleeves and rejoicing at the same time
that poor Conrad would soon have to move away again
as soon as the Dwarfs discovered his presence. Although the weaver himself remembered the legends
which he had often heard in his boyhood concerning
the Dwarfs' Nest, yet he had travelled much since that
time, and as, in his wanderings, nothing strange or unaccountable had ever happened to him, he had gradually
lost all faith in such stories, and thought of everything
else during his first night in his little dwelling rather
than Dwarfs, who could come and disturb him there.
It was a very clear night, with a full moon shining,
but his thoughts would not allow him to sleep much.
He heard the church-clock in the village strike hour
after hour, and at last twelve strokes announced that
midnight had arrived. And now he seriously determined to go to sleep, turned on his side, and was just
shutting his eyes when he heard a faint hemming and
coughing in the room. He opened his eyes wide, and
who shall describe his astonishment when he saw beside him a little man, scarcely a span high, dressed in
a leather-coloured doublet, breeches, black stockings,
and shoes fastened with silver buckles so enormous, in
comparison with the rest of his figure, that one could
hardly understand how the little fellow could walk with
them!
At first the weaver thought he must be dreaming, and
rubbed his eyes to awaken himself. However, upon collecting his thoughts he became convinced that he was
thoroughly awake. In the mean time the little man
walked up and down the room, looked at the new
wooden furniture, and jumping with one leap upon the
6




02           THE DWARFS' NEST.
window-seat, tapped the new, clear window panes with
a little stick that he carried in his hand, and smiled in
a satisfied manner. The cleanliness of the floor also,
and the fresh white walls, seemed to please him, for he
nodded his little head, and gave expression to his satis.
faction by a kind of murmuring noise. The weaver,
regarding all this with astonishment, sat up in bed,
and tried to inform the little man of his presence
by coughing and clearing his throat. But the little
fellow at first took no notice of him, except to wave his
hand towards him, as if to say, "In a moment, in a
moment," and then pursued his investigations. At
last, however, he appeared to have finished his examination of the room, and with one jump he sprang upon
the table by the side of the weaver's bed, and seated
himself comfortably upon a big piece of bread, from
which he now and then broke off a crumb and put
it into his mouth. And then, after Dwarf and man
had regarded each other curiously for a few moments,
the former said in a shrill, squeaking voice, while he
gave another glance around the room, "We are glad,
my friend, to have procured a tenant who has put
everything into such good order, and if you will only
fulfil to our satisfaction the conditions, which we, as
owners of this house, impose upon you, I hope we shall
always live happily together." The weaver, who had
never expected to pay any rent for the ruinous old
Dwarfs' Nest, pricked up his ears, and taking great care
not to offend one of these dreaded beings, askec
modestly what the conditions were of which his new
landlord spoke. The Dwarf in a few words told him
the story of the shepherd, whose stupid flock had an



"With one jump he sprang upon the table, and seated himself comfortably upon a big piece of bread."
Page 62.








THIE DWARFS' NEST.              63
noyed and worried his people beyond description, and
added, that the little men had driven the shepherd
from the Dwarfs' Nest, not from any dislike to the
human race, but that they might have some peace in
their place of assemblage. Conrad, encouraged by the
friendly address and good-humoured smile of the little
man, recovered from his first amazement, and replied
that he was delighted indeed to make such a distinguished acquaintance so entirely unexpectedly, and
that he only hoped that the rent of his new dwelling
would be such as he could pay, for, to tell the truth,
silver or gold he had none. The Dwarf broke off a
large piece of bread for himself, and replied with a
smile, "The worthless articles that you mention can be
of no manner of use to us. We possess jewels and gold
in such overflowing measure that I suppose you would
consider us a wealthy people. But we need many
things that we can only obtain through the assistance
of kind-hearted, industrious men. We have watched
you from your childhood, and have seen with pleasure
that you have preserved your heart free from guile and
deceit, and this is an additional reason why we have
not opposed your taking possession of the house. We
Dwarfs know how to prize mortal excellence, and we
seek the society of men who are pious, honest, and
industrious, rather than of those (of whom, by the way,
the shepherd was one) who are in every way the reverse. Continue, then, to be as industrious as heretofore, labour quietly to maintain yourself, and our aid
and counsel shall not be wanting. But now listen to the
conditions of which I spoke, and which are, that every
month when the moon is at the full you shall give us




64           THE DWARFS' NEST.
entire possession of your house and furniture, and even
of your loom. Do not intrude upon us at such times,
but shut yourself up in your room, and we will take
care that so deep a slumber shall overcome you as shall
prevent you from hearing the noise of our work."
At the last words the countenance of the Dwarf grew
very grave, and he concluded his address by saying,
" Remember not to be so silly as to try and observe us
at work, and remember too, that only as long as your
heart is free from the common vices of mortals are we
able to send sleep to you. It is not in our power to
banish the thoughts of evil deeds or to free you from
the stings of a guilty conscience."
The weaver listened to all this quietly, and rejoiced
to find that the rent was one he could so easily pay; he
cordially shook hands with the Dwarf, promising to do
all in his power to ensure the little people from disturbance during their occupations.
The agreement thus concluded, the little fellow
jumped down from the bed, gave the young man a
friendly smile, and disappeared. The weaver then laid
down and slept until morning. The next day he took
his first journey to town to procure work, and it seemed
as though already the Dwarfs were assisting him, for
the first merchant to whom he applied gave him an
encouraging reception; and after the foreman of the
establishment had proved him and found that the young
man really understood weaving, his name was written
in a big book, and a quantity of silk and wool was
given to him that he might weave it into a fine piece
of cloth. Arrived at home, the weaver went diligently
to work, and never had he been able to accomplish so




THE DWARFS' NEST.                65
much; his progress astonished even himself. The little
accidents which will happen, even to those most skilled
in weaving, occurred only very seldom; his threads
rarely broke, and never became tangled. When he sat
down at his wheel to wind his spools, he was amazed
to see them whirl around as swift as lightning, and yet
the wool and silk lay as evenly upon them as though
they were wound slowly and with the greatest care.
When the moon appeared in the heavens like a sickle,
and began to increase, he knew that the night was approaching when his rent was to be paid by his leaving
his house to the Dwarfs, and then he took good care to
arrange matters so that his work was finished for the
merchant in the town, and he exerted himself to put
his loom into good order that the little men might
nave no reason to complain of him.
On the nights when the moon was full he would sit
at his window in the twilight and look out upon the
landscape where the blue mists rose slowly, listening to
the song of the crickets in the grass, and enjoying the
lovely view, until the heavens around the Dwarfs' Nest
grew brighter and the full moon appeared. Then he
would betake himself to his bed, and, as he was troubled
by no evil thoughts, he would soon fall asleep. Sometimes he thought that just before sleep overcame him he
could hear a strange noise and humming, but as he was
not inquisitive by nature he did not trouble himself
about it, but was soon sound asleep. When he arose
in the morning after such a night, and went to his loom,
he could always see that the Dwarfs had been at work
there, for here and there between the bands and the
6*
E




66            THE DWARFS' NEST.
wheels a little piece of silk of an odd colour would be
found sticking, and two or three threads of gold would
be lying about the floor; and once on the weaver's beam,
upon which the completed cloth is wound, he found a
narrow strip of stuff, which the Dwarfs had left there
when they cut the piece out of the loom, of such a
strange colour and design that he had never seen anything like it before. He took it off, and the next time
he went to town he begged the merchant's foreman to
give him silk of the same colours, and going home, set
himself to work to imitate the Dwarfs' design. If he
did not quite succeed, at all events he completed such a
beautiful piece of stuff that the merchant had never
seen anything like it before, and paid him a heavy
price for it.
After this work, every one connected with the manufactory paid some attention to the young man, and
the master manufacturers, who had hitherto only regarded him as a diligent workman, but nothing more,
tried to discover whether the beautiful design of his
work were really his own,-that, if so, they might profit
by his talent. And thus the poor weaver, who had, as
we have said, never been even appreciated, much less
esteemed, was very much flattered by the attention of
the foreman and young clerks of the establishment.
They invited him to join their evening parties, and if
at first he did not feel entirely at home in these circles
where a great deal of beer and wine was drunk, and
where the conversation was not always what it should
be, and if his coarse coat contrasted rather strongly
with the costume of these youths, who were starched
and ironed and laced and curled, yet the fumes of the




THE DWARFS' NEST.                67
wine, and the well-known skill of the weaver, levelled
all differences of rank.
Hitherto Conrad had been able to live very well
upon his earnings without working very hard, but, as
his money went with incredible rapidity at these
nightly carousals, he was forced to work several hours
earlier and later that his earnings might be sufficiently
increased to defray the expenses of his evening entertainments.
Sometimes, when he was returning home late at
night, he could not help thinking that his present
life was not leading him in the right way, and, as he
passed through the old ruins on his way to his dwelling, he now and then thought that he could distinguish the figure of his little landlord sitting upon a
stone and shaking his head sadly at him, but he easily
convinced himself that he was mistaken, and refused
to admit that the Dwarfs had any reason for being dissatisfied with him, for, as often as the moon was at the
full, he left his loom in perfect order, and had never
dared to pass the night away from home, more especially perhaps as he was always extremely anxious to
cut from the beam the narrow strip of stuff that the
Dwarfs now regularly left for him, and from which he
copied those beautiful designs that called forth the admiration of his employers. But once it happened
either that his almanac was wrong or that he thought
the Dwarfs could get on very well without him, for
he cut his piece of stuff out of the loom and carried it
the same night to town, where it was received, and his
companions would not allow him to depart until the
moon w<a high in the heavens.




648          7'E DWARFS' NEST.
As lie walked home he thought, with anxiety, that
he had neglected his landlord's comfort, for he had
not left his loom in good order, and he had not remained quietly at home; but, although the idea occurred to him that he might walk on quickly and peep
at the little people at work, he stood too much in awe
of the little beings, and of his own promise, to do so.
He was not yet so spoiled as to forget his honour
entirely.  As it happened to be summer-time, he
spent the rest of the mild night under an old pine
tree, where he stretched himself out upon the moss
and slept soundly.
When he arose the next morning, he walked towards
his dwelling with hurried steps and a beating heart, for
he feared that the Dwarfs might have revenged themselves upon him in some way for his neglect. But this
was not the case; he opened the door of his house and
listened for some unusual sound, but all was quiet and
in order,-the wooden clock above his bed was ticking
peacefully, and the thrush that hung in a cage at the
window was singing a merry song in honour of the
rising sun. He hurried to his loom, and here he
found nothing unusual. As before, the little ends of
silk and gold thread that the Dwarfs had used were
lying around, only he found the design of the piece of
stuff left still upon the beam very strangely altered.
Hitherto the colours had harmonized so prettily, and
had formed so graceful a pattern, that it suggested to
the mind some sweet and lovely melody, but to-day
there was something weird and strange about both
the colours and the design of the pattern left by the
little men. There was an odd combination of red




THE DWAR FS' N EST.             69
and black, with here and there fine sparkling threads
of silver that flashed zigzag, like lightning, and, as
Conrad looked at it, he felt more keenly than ever
that he had not treated his little landlords well; that
he was leading a life that was far from good for him,
and neglecting the advice which the Dwarfs had given
him.
But, alas! the evil example of the young people in
the town had already done him so much harm that he
did not heed the still, small voice of his conscience, and
busied himself with copying the new piece of stuff,
the strange design of which was more in keeping than
the former ones with his present reckless state of mind.
The new piece of work also pleased the foreman and
gentlemen in town extremely well, for their minds
were more false and frivolous than the weaver's. The
foreman was a sly, cunning fellow, who had long been
much puzzled to understand how so simple-minded a
man as the weaver could design and execute all these
beautiful patterns. Of course he never dreamed that
Conrad copied Dwarfs' work, but he thought that the
weaver had brought home from his travels a quantity
of beautiful patterns which he thus imitated one by one
in order that they might bring him in the largest possible amount of money. He had already, when with
Conrad over the wine-cup, led the conversation to the
beautiful designs, but the weaver's natural caution had
stood him in good stead, and he had, as yet, betrayed
nothing. Nevertheless the foreman did not cease to
ply him with sly questions, and at last by his wiles induced the poor fellow to impart his whole secret to
him, and even to bring him a sample of the Dwarfs




70           THE DWARFS' NEST.
manufacture, at the sight of which every one skilled in
such matters held up his hands in amazement.
The only thing that Conrad did not tell was the time
and the place where the Dwarfs pursued their labours.
He feared that if he revealed this the little people
might be watched and thus chased away, leaving him
with no resources for earning a livelihood. His mode
of life had so altered him that he no longer worked
carefully or diligently, and it was only from  the
Dwarfs' work that he derived any profit. Even his
poor imitations of their wonderful designs were so much
liked by the merchants that they were sure to bring
a high price. The foreman told several of his friends
of the source whence the weaver obtained his patterns, and they in their turn told others, whereupon
Conrad's reputation became so doubtful that his former
friends were, or thought themselves obliged, to drop all
association with him. But he had now grown so accustomed to jovial society that he sought out other wild
companions, with whom he caroused through whole
nights; and although, at first, he had been contented
with wine, he now hardly ever returned home without
being intoxicated by deep draughts of brandy.
All that the Dwarf had told him so seriously at the
conclusion of their interview, that the little people
would prove his friends and protectors only so long as
his heart was free from the guile and vices that beset
humanity, and that their labour in his house would assisthim only whilst his conscience allowed him to sleep
peacefully, was now shown to be true. He had already
turned and tossed upon his bed for many a night when
the full moon shone, waking now and then to hear a




TIHE DWARFS' NEST.              t7
faint murmuring in his room,-a bewildering sound
that so confused him that he never at such times regained full possession of his faculties, but fell again into
an uneasy sleep. As his manner of life did not improve, but became more extravagant and dissipated
every day, these wakeful periods grew longer, until he
sometimes tossed upon his bed for hours, while the
Dwarfs were at work in the next room.
Hitherto he had always respected their prohibition,
and had never pried, either with eyes or ears, into
their doings, but he thought less and less of their
warnings. And although at first he resisted the temptation to watch them, at last, one night when the moon
was full, he sat up in his bed and listened attentively.
He distinctly heard the whirr of the loom, the shuttle
flying with lightning rapidity, and the wheels rolling noisily, as though turned by a whirlwind. He
arose, and his hand was upon the latch of the door
separating his sleeping-room from his work-room, when
better thoughts conquered; he tore himself away from
the spot, and threw himself once more upon his bed.
The next morning he hurried to his loom, but the
little piece of cloth that the Dwarfs had always left for
him was nowhere to be seen; and the loom, too, was
not in the order in which it had always heretofore been
left. The bands and wheels were in confusion, and
the weaver saw plainly that he must resign all hope of
the continuance of the protection that the Dwarfs had
hitherto afforded him. And in town he was very
coldly received when he presented himself with empty
hands, not even bringing a new design, as had been
his custom, and as the Dwarfs' assistance had hitherto




72           THE DWARFS' NEST.
enabled him to do every month. He was even received
with harsh reproaches, and told that his employers were
neither satisfied with his work nor with his present
mode of life.  Still the foreman, as an especial favour, he said, gave him once more a quantity of silk,
and told him that if he did not this time finish a good
and careful piece of work, he would have no more
employment from the factory.  Conrad went home
thinking of many things and possessed by most uncomfortable feelings as he remembered the old times
when he had led a life so different from his present
one.  And yet he was deterred from  entering the
tavern as usual, not by these thoughts, but by the fact
that, after a long search, he could not find a single
coin in his pockets, and did not dare to ask for further
credit. So he went home and put his loom in order,
and took pains in putting the silk into it that he might
complete a fine piece of work. He succeeded, after
a great deal of labour in these preparations, but he
was not animated by an honest desire to be industrious,
but rather by greed of gain, that he might pursue his
ruinous courses.
Thus the month slipped by. His work was finished
rather late in the evening upon which the Dwarfs
always paid their visit, and he thought it well done.
As he was examining it and thinking of the small sum
of money that he should receive for so much toil,
an idea occurred to him, which at first, it is true, he
rejected, but which soon took possession of him. He
thought, for the first time in his life, that he might
deceive his employer by cutting off a few yards of the
cloth he had just woven, and selling it for his own




THE D WARFS  NEST.                73
profit. It would bring him in quite as much as his
poor wages. At first his better nature refused to listen
to such a wicked plan. But he soon found that he who
admits an evil thought into his mind will soon be mastered by it. In short, after a struggle with himself, he
took up his scissors and cut off a piece from his work.
As it was too late in the day to carry the rest home,
he rolled it up hastily and threw himself upon his bed,
with a beating heart, and tried to sleep. But this was
impossible, for he heard hour after hour strike without
being able to close his eyes. And soon it grew brighter
and brighter, and the moon arose. At the same time
there was such a humming and buzzing in the air
around the Dwarfs' Nest that it seemed as though a
swarm of bees were at work, and he heard it all much
more clearly than ever before. The little people went
right to work at the loom, and, as the wheels flew
around, a strange melody resounded through the house,
monotonous, but so sweet that it closed the listener's
heavy eyelids. But then the theft that he had committed came into his mind, and his heart beat so that
it was impossible to sleep.
Thus he lay wide awake for about an hour, tossing
restlessly in bed. And again the desire beset him to
disobey, to transgress the injunctions of his landlord,
and watch the doings of the Dwarfs. He fought against
it for a long time-now getting up and then lying down
again-now stopping his ears that he might hear nothing and then listening more attentively than ever.
It seemed to him as though invisible powers were contending for mastery over him. At last he arose and
stood before the door ready to open it and surprise
7




74           THE DWARFS' NEST.
the Dwarfs at their work. Even now he attempted to
resist the temptation, but it was too strong for him.
He gave a slight push to the door and it flew open; but,
instead of seeing anything, the weaver suddenly received
a tremendous blow and fell senseless upon the floor.
When he came to himself he rubbed his eyes, and
at first could not remember what had happened to him.
He stared about and found that he was indeed in
his hut, but its walls were no longer whole and clean
as before. Here and there were great cracks through
which the morning wind was blowing and playing with
the nettles and dry leaves that were heaped upon the
dust-covered floor. Conrad, whose head was still confused, arose slowly, and could hardly remember what
he had been doing or thinking the evening before.
Beside him lay the pieces of the shattered loom, and
before him his folded work. Only when he saw the
piece that he had cut off from it did he clearly remember all that had occurred, and thought with horror of what he had done. For the first time he felt
remorse for his evil ways. He determined to begin a
different life, and took the piece of stuff and the piece
which he had cut off, resolved to carry both to his
employer and confess his fault and promise to begin
anew.  Refreshed by these good intentions, he left
the Dwarfs' Nest, now in ruins, determined not to
return thither, for he unjustly ascribed his present
trials to the agency of the little men. As he stepped
out into the clear morning air, a dark spell seemed to
be removed from him, and he was truly ashamed of
the life he had been leading. He turned his steps to
the long unvisited grave of his parents, and, after re



THE DWARFS' NEST.              75
newing there his vows of amendment, he went on
towards town with fresh courage.
He had almost reached it when he sat down by the
roadside and opened his parcel that he might fold the
piece of silk afresh. But who can describe his terror
when, upon opening the paper, he found the silk gone
and its place filled with dirt and dust? In despair he
struck his forehead with his clenched fist and rolled
over and over on the grass. He heaped the Dwarfs
with reproaches, for he considered them the sole cause
of his misfortunes.  He started up, then flung himself upon the ground again, and then rushed about
for hours among the rocks and forests, repeatedly
examining the parcel in his hand, but in vain, the
dust did not turn to silk. And then he proclaimed
aloud his misery and ruin.  Sometimes he thought
he heard around him hoarse laughter, which increased
his rage, for, however swiftly he might dart to the
spot whence the noise proceeded, he found nothing.
While he was in this state of despair, evening came
on, and he flung himself exhausted at the foot of
some jagged rocks. Here he wept aloud and bemoaned his fate as the unhappiest of men, from whom
all means of improvement had been snatched at the
very moment when he meant to begin a new life. But
he soon gathered a sort of comfort from despair and
cried out: " Well, then, God knows that I wished to
improve and change my manner of life, but He has
rejected the repentant sinner and deprived him of
everything that could help him in the way of improvement. Now I don't care what happens to me, and
any one who wants me may have me."




76           THE DWARFS' NEST.
Scarcely had he spoken these words when he heard
a noise above his head, and looking up he saw a
strange little figure sitting upon a ledge of rocks. At
first he thought it was his landlord, and was about to
start up and run away. But closer inspection told
him that the little creature before him was very different from his former friend. He was two feet high,
and had a big, misshapen head, and a sly, malicious
face, from which small, red eyes looked out wickedly. His dress consisted of a black leather coat and
breeches of the same. Large riding-boots covered his
feet and legs, but he had taken off one of these boots
and held it on his lap stroking and rubbing it. The
little man cleared his throat, and said to the weaver,
who was anxiously listening, "Yes, yes, my dear
fellow, if you really mean what you have just said, that
any one may have you who wants you, I assure you
that you can find no better master than myself. Will
you enter my service?"
The weaver, who was really shocked to find how
wicked his words had been, was about to run off,
but at the first step his whole helpless condition and
weight of misfortunes came into his mind, and he
thought within himself, " I may, at least, hear what the
little fellow has to say," and so he turned round again
and asked, " What do you want with me?
The little man turned and twisted the boot in his lap,
and then replied, grinning, "My dear friend, I read
in your thoughts that you think me, in fact, the Evil
One himself, but really you do me too much honour.
I am a much more insignificant personage, and belong
to that race to which you mortals give tne name of




THE DWARFS' NEST               77
Kobolds. I have not the slightest desire for your soul,
for I should not know what in the world to do with
such a thing; but you can do me a great service this
very night if you will, and besides the gold which you
will thus gain, you may revenge yourself upon your
enemies who are mine also, -upon those miserable
little wretches, I mean, who have ruined you entirely
with their nonsensical conditions."
When the weaver found that nothing threatened the
welfare of his soul, the prospect of working some harm
to the Dwarfs, whom he persisted in thinking had
treated him unkindly, was very attractive, and he
declared himself ready to serve the Kobold. The
creature, with a grin, drew on his boot, then took out
of his pocket a little flask, from which the weaver took
a hearty draught, and then the Kobold commanded
Conrad to go to a neighbouring pond and bring thence
two long reeds. The weaver obeyed, while the Kobold
took off his other boot and began to rub and stroke it
as he had done to its fellow. Down by the pond Conrad cut two huge reeds, with flowering tops, and carried
them to the Kobold, who seemed well satisfied with
them, and immediately drew on his boot again.
"Hearken," said he, "although you are only my
servant, and there is no need that I should tell you why
I do this or that, yet I will tell you in a few words
what I intend to do for you. " Here the Kobold rubbed
his hands, and grinned significantly, as he continued:
"The Dwarfs, to whom you gave up your dwelling
every night of the full moon, have always been at war
with the ancient and honourable race of Kobolds. The
garments and stuffs that they wove in your loom were
7*




78           THE DWARFS' NEST
destined for wedding-clothes for a pair who are to be
married to-night, and whose festivities I propose to in.
terrupt. If you had not disturbed the little men at their
weaving yesterday evening they would have completed
their work, and I should have had no power over them.
But now I can go to them and steal away the fair bride
whom I have long loved."
If, upon hearing this, the weaver at first thought that
he had treated his old landlord very-unkindly, his mind
instantly recurred to his own misfortunes, and he felt
glad that revenge was within his reach. The Kobold
got up, and commanded the weaver to pick up the two
reeds from the ground. Then he put one between his
legs, and told his servant to do the same, after which
he chirruped and moved his legs like a horseman who
wishes to urge on a lazy steed. Who can describe
Conrad's astonishment when he found that the reed
between his legs increased in length and breadth until
it became a full-grown horse, which, with the Kobold's,
rushed away over field and hedge. But, alas! he had
not taken sufficient care in mounting, and held the
flowering top in his hand, so that, consequently, he now
found himself sitting backwards on his steed, holding,
instead of the bridle, the tail, to which he clung tightly,
to the Kobold's infinite amusement.
Thus they rode on in the night through thick forests, over desert heaths, down steep abysses, and
through foaming torrents, and nothing surprised the
weaver more than that he did not fall off his horse.
Indeed, he felt no jolting as with an ordinary horse,
for the magic steed that he bestrode seemed to glide
over the ground without moving his feet.  At last




THE DWARFS' NEST.               79
they appeared to have reached the place of their
destination. They arrived in a valley full of strangelyshaped rocks, where the Kobold suddenly stopped his
horse and scrambled down to the ground. The animal
instantly shrunk all up and became a reed as before.
The weaver, who was a little giddy with all the wonders that he had seen, felt himself suddenly bumped
down upon the ground, and when he looked round
after his horse it had vanished, and he saw only a bent
reed lying at his feet.  "We are on the spot," said
the Kobold, "and, if you conduct yourself well, in
a short time the charming little bride will be mine,
and your reward shall be great, only follow my directions exactly. Take hold of my belt and do not
let go until we are again in the open air with the
pretty sprite. But, above all, remember not to speak
a single word, whatever may happen."  The weaver
promised to fulfil these easy directions, and seized the
girdle of the Kobold, who immediately went to one
of the huge masses of rock and slipped easily through
a crack in it. Conrad hesitated a little here, for it
seemed impossible to him that he, with his great body,
could get through such a narrow crack. But he was
ashamed to linger behind, and so gave a little push
and instantly he was with his master within the rock.
He could not help feeling his body carefully, for he was
convinced that the slipping through must have made
him as thin as cardboard. But this was not so. He
found himself with his master in a large marble hall,
magnificently hung with thousands of lights. A crowd
of Dwarfs, about the size of his landlord and ver}
much like him, were busily running hither and thither,




80           THE DWAR FS' NEST.
carrying in their hands gold and silver dishes, whence
streamed an odour so savoury that the poor weaver,
who had not tasted a morsel since morning, was devoured by hunger. Dread overcame him at first, for,
although he knew that both his master and himself
were invisible to these little beings, he could not help
thinking that they must notice him when his master
led him directly through their midst, and so he shut
his eyes as the ostrich does when it hopes to escape
the observation of its enemies. Suddenly lovely music
greeted his ears, and such brilliant rays of light pierced
his shut eyelids that he could not help opening his
eyes wide to look around him. Then he saw that
he was in the midst of the wedding assemblage of the
Dwarfs, who were seated in long rows at a table,
feasting and merry-making. On a raised platform at
the end of the hall sat the musicians, making such
delicious and heart-touching music that the weaver
thought he had never heard anything half so fine.
Although the hall was very lofty for the Dwarfs, he had
to stoop in it, and when he crouched in a corner, his
head reached far over the little people's table, at the
upper end of which sat the bride and bridegroom.
But what were Conrad's sensations when, in the bridegroom, he recognized his landlord, and saw that he, as
well as the other Dwarfs, was dressed in cloth spun
upon his loom!
The bridegroom looked extremely happy, and paid
every attention to his bride, who was such a lovely,
charming little creature that the weaver repented from
his heart his promise to steal her away for his new
master. The Kobold had clambered up to the ceiling




THE DWARFS' NEST.               81
and clung there to the weaver's head just over a chandelier. He put his lips to the weaver's ear and said,
with a grin, "You see that the moment is favourable. Stretch out your hand slowly, seize the little
bride in a firm grasp, and place her here beside me,
that she may be invisible to the rest, and in the bustle
that ensues we will slip away unobserved. Do you
hear? Stretch out your hand instantly." But Conrad
was suddenly overcome with remorse, and thought
how wrong it was to revenge himself thus upon his
landlord, who had never done him any injury until he,
by his neglect and dissipation, had deeply offended
him. He tried to state the case respectfully to the
Kobold, but the little creature, clinging fast to his ear,
buzzed like a wasp, and would not let him speak a
word, saying, "Hush! you must not flinch-you are
my servant. Stretch out your hand, I say, and seize
the little thing, or I will leave you, and woe betide
you if the Dwarfs see you."
Terrified at this threat, Conrad stretched out his
hand, but his better feeling conquered, and he drew it
back again empty. "What are you doing?" buzzed
the Kobold in his ear. "Oh, sir," replied the weaver,
" something tickled my nose, and I was afraid I should
sneeze."  "Hm-hm   attend!" said the little fellow; "don't speak, but attend to your business."
Again the weaver stretched out his hand, and was just
about to seize the poor little bride, when his arm
twitched so that he once more drew back his hand
empty. Then the Kobold gave his ear a little bite, and
grumbled so angrily that it seemed to the weaver as if a
swarm of hornets were flying about his head. "'You
F




82           THE DWARFS' NEST.
fool! what do you mean? Why don't you pick up the
bride?"  "Forgive me, sir," replied Conrad, "the
steam from the meats is so hot, that the perspiration is
rolling in drops down my face, and if I had not wiped
it away it would have fallen upon the table and betrayed us." This, at least, was no falsehood, only it
was his struggle with himself, and not the steam from
the meats that made the drops stand upon his brow.
The weaver now put out his hand for the third
time, and the struggle within him between good and
evil was so great that his fingers closed and unclosed
convulsively. He would have had the bride in his
hand in one moment more if, just at this instant, the
bridegroom had not handed her a nosegay, which she
took with a smile, and pressed to her breast and lips.
In Conrad's anguish he tried to find a means to delay
the fatal grasp, but in vain; the little creature was all
but in his hand, when affected by the strong perfume
of the flowers, she sneezed violently, and the weaver,
forgetting, in his confusion, the Kobold's injunctions,
cried out aloud, "God bless you!"
Instantly the rocks resounded with a crash like thunder,-it lightened, and the Dwarfs and the table grew
indistinct and vanished, while the Kobold growled,
angrily, "Is this the way you keep your promise,
you vile, mortal vagabond?" And then he trod with
his clumsy boot so heavily upon the weaver's neck
that the poor fellow fell senseless on the ground, and
lay there for some time. When he came to himself
his limbs felt as though they had been beaten, and
it was long before he could remember what had happened. He rubbed his eyes, and was just rising, that




THE DWARFS' NEST.              8
he might creep slowly away, when, to his astonishment
and terror, he saw standing beside him his landlord,
who thus addressed him: "Do not be afraid,-I am
not going to do you any further injury. The punishment
that we inflicted upon you was perfectly just, for you
remember how you violated the conditions of our agreement, and what a wicked, dissipated fellow you have
been for some time past. But let all be forgiven and
forgotten. As you, last night, did me and my dear
wife a great service, I will help you to become once
more a happy, honest man. To give you gold and
silver would do you no good, for I know well that
money seldom brings content to human beings, but is,
on the contrary, often the cause of manifold ills and
trials to them. But go home to your hut and begin to
work as before. We do not need your aid any longer,
and therefore shall not again test your curiosity.  I
hope you will prove honest and true, and not fall into
your late miserable ways again. If I give you no visible
proof of my gratitude, you will soon be convinced that
we mean to assist you with invisible advice and aid."
The Dwarf then vanished, and as the weaver looked
around him he saw by the light of the first rays of the
sun, which shone over the mountains, that he was just
in the vicinity of the Dwarfs' Nest. He hastened to
his dwelling, and, remembering the desolation and confusion that he had left there the day before, he was
greatly surprised to see nothing of it to-day. The door
was closed, but he heard the clock ticking, and the thrush
singing within. And everything was in the most beauful order, his loom thoroughly repaired, and the stuff
from which he had cut the piece lying by it wrapped up




84            THE DWARFS' NEST.
entire. And he also observed, to his delight, that it was
the most beautiful piece of work that he had ever seen.
He carried it to the town, but the scene of his former
dissipation was so hateful to him that he left it in a
great hurry, as soon as his business there was concluded;
and although he soon won for himself, by his beautiful
work, the confidence and esteem of his employers, he
took good care not to frequent bad society, but continued to labour diligently and unweariedly, soon perceiving plainly that the Dwarfs gave him much invisible
aid, so that he grew to be a wealthy man. After
awhile he built for himself a fine, large house, but
never tore down the Dwarfs' Nest, which remained
standing for many years, until, with the faith in Dwarfs
and Fairies, it also crumbled and sank into decay.




THE PRINCESS MORGANA.
MANY, many years ago there reigned over Bagdad
the Caliph Haroun al Raschid, one of the wealthiest,
wisest, and most powerful princes that ever sat upon
the throne. He was honoured and loved indeed, not
only by those of his subjects who were rich and great,
but also by the meanest among them. And, besides,
the Prophet had deigned to grant him wise and just
men for his servants. His Grand Vizier, Abdallah,
to whose hands the whole administration of affairs
throughout the realm might have been safely entrusted,
was such a man as is rarely to be found, just, true, and
economical, who knew well how to increase his master's
wealth, steadily but always honestly. Therefore the
Caliph loved him like a brother, and could not pass
an hour without his faithful Abdallah. They always
worked together,-together they played chess, of which
game they were both masters, and whenever the Caliph went out hunting, the Vizier was obliged to accompany him.
Now it was the wise custom of the Caliph to wander
in disguise through the streets and bazaars of Bagdad,
that he might thus inform himself concerning much
which would else have been concealed from him. In
these walks he often heard complaints made by his
8             (85)




86         THE PRINCESS MORGANA.
subjects, and he investigated them closely,-always, if
they were well founded, removing their cause. He
often attended the sessions of the courts, to see
whether the judges administered justice faithfully,
without respect of persons. But it was chiefly in the
silence of night that he wandered through the streets,
accompanied by his Vizier, Abdallah; and not unfrequently, at these times, he prevented thefts and mischief of various kinds, for he visited the most distant
and impoverished quarters of the town, partly to prevent all such mischief, and partly to seek out the
poorest of his people in their miserable hovels, and
assist them with money or good advice.
Thus, one evening he, with his Grand Vizier, left his
palace and wandered along the banks of the Tigris, enjoying the beauty of the starlit night. The Caliph was
in good spirits, and very merry, and was talking with
his companion of the various destinies of mankind,how some were fortunate and others the reverse, and
how every heart was daily filled with new hopes and
aspirations of which so many were never to be realized.
" Yes," replied Abdallah, the Vizier, " if one could
only read in some great mirror the various wishes and
thoughts of the thousands of men who toss restlessly
upon their couches around us, conscious that their
hopes can never be fulfilled, what a subject for contemplation we should have!"
Conversing thus the two men came to one of the
poorest quarters of the city, and entered a little,
crooked street, which twisted and turned here and
there, and whose course the Caliph and the Vizier followed until they found themselves in a part of the city




THE PRINCESS MORGANA.              87
which was entirely unknown to them. Suddenly the
Caliph stood still, for he heard issuing from a little side
court the lamentable shrieks of a man who was apparently undergoing a beating, or some kind of ill treatment. The Vizier, too, heard the cries, and although
such a circumstance was not very unusual, there was
something so strange in the steady continuance of the
screams, that the two listeners with one accord walked
towards the spot whence the noise proceeded. Passing
through a very narrow and dirty little street, that led
through a half-ruined arched gateway, they came to a
little square that looked very gloomy and deserted.
The houses which surrounded it were, for the most
part, ruinous, and had neither doors nor windows.
You could look directly into the interior of most of
them, and see the grass growing a foot high in the
halls and apartments which had once been the homes
of human beings. The roofs, too, of most of these
tenements had fallen in, and large trees, sycamores,
plantains, or palms looked out over the bare walls,
giving sorrowful token that these houses had been
empty for two or three generations.
Only from one single house in the whole square did
a feeble ray of light, penetrating through a broken
window-shutter, show that some one was within. But
with the friendly beam of light there also issued those
cries of pain which had drawn hither the Caliph and
his attendant. Although this building was also ruinous, like all the rest in the square, it must once have
presented a much finer appearance than its neighbours,
for it was built of stone, and over the doorway was inscribed a sentence of the Koran, a decoration only




88         THE PRINCESS MORGANA.
used by people of means and rank. But even here the
tooth of time had attacked and partly destroyed the
walls. The stone upon which the sentence was inscribed was so defaced that the words were illegible,
and the doors and shutters scarcely hung upon their
hinges.
From time to time shrieks of agony were heard from
within, and the two men now approached to listen to
the words that accompanied them.
"Ah!" cried a voice, "give me something to eat
and drink. I am dying of hunger and thirst. Am I
not already worn to a skeleton? How can I pass four
days and four nights without food or drink? I shall
die. Oh I oh! and have I not learned to endure my
hundred blows daily?  So do give me something to
drink, at least."
The voice which uttered these strange words seemed
to be that of a young man, but it sounded so weary and
weak that it was easy to believe that he had really
suffered the ill treatment of which he spoke and which
had so reduced him. Then was heard another voice,
that seemed to come from the lips of an older man,
but it was not faint nor weary, as was the first. "Ah,
sir, if you would only listen to reason, and consent to
live like other mortals. Of what use are the tortures
to which you subject yourself? By the beard of the
Prophet, I am sorry enough to say so, but it is the duty
of an old servant, like myself, and I repeat, therefore,
for the thousandth time, that your actions are those of
a crazy man, and that if you do not cease tormenting
yourself thus, you will end your days in the madhouse. Eat and drink, and mingle again with your




THE PRINCESS,MORGANA.             89
fellow-men.  Of what use are these dreams of yours
to you?"
"Ha! ha!" laughed the first in his hoarsest, weakest
voice, gnashing his teeth so that the listeners outside
heard it, "this is the way you serve me, you faithful
servant! May Eblis fly away with your food and
drink! I will starve! yes, and I will be beaten as much
as I choose!"
"Just as you please," replied the other; "if you
will starve to death, then, refuse all meat and drink.
The Prophet knows that it is not my fault. But this I
tell you, say what you will, I will not again lift a stick
to beat you."
"Oh! oh!" whined the first, "faithless, dishonest
knave! Did you not promise my father, on his deathbed, with his hands in yours, to cling to me and never
to forsake me? and do you not know for whom I suffer
all these woes? Now you would have me endure them
all in vain.  Is your promise forgotten?  I will be
beaten, and I will starve! There, take the stick, I
will bear the blows patiently."
The Caliph and his Vizier, standing before the door,
did not know what to make of this strange conversa.
tion,-each looked at the other with amazement, and
Abdallah pushed up his turban and tweaked his nose,
to convince himself that he was not dreaming this
strange story. The Caliph took his companion's hand
and motioned him to be silent, for the old man's
voice was heard again, within, saying in piteous tones,
"' O Allah! Allah! would that I had died with your
father! But the Prophet knows my heart. He knows
that I am not to blame for this madness."
8*




90         THE PRINCESS MORGANA.
All was then quiet for awhile, until shrieks were
once more heard, and a sound as though some one were
being beaten with a stick,-and between the blows
could sometimes be heard the words, "0 love! 0
love!  The fair image! the beautiful picture!  Oh.
those brilliant eyes! That raven hair! The Prophet
help me!"
The Caliph could listen no longer to these strange
cries. He softly requested his Vizier to observe closely
the situation of the house, and together they left the
dreary square, still hearing for some distance the cries
of the unhappy sufferer.
The next morning the Grand Vizier took a couple
of confidential servants with him, and set out to find
the house in the lonely quarter of the city which the
Caliph and he had seen the night before. They soon
found it, and waited before it for some time, expecting
to hear the same lament as before. But all was quiet and
still. They knocked once, twice, at the door without
hearing the slightest sound in return.  Then they
knocked at the closed window-shutters, and repeated
this several times, until they heard a movement within.
A door was opened, footsteps were heard approaching
the front door, and the voice of an old man asked
through a crack in the wall, who was there and what
was wanted.
" Open, in the name of the Caliph!" cried Abdallah, adding, as the old man within seemed to hesitate.
"Open quickly, or I shall obey my master the Caliph
Haroun al Raschid's commands, and break down the
door, and you shall suffer severely for your disobe.
dience."




THE PRINCESS MORGANA.             9i
The door was slowly opened, and there appeared on
the threshold the figure of an old man, very meanly
clad, who, laying his hand on his breast and forehead,
asked, "What are the commands of my lord the
Caliph?"
Abdallah, with his two companions, entered the
house, and proceeded to the room whence had issued
the strange conversation on the previous evening. The
old man at first attempted to bar their progress, but
when he saw the armed attendants, he heaved a deep
sigh and opened the door of the apartment.
Although this room was in a very poor condition,
yet what remains of furniture there were showed that
some man of wealth had once resided there. Broken
cabinets of gilded wood stood against the walis, and
from the ceiling hung an old Persian shawl, as in many
of the Oriental houses. The shutters of the windows
were closed, so that one could only dimly descry a divan in the corner of the room, upon which lay extended
the figure of a young man. By chance a single ray of
sunlight now streamed in, and enabled the Vizier to
see the countenance of the youth distinctly. No one
who looked upon his pale, sunken features could
doubt that it was he whose shrieks had been heard
on the preceding evening.  He was about twenty
years old, and apparently took no notice of the newcomers. His eyes were shut, his lips, shaded by a
delicate black moustache, were tightly closed, and, in
spite of his emaciation and pallor, his head, covered
with thick, dark curls, was eminently handsome. His
dress, although ragged, showed traces of better days,
-and in one corner of the room, beside a pile of




92        THE PRINCESS MORGANA.
immense books, lay a number of broken flasks and
strange instruments, such as are used for necromancy
or magic.
After the Grand Vizier had glanced hastily over the
interior of the apartment, he asked the old man, who
stood submissively at the door, who this youth was;
whereupon the other made a sign entreating silence,
and beckoned the Grand Vizier to leave the room with
him.
Outside, he begged him most earnestly not to pry
into his secrets. But Abdallah announced to him that
the Caliph, his master, had commanded that he should
be brought before him, that he might learn the meaning of the cries and conversation that he had overheard the night before.
When the old man heard that the Caliph had commanded that he should be brought before him, he fell
upon his knees and swore by Allah and the Prophet
that he was guiltless of any crime, and that he would,
in fact, rather undergo severe punishment than live
any longer in this house. " Yet," he added, " I dare
not leave my young master; but if, 0 my lord, you
compel me, innocent as I am, to go to prison, you
must take care of him."
The Grand Vizier assured him that no one dreamed
of punishing him, and that, if he would only tell the
truth, the Caliph would order all things for the best
for himself and his master. So the old man returned
to the apartment where his master lay, and after exchanging a few words with him, left him, and followed the Grand Vizier, who placed a guard before
the house.




THE PRINCESS MORGANA.              93
When they arrived at the palace they were summoned
before the Caliph instantly, for Haroun al Raschid
was most anxious to learn from the lips of the servant what was the meaning of the conversation he had
overheard. The old man prostrated himself before the
Caliph, and said: "Commander of the Faithful, as I
know well that truth alone finds favour in your sight,
I will tell, without equivocation and just as it is,
my young master's story, and certainly none of
the Faithful have ever before had so strange a one.
Know, then, 0 my lord, that in that house, whither
Allah conducted you for our advantage yesterday
evening, there lived, two years ago, Abou el Deri, a
wise and learned man, of whom your Highness must
certainly have heard. He could read all the mysterious books of magicians and sorcerers, and discover from the stars much concerning the past and
future. I was his servant, 0 my lord, and in former
years accompanied him upon the journeys which he
made to all parts of the known world. Often have we
traversed the Great Desert, and there cannot be one
of the large Oases which we have not visited. The
ocean, too, has borne us upon its bosom, and my master made all these journeys, not to accumulate wealth
by the purchase and sale of costly merchandise, but in
all the countries and cities which we visited he sought
out wise and learned men, with whom he conversed
concerning the knowledge of the stars, and who either
gave him or received from him various kinds of information. Ah, sir, it was a pleasure indeed, to travel
for days and weeks through the lonely desert with
Abou el Deri.  Never in my life have I known any




94        THE PRINCESS MORGANA.
one who could relate such charming and entertaining
stories; he would continue his relations for days, and
every one listened to him with delight. But although
he was often eloquent and amusing upon these journeys,
there were moments when he became quiet and reserved, and these were the times when the Fata Morgana appeared on the horizon of the desert. Then he
grew thoughtful and serious, and would gaze for hours
upon the wondrous trees, the splendid palaces, and the
sparkling waters which adorn this phantom-spectacle
of the desert. I have often attempted to speak to him
at such times, but he would sign to me with his hand to
be silent, and then he would usually open before him
on his camel and study diligently one of his mysterious
books, full of strange drawings, which he seemed to
compare with the figures of the Fata Morgana.
" Once, after a day spent in this manner, we were
lying at evening under our tent, and Abou el Deri
was more friendly than ever, wherefore, impelled by
curiosity, I took heart and asked him why he gazed
so fixedly and earnestly at the desert-phantom, and
seemed rather to enjoy a sight which every true Mussulman regards with secret dread. Then my master laughed
and said to me,'Listen, 0 Ismael,' for so am I
called,'thou hast long been a faithful servant to me,
I will forgive, therefore, thy curiosity, nay, I will even
communicate to thee-for thy understanding is good
-what many wise and learned men before me have
already thought of the desert-phantom, and what I
myself believe it to be. Thou thyself hast often seen,
especially on very hot days, when the desert lies around
and far, far before us, that suddenly it is as if the sand




THE PRINCESS MORGANA,              95
on the distant horizon slowly arose, and mountains appear to rise up, above whose summits the heavy, yellow
clouds sail slowly hither and thither. It rolls and tosses
like a distant sea, and sometimes a ray of light shines
out as though the sun were throwing a single beam upon
the waters through thick, black clouds. The motion of
the hills increases, and the yellow clouds, which are at
first massed together, roll off like a long, thin veil and
slowly ascend to the skies, as though a curtain were
lifted from the earth and revealed to thy dazzled and
enraptured gaze a rich and lovely landscape where but
a moment before there was nothing but dreary hills of
sand. Around thee the sun still shines hot and glowing
upon the burning sand. Silently both men and horses
travel on through the heat, and entrancing indeed is
the spectacle presented by the Fata Morgana, of shady
groves of palm, cool, bubbling brooks, and gorgeous
palaces. At sight of them the traveller draws his burnous over his head and invokes the aid of the Prophet,
while he turns away his eyes from the distant vision,
for not where those palm trees wave does his path lie;
no, there is nothing for him there but sand and certain
death.
"'But for all this there is no evil in the Fata Morgana.  It does not seek to lure men to destruction,
but is as innocent as a lovely island in the ocean which
the mariner cannot reach because his guiding compass
is wanting. This fair island in the sand may yet be
one day reached by some man of true courage, and
rich will be the reward that this spot, blooming and
lovely as Paradise itself, contains for him who seeks it
there. Yes, Ismael,' continued my master,'I know




96         THE PRINCESS MORGANA.
thee to be good and wise; it will not bewilder thy
senses to learn that the Fata Morgana is more than a
mere phantom, and to be told that the Princess Morgana
reigns there, a woman more gloriously beautiful than
any other upon earth or in heaven.  It is true, no
mortal man has ever beheld her countenance, although
my books, as well as wise and learned men, maintain
that a powerful magician once succeeded in painting a
portrait of her, which has been lost now for many
years, and in truth the aim of all my study and travel
is to find this dangerous picture,-dangerous, because
the mortal who looks upon it sickens with rapture and
love.'
"Thus spoke my master, and you may imagine my
amazement at what he had related, and how I shook my
head to find that he was wasting so much time and money
in search of a fabulous picture. Some time after this
narrative we were journeying with a caravan to Damascus and Palmyra, and suffered greatly by the way.
The Simoom overtook us and destroyed a large part of
our caravan, and only the speed of our horses enabled
us to escape the wide-spread destruction. Ah, sir, it is
a fearful thing to see a caravan, men and beasts, flying
in deadly terror from the terrible death that pursues
them. Camels and horses seem endowed with miraculous speed, and, covered with foam, fly over the sand
until they drop dead in the midst of their course.
Near us in this wild flight we noticed a beautiful woman
upon a noble Arabian courser; she held her little child,
born only a short time before, wrapt in her veil, and,
in the universal confusion and noise that prevailed, she
had eyes only for the little creature, which she covered




THE PRINCESS MORGANA.             97
with her body from the rushing storm of sand. My
master's heart was touched at sight of this woman, and
we kept as near to her as we could, that we might assist
her in case of need. But the Prophet had decreed
her death. Her horse suddenly fell dead, unluckily at
a moment when the storm was close behind us. Then
she held her child imploringly towards us, and could
only cry out to my master,'Save, oh, save it!'
" You may imagine that in spite of the danger which
threatened us we reined in our horses, while I seized the
child and Abou el Deri attempted to rescue the woman.
But she drew her veil over her head, and, pointing despairingly to the approaching cloud of sand, adjured
us, by Allah and the Prophet, to fly and save the child.
Close behind us came the sand-pillar, like a gigantic
wall of fire, and curled above our heads like the lofty
waves of a stormy sea when they hurry on to dash
themselves upon the shore.'Fly! fly!' screamed the
woman,'and save my child!' Whereupon our horses,
who well knew the danger which threatened us, put
forth anew their failing strength, and rushed wildly
onwards. The cloud of sand broke and covered with
a gigantic mound the body of the wretched woman.
" Through the grace of the Prophet, we escaped, and
Abou el Deri considered the boy that Allah had so
unexpectedly sent, as his own, and had him educated
in the most careful manner. Notwithstanding this new
care, he continued his travels most diligently, and the
older he grew, the more determined he was to find the
picture of which he had told me. Thus we both grew
old, and the last journey which we made together was
to an oasis far beyond Palmyra, where dwelt a most
G               9




98         THE PRINCESS NORGANA.
wise and learned man. This journey was indeed out
last, for here, after all his searching, my master found
what he had so long desired,-the picture of the Prin.
cess Morgana. But of what use was it to him then?
He stood on the brink of the grave, and no power, no
time was left him to spend in an attempt at least to
find that blissful island about which he had dreamed
all his life long, and which had been the goal of all
his hopes. We came back here to Bagdad and lived
poorly and quietly, for my master's property was exhausted by his travels, and the little that he had hardly
sufficed to support him until his death. At last he
died, and in his dying moments I and his adopted
son, a well-grown youth, stood by his bedside. For
the last time he gave the young man good advice,
exhorting him to fear Allah and the Prophet, and presented to him an amulet which his unfortunate mother
had hung around his neck just before she perished in
the desert. He then begged the young man to leave
him, while he delivered to me his last directions.
"'Ismael,' he said, when we were alone,'in a few
moments I shall be no more, and thou wilt have lost a
master and my son a father. Promise me to use thy
life-long experience for his good, and to give him all
the assistance in thy power.' I took his hand, and
promised solemnly to do all that he asked of me,
whereupon he adjured me never to look upon the picture which he handed to me, or to show it to his son;'for,' he added,'at sight of this picture every man
will gradually sicken and die of love and rapture.'
In a few minutes after he died.
"I was now alone with the young man, and Abou el




THE PRINCESS MORGANA.              99
Deri had left but little behind him. Caskets and chests
were empty, and the only things which we could turn
into money were some old weapons adorned with gold
and jewels, which I sold in the bazaars. Our young
foster-son, who had received the name of Saladin, was
impetuous, brave, and fiery. Abou el Deri had had
him instructed by the wisest men of the age, and besides that he was learned in all book-wisdom, he could
bear a lance, and manage most skilfully the wildest
steed. But oh, sir, you can easily believe that all such
amusements had to be resigned after my master's death.
What could we do? The fiery courser that the young
Saladin rode we were obliged to sell, as well as the
costly apparel in which he had shone so brilliantly.
Often did I attempt to procure some employment for
my young master, whereby he might worthily earn his
bread. I recommended him to the captain of the
body-guard, entreating him to give the young man a
place among his horsemen; but, as I had no powerful
protector, and could not even procure a horse and the
necessary outfit, I was everywhere refused. Ah, sir,
that was a sad time. I tried to persuade the youthful
Saladin to undertake some employment, and at last
induced him to promise to accept a place as servant in
some shop. But I had thus bowed his proud spirit in
vain; for although every one was prepossessed by his
appearance in his favour, the merchants no sooner
heard that he was the son of Abou el Deri, the magician
and conjurer, as they called him, than they turned from
us and closed their doors against us.  The money
from  the sale of the weapons was now exhausted,
and I searched every chest and corner of the house




o00        THE PRINCESS MORGANA.
in vain to find some concealed treasure.  I even
examined the iron casket which contained the wonderful picture, in hopes of finding something else in
it, but there was nothing there except the picture,
enclosed in a case. I must confess that while searching here I was tortured with curiosity, and longed
to press the steel button of the case that enclosed the
wonderful thing. But by good luck I seemed to hear
at this moment the voice of my old master calling me,
and I resisted the temptation. Unfortunately, I forgot
to lock the casket again, and left the house to beg a
loan of an acquaintance.
"While I was away, Saladin came home, and, having
often noticed the casket before, and seen that it was
always locked, he made use of my absence to take out
the case, and O my lord, the unhappy youth opened it
and looked upon the picture.
"What happened then I do not know, but when I
returned I found him wildly raving, lying upon his bed
in a burning fever, holding in his hands the case,
which no force could wrest from him.  Too well I
knew, from the wild words that he uttered in his delirium, that he had seen the picture, and that the
declaration of my dying master, that any mortal who
should behold it would sicken of love and rapture, was
fulfilled in him, for he lay upon his bed devoured by a
malignant, wasting fever, and muttering the most mysterious, unconnected phrases.  He usually thought
himself in the desert, beholding in the distance the
phantom of the Fata Morgana. He described it, as
Abou el Deri had done, in the loveliest and most
glowing colours, as an island of rapture and bliss. And




THE PRINCESS MORGANA.               lot
in all these visions the ill-fated picture played a principal part, for it always seemed to hover before him,
and his bewildered soul followed it over snow-clad hills,
through raging seas, and the burning sand of the desert.
"At last the force of the fever was spent, and I hoped
that reason would return to the unhappy Saladin and
banish the remembrance of the picture from his heart.
But no, as his body recovered, his heart and mind
grew worse. The first time that, as I sat by his couch,
he recognized me, after many months of patient nursing,
and spoke connectedly, he showed me the case with
rapture, and declared that at last he had found something to which he would consecrate his existence, and
which he would either attain or die, and that was, to
find the original of the picture. In vain I represented
to him that the picture must be a mere fancy of the
artist; he only smiled and said, in a faint voice,'O
Ismael, your incredulity grieves me. I assure you it is
the picture of the Princess Morgana, who reigns over a
blissful island far in the desert. Well I know that as
yet no mortal has had the good fortune to reach that
island and see the Princess, yet why should not I be
the one to find the way thither? Indeed, I know I shall
succeed in doing so, for in the delirium of my fever I
have often journeyed thither.. It was in truth a wild
and weary road, and the caravan to which I belonged
was composed of strange figures; but, nevertheless, I
shall reach the island at last,-yes, I shall see her and
be near her.'
"When at first I heard him talk thus, I thought the
fever had not yet left him, and that with time these
strange ideas would vanish.  But I was- mistaken.
9




102        THE PRINCESS MORGANA.
Saladin recovered slowly, indeed, but never forgot his
purpose of seeking the Princess Morgana, as he called
the picture. He had determined upon a course which
bordered on madness, and by which, he said, he could
accustom his body to the fearful privations that he
would have to endure upon his travels. In pursuance
of this determination, he took no food nor drink for
days, that he might inure himself to hunger and
thirst. All my remonstrances were in vain. He fell
into a terrible rage whenever I represented to him the
folly of his conduct, and at last he persuaded me, by
his entreaties, to aid him in these follies.
" He often goes for three or four days without food,
and, besides, compels me to beat him severely, that he
may bid defiance to the ill treatment of those who would
dissuade him from his undertaking. You may imagine
what I have suffered in beholding this madness, 0
my lord, but what could I, a poor old man, do? for however firmly I determined to resist his will, I could not
persist long in this determination, for his grief at my
faithlessness, as he called it, his lamentations because I
would not help him to obtain what he loved best in the
world, were so heart-rending,-even more hard for me
to bear than the ill treatment to which he subjected
himself. If I sometimes ask him when and by whose
assistance he expects to undertake his journey, he
always answers that destiny, which has put into his
hands the portrait of the Princess Morgana, will, when
the time for the journey arrives, provide means for its
accomplishment.
"This is the story, 0 my lord, of old Abou el Deri
and his foster-son, and, by the beard of the Prophet, I




THE PRINCESS MORGANA.             103
have concealed nothing. You yourselves heard last
evening how he tormented me with his madness, and
how I was obliged to treat him. I pray my lord to
decide now in his wisdom what shall become of us."
The Caliph, as well as his Grand Vizier, had listened
most attentively to this strange story, and at its close
sat silent, not knowing what to think of it. "What do
you say, Abdallah," said the Caliph, "to our sending
for this picture and looking at it at all hazards?"
"0 my lord," quickly returned Ismael, after he
had made a low obeisance, "0 my lord, do not in
your wisdom  determine upon anything so fearful.
Believe me, the evil spell that is on this picture would
make the rest of your life miserable."
"It is indeed a strange story," said the Grand
Vizier, "and if I might give your Highness counsel
which your wisdom would not reject, it would be to
provide the young man with means to traverse the
desert with a caravan for a year at least. Perhaps the
Prophet will be gracious to him, and in that time cure
him of his insanity."
"You are right," answered the Caliph. "Make the
necessary preparations, and do not let the traveller
want for anything. Send him away with one of the
great caravans which are about going to Palmyra, and
command him to return at the end of a year, and then
I will provide further for him."
Ismael fell at the Caliph's feet, and, whilst he stammered his thanks for the favour shown him, ventured
to prefer the request that he might accompany his
young master. It was granted, and Haroun al Raschid,
commanding the young man to be brought before him




104        THE PRINCESS MORGANA.
when he should be ready for his journey, dismissed
the old servant, who went back to his dwelling to
cheer and revive his master with the news that he
brought.
Saladin was lying stretched out upon his bed, and at
first listened carelessly to his servant's story of having
been summoned to the Caliph's presence, and of having
told him of Abou el Deri's search for the portrait. But
when Ismael went on to say that the Caliph had
promised to fit him out and give him the means for a
journey across the desert, the young man suddenly
arose from his couch, and cried, with sparkling eyes,
"Do you not see, Ismael, that my dreams have not
lied? Do you not see that the time is at hand, for Allah
sends me unhoped-for aid? The time has indeed come
for me to begin the search for which my soul longs,upon this journey I shall find what I seek."
Early the next day there came to the young Saladin's
dwelling chests packed full of handsome apparel, with
weapons, and all kinds of provisions for a long journey,
and the generous Caliph sent several valuable horses,
as well as some black slaves, who were to accompany
the young man. Saladin himself had been a changed
creature from the time of Ismael's announcement of
the Caliph's bounty. In a few days no one would have
imagined that he had lain ill for months, subjecting
himself to all kinds of privation and harsh usage. The
mere thought of carrying out the darling wish of his
soul had inspired him with new life,-the colour returned to his cheeks, and his eye flashed again beneath
its dark lashes like the glowing sun when at evening
it sinks, cloud-encompassed, below the horizon. An




THE PRINCESS MORGANA.             o05
hour after the old servant's return from the palace his
master arose, and, when the Caliph's gifts arrived, he
selected from them  the handsomest and richest suit
of apparel, and, accompanied by Ismael, rode upon
one of the Persian horses through the streets and
bazaars, to the palace of the Caliph, in order to present
himself before the throne, as Haroun al Raschid had
commanded.
The people in the streets through which he passed
got out of his way respectfully, and were so dazzled by
his stately, handsome figure and his skill in horsemanship, in short, by his whole appearance, that, standing
aside, they bowed low before him  as before some
mighty Emir. The merchants, too, in the bazaars, regarded him with astonishment, and asked one another
who the strange prince could be. Thus he arrived at
the Caliph's palace, where the guards received him,
with his old companion, in the most reverential manner, and without delay he was admitted to the interior
court-yard. Here several pages sprang forward to hold
his stirrup for him to dismount, and then led him, with
his servant Ismael, to the apartments of the Caliph, who,
with his Grand Vizier Abdallah, received him there.
Haroun al Raschid regarded the young man, who
prostrated himself before him, with a gracious smile,
and renewed the promises which he had given to the
aged Ismael.
"Commander of the Faithful," replied Saladin,
"you have appeared to a wretched man, in your mercy
and generosity, like an angel from heaven, and the
Prophet will reward you for it. How shall I express
my gratitude for the boundless favour that you have




ro6        THE PRINCESS MORGANA.
shown me? I shall find what I have so long desired,
and, if Allah permits it, I shall be blest indeed."
The Caliph, who had at first entertained an idea
that the youth might perhaps be cured of his fanaticism, saw clearly from these words that his intentions
were fixed unalterably in his mind, and determined to
waste no time in combating them. He therefore dismissed him with his best wishes, and Saladin returned
to his dwelling intoxicated with joy.
The inhabitants of Bagdad, whose curiosity had been
greatly excited by the appearance of the strange prince
whom they supposed Saladin to be, took great pains to
discover who the young man really was, and no sooner
learned that he was the son of the old magician, Abou
el Deri, and that the Caliph had given him the means
and outfit for a long journey, than they declared that
the whole story of the portrait was an utter falsehood,
invented by the old rogue Ismael to extort money from
the Caliph's compassion, and these envious men lamented that the old man's trick had been so successful.
A few days afterwards the caravan, joined by the
young man and his servant, set out from Cairo for
Palmyra, and the people in the bazaars said, laughing,
to one another, "See that cunning rogue Ismael,-how
he rides off with his booty."
As is commonly the case with evil-speaking, in this
particular instance it increased from hour to hour, was
embellished with various additional statements and surmises, and became at last so credible that even the wisest
might have been imposed upon by it. The people
firmly believed that the aged Ismael had deceived the
Caliph.  "Look you," they said to one another, "old




THE PRINCESS MORGANA.               oy7
Abou el Deri, as we all know, never had a son. Where
could Ismael have picked up this young man whom he
has trained to carry out his purposes?"  "It seems to
me," said another, "that I have seen the young liar
somewhere."  "Just so," added a third.  "Did we
not see, a little while ago, a youth serving in the
barber's shop at the great Caravanserai as like this
Saladin as one egg to another?" "Aha!" chimed in
all the rest, "you have hit it,-it is he.  Oh the
good Caliph!"
Haroun al Raschid soon heard these reports from
his Grand Vizier, and, although he refused at first to
credit them, he was at last persuaded by Abdallah's
representations to send for the master of that same
barber's shop, who replied, with a malicious smile, to
the Caliph's questions concerning the young man:
"Commander of the Faithful, man is erring, and the
Prophet be my witness that I would not willingly say
aught evil of my fellow-men.  But as regards that
young man, I can affirm that a few weeks ago he was
employed by me to wash my barber's basin and razor.
It is true that he presented a very different appearance
when I saw him again, but that was owing to the costly
apparel and the noble steed which your Highness presented him."
The Caliph, hard as it was for him to acknowledge
to himself that he had been thus deceived, could not
help crediting the words of the barber, and said afterwards to his Grand Vizier, "Hark ye, Abdallah, we
must take better care for the future, and let people bawl
and shriek in their houses as much as they please, with
out troubling ourselves about them."




ro8       THE PRINCESS MORGANA.
Abdallah shrugged his shoulders and replied, "In.
deed it has proved a most rascally trick."
In the mean while the caravan to which Saladin and
Ismael had joined themselves pursued its quiet way
through the desert, and the two pilgrims never dreamed
of the slanders heaped upon their fair fame behind their
backs. The young man was rejoiced that at last he
had taken the first step that was to lead him to the
unknown original of his picture, and that now some
lucky chance might speedily bring him to the goal of
his wishes. Ismael, too, was happy to leave the dull
life of the city, and to be again travelling in the wellremembered desert. He seemed to be twenty years
younger, and to be once more riding by the side of his
old master, Abou el Deri.
The caravan was very large, and as it carried a great
amount of gold and silver was escorted by a number
of armed horsemen, to protect it from the attacks of
the Bedouins. In a very few days these sturdy robbers
showed themselves in the distance, reconnoitring, apparently, the size and strength of the caravan, sometimes even surprising small detachments of the train
who lagged behind after a night's encampment, and
leading off the loaded camels, having cut down such of
the men as made resistance.
The larger part of the caravan, however, and Saladin
with it, pursued its way without any accident. At
first the riding over the hot sand, under the glowing
sun of the desert, occasioned the young man not
a little inconvenience. But he soon became accustomed to it, and enjoyed all the beauty and sublimity
that can be found in the quiet and solitude of this huge




THE PRINCESS MORGANA.              1o9
waste of sand, and when the heat of the sun sometimes
depressed him, he was refreshed by the thought of the
Fata Morgana, which he had never seen, and to behold
which he so ardently longed. At last, one beautiful
evening, when the sun had blazed over the heads of
the horsemen all day long with terrific heat, the phantom of the desert revealed itself from the midst of a
blue mist which seemed to ascend from the distant
horizon, and the last rays of the setting sun flashed
gloriously upon those fabled palaces, those unattainable
groves, and that shining water which gushed forth
sparkling and bright and yet had never moistened
human lips. Saladin sat enraptured upon his horse,
his ardent gaze fixed upon the enchanting spectacle,
until, growing fainter and fainter, it gradually faded
entirely away.
As the two travellers were lying under their tent that
night, the young man said to his servant, "Ah, Ismael,
I have noted exactly the direction of the blessed island
where reigns the Princess Morgana. Let us start now,
and perhaps we may reach it before morning."
"By the Prophet!" replied Ismael, with a sorrowful
smile. "Dear master, how strange all your projects
are! Our present journey in search of the original,
which probably has no existence, of a picture, is ridiculous enough. But your plan of leaving the caravan, to
go wildly forth into the desert, borders on madness,
and, believe me, you will never reach this phantom
scene, with its fair palaces and palms and streams.
For every step which seems to lead you towards it, it
recedes ten steps from you."
"But," rejoined Saladin, impatiently, "how can I
IO




iio        THE PRINCESS MORGANA.
attain my aims, and reach the consummation of my
wishes upon which my whole future peace depends?
Did you think, perhaps, that this ride through the
desert would change my intentions and efface that
image from my heart?"
"I hope, 0 my master," replied Ismael, "I hope
your visions will be dissipated, and that when we return
to Bagdad, at the end of a year, you will look back to
these days as to some troubled dream."
Saladin shook his head mournfully and lay down to
rest. Such conversations as these were often held,
and, although Ismael used every exertion to bring his
young master to reason, he could not succeed. Saladin
carefully preserved the picture, and in many a ionely
hour, opening the case, lost himself in contemplation
of its loveliness. By the side of a fountain which
tossed its transparent drops high into the air sat the
figure of a young girl, her head thoughtfully inclined
towards the earth, so that one could see only the fair,
shining brow and the half-closed eyes. But, as these
were beautiful enough to cause the soul of man to sicken
with rapture, how incomparably exquisite must the
whole face be, if the maiden should raise her head and
look full at the beholder! How often did the young
Saladin gaze, intoxicated with love, upon this image,
praying the Prophet to work a miracle in his favour and
give him one look into that glorious countenance.
Rash prayer! If a part only of this lovely face had
power to make him well-nigh broken-hearted, what
would become of him if once the fire of that glance,
more devouring than the sun at high noon, should
inflame his blood?




THE PRINCESS MORGANA.              I1
In a few weeks the caravan reached Damascus, and
after it had rested there for a few days turned towards
Palmyra. Soon the travellers found themselves once
more in the open desert, where they saw nothing
around them save sand and sky. The rations of water
for man and beast decreased daily, and the more the
men were tormented by the heat the more eagerly
was their gaze turned to the Fata Morgana that now,
more enchantingly than at any other time, revealed
every evening to their enraptured vision its fairy
beauties. Saladin lay for whole hours in the shade of
his tent, gazing out upon the desert, dreaming with
open eyes, and imagining that through those fantastic
groves he could discover the shimmer of the fountain by which the maiden sat with downcast eyes.
Vain fancy! When the light of the sun faded, the
fairy island faded with it, and Saladin tossed restlessly
and feverishly upon his couch.
He had often determined to leave the caravan, and
even his old servant, secretly at night, and, throwing
himself upon his steed, to commend himself to Allah
and to proceed in the direction in which the Fata Morgana had last revealed to him its fairy groves. But it
always seemed as if old Ismael suspected his resolve,
for he was constantly relating horrible tales of travellers
who, driven by thirst, had forsaken caravans in search of
the sparkling waters which the desert-phantom offered
to them, but who had perished miserably in the sand.
These narratives did not fail to impress the young man,
although only slightly and for a very short time. But
his desire and love were too great, and by-and-by his
purpose became fixed to leave the caravan.




112        THE PRINCESS MORGANA.
At last (it was on a beautiful night, and when the
rays of the setting sun had illumined the Fata Morgana
shining more brilliantly than ever in the distance) the
young man stole away from his servant's side, swung
himself upon his horse, and rode softly through the
rows of tents out into the desert beyond. Having narrowly observed the direction in which the Fata Morgana had been seen, he gave his steed the spur, and
galloped thitherwards. The stars came out brilliantly in
the heavens and grew pale before the morning whitening
in the east, while the young man, upon his horse, rushed
towards the rising sun. The gray of night turned to
violet, which, growing more and more brilliant, became
dark yellow, and seemed to encompass the heavens
with a golden circle, which, slowly lifting, allowed the
first ray of the sun to appear, gilding the waste of sand
as far as the eye could reach.
Saladin now checked his steed, gazed first at the
sun, while he uttered a fervent prayer to the Prophet
to guide him mercifully towards the fulfilment of his
desires, and then looked back upon the plain over
which he had ridden, and, seeing there nothing but a
wide, sandy desert, his heart grew lighter, and he rejoiced in having made his escape from the wearisome,
creeping caravan, and in being free as a bird to roam
whither he would. Again he gave his steed the spur,
and galloped towards the east, hoping soon to see and
arrive at the Fata Morgana. The sun rose slowly and
seemed to concentrate its rays upon the lonely horseman, so unendurable was the heat.
Day was again declining, when the weary steed could
go no farther, wherefore Saladin dismounted, and now




THE PRINCESS MORGANA.             113
for the first time he remembered with horror that he
had neither provender nor water wherewith to refresh
the exhausted animal after his long march.  Fortunately, he found in his little provision-bag a handful
of maize, which he gave him, and although he himself
suffered not a little from hunger and thirst, he suddenly
forgot it all at the sight of the Fata Morgana, which
now slowly arose before his longing vision. But he
had not approached any nearer to it than on the previous evening, and it was only his imagination that
persuaded him that he saw it more distinctly than ever
before. Ah, those fairy palm-groves and palaces were
hovering upon the horizon as distant as ever! Thus
the night wore away, and the following morning found
the youth again on horseback, steadily pursuing the
same phantom, that receded as steadily from his pursuit.
The horse was so overcome by hunger, thirst, and
fatigue that towards the evening of the second day his
rider dismounted and led the poor creature after him
by the bridle, for before him ascended again the desertphantom, and, alas I no nearer than on the evening
before.
When the night fell, Saladin lay down by the side
of his horse, but was unable to sleep, so great were the
pangs of hunger and thirst that assailed him. Hope,
which had not left him, gave him, however, new
strength, and in the morning he sprang up more
briskly than ever, to continue his ride. But his poor
steed, whom no search for happiness animated, made
one or two painful attempts to get upon his legs, and
then sank back upon the sand, as if conscious that his
strength was exhausted.
H              10*




114        TIlE PRINCESS MORGANA.
As the young man looked at his dying steed, for
the first time a doubt arose in his breast, and he
thought with terror of a like fate that awaited him
if he did not reach the goal of his desires. But noDe,
and a glance at the picture, which he carried with
him, reanimated his courage anew, and, bidding a sad
farewell to his faithful animal, he pursued his way on
foot.
To his dismay, he found very early in the day that
he journeyed much more slowly in this way, and with
much more difficulty, than when he sat high in his
saddle. It seemed, too, as though his limbs refused to
render him their usual service, as though something
deprived them of power, for, with all his exertions to
proceed quickly, he could scarcely take three or four
brisk steps before he fell back again into the old,
wearisome, lagging pace. Alas! there were two fearful
enemies of mankind,-hunger and thirst,-which assailed poor Saladin on all sides, laming his limbs and
making his heart sick.
Again the sun declined in the heavens, and again
the Fata Morgana, rising before him, gave him new
strength and courage, for he was convinced that it was
not so far off as before. Fatigue soon stretched him
upon the sand, but the sleep that fell upon him was no
peaceful, refreshing slumber, only a feverish stupor that
closed his eyes without giving him rest.
When the sun rose the next morning, Saladin had
passed four nights, since his flight from the caravan,
without tasting a morsel of food or a drop of water.
Any other mortal would have perished, but, thanks to
the privations which he had voluntarily endured in




THE PRINCESS MORGANA.             115
Bagdad, he was not only still living, but able to arise
and leave the spot, although wearily enough. His walk
was like the pace of the snail, and, for the first time,
the loneliness and desolation of the desert seemed
frightful to him. The slight doubt that had yesterday
assailed him with regard to the success of his undertaking now became a certainty, and he sighed for his
servant Ismael, and thought of the pain which his flight
must have caused the old man.
"Ah!" he moaned, "why did I not attend to his
warnings? I might then have returned happily to my
home, and awaited another opportunity to seek the
original of my beloved picture. I should not then have
perished miserably upon this waste."
The sun blazed down upon him, and, unable to bear
its fierce heat, his worn-out body refused to carry him
farther. He took out his picture, opened the case,
and looked for the last time at the dear image. The
maiden sat quietly as ever by the fountain, which tossed
high its brilliant spray, a few drops of which would
have given him new life. And once more the picture
asserted its magic power over him.  Hope revived
anew in his soul, and he tried to rise and drag himself
onwards, but his limbs refused to obey him. He sank
back upon the sand, closed his eyes, and resigned himself to death.
Thus the night slowly approached, and a gentle
breeze, blowing over the desert, cooled his hot cheeks
and softly kissed his closed eyes. For the last time the
wretched young man looked around him, and his whole
previous life presented itself vividly before him. He
remembered all that Abou el Deri had told him of the




t16        THE PRINCESS MORGANA.
wonderful way in which the Prophet had rescued him
from the simoom, and he thought of the day when his
foster-father had received him from the arms of his
dying mother.
"Why," sighed he, "was I rescued then, to die here
upon the same sand, without having made my life of
any use to myself or others? Oh, wherefore?" Saladin
implored of the sky above him. But there was no one
there to reply to him.
The day had now faded entirely, and with the dark
night, the friendly stars, and the brilliant moon, came
the poor young Saladin's last hour. A burning fever
raged in his veins, but his soul grew calmer and calmer,
and involuntarily he crossed his hands upon his breast
as he watched a star shoot brilliantly from its place and
vanish below the horizon.
He greatly errs who does not believe that the desert,
which lies so blank and waste before us, is peopled at
certain times of the night by strange and mysterious
beings. Only the Phantoms and Genii who make the
desert their abiding-place are, in accordance with the
character of the place, of, a more grave and serious
character than the Djinns and Afrites who nightly
haunt the shores of the Nile.
In the middle of the night, when the moon is descending in the heavens, strangely-shaped mists appear
and cover the brow of darkness, for the sad spirits that
arise from the sand of the desert prefer a dim twilight
to the bright radiance of the moon. A gentle wind
breathes above the sand-hills that often lie thickly
grouped around, and tosses the sand from them high
into the air. But, wonderful to relate, the sand does




THE PRINCESS MORGANA.             1 7
not fall again, but rises higher and higher, intermingling strangely. Here it grows lighter, and there
darker,-taking odd, airy shapes, which combine and
present the forms of men and beasts, hovering silently
about. And now white, bleached bones come forth from
the sand-hills and vanish among the phantoms, which
put themselves in motion and form a long train. This
is the spirit-caravan. All who have perished in the
desert, those slain by the sword or bullet of the
Bedouins, as well as those killed and buried by the
simoom, come up from their graves, and range themselves in the long procession, which winds slowly
through the waste, to the sound of a muffled drum.
It is not good for human eye to behold the spiritcaravan, for both soul and body of hmh who beholds it
sicken,-he must soon die, and perhaps join the
ghostly train on the succeeding night. Many have seen
it and told, before their death, of the ghastly spectacle,
of the solemn-pacing camels, with their fixed, lifeless
eyes, upon whose backs sit motionless men, with turbans flowing down over their shoulders, as in deep
mourning, and with garments fluttering wildly in the
wind.  The dead women in the caravan sit bowed
down over their horses, wrapping their long veils
about their heads, as at the approach of the simoom.
Sometimes he who is so unfortunate as to behold the
train recognizes a friend or relative, who beckons to
him, and alas for him who receives such a greeting,
-his days are numbered,-may the Prophet protect
him!
Thus the young Saladin lay, on this night, and
wrestled with death, while strange pictures were pre



II8       THE PRINCESS MORGANA.
sented to his inward eye. It seemed to him as though
the case, which lay beside him on the ground, opened,
and the picture of the Princess Morgana slowly ascended
from it, with the green palm-grove, beneath which she
sat, and the playing fountain, whose murmur the miserable man thought he could hear distinctly.  He
gazed fixedly at the beautiful figure, and his heart was
revived anew, for she slowly raised her head, and the
heavenly glance that she directed towards him shot
fresh power into his limbs. But in vain! The picture
faded again, and gradually vanished into thin air.
Saladin lay there and listened to the beating of his
heart, which, scarcely audible at first, grew louder and
louder. Then it seemed to the dying man as though
it were not his heart that he heard, but some sound
from the far distance, which came nearer and nearer,
-and he was right. He distinctly heard the sound
of a drum, regularly struck, slowly approaching. The
thought flashed across his mind that men might be
coming to rescue him, but this hope quickly vanished,
for a caravan never pursues its way at night, and the
sound which he heard came ever nearer. He could
already distinguish the gentle, measured tread of the
camels, and the rustling and waving of the turbans
and garments of the men.  Wearily he opened his
eyes, but closed them again with a shudder, for he
saw the spirit-caravan passing close beside him. The
ghostly horsemen flitted past, and he saw them all,
although his eyes were closed. It seemed to him, too,
that they beckoned to him, and a dead negro, who
was just passing, showed his white teeth and pointed,
grinning, to a riderless horse which he led by the




THE PRINCESS MORGANA.            I 9
bridle. Multitudes of camels and horses swept by,
upon which sat forms shrouded in long garments and
veils, and none troubled themselves further concerning
the man who lay dying upon the sand.
Then a new portion of the train appeared. There
were camels heavily-laden, followed by numbers of
slaves, on horseback, surrounding a woman mounted
upon a noble Arabian steed. The woman wore her
veil wrapped around her head, and her gaze rested
upon the ground. Suddenly she began to move, raised
her head, and looked around with a startled and terrified expression. Her face seemed to the young man
-oh, so well known and so kindly,-but he could not
remember having seen it before.  It was like the
melody of a song heard now for the first time since
earliest boyhood.  The woman fixed her eyes upon
him  as he lay upon the sand, and there suddenly
dawned a gentle smile upon her pale, motionless countenance. Hastily she drew aside her veil, turned her
horse from the train to the spot where the young man
lay, and sprang down and kneeled beside him, laying
her hand at the same time upon his heart and brow.
Saladin hardly knew where he was. He opened his
eyes and gazed into the face of the kindly lady, who,
bending over him, was regarding him with the greatest
tenderness. "Yes, it is he," she said, in a low, monotonous voice, "it is my son whom the simoom has
spared, and I behold him once more." At these words
a delicious sensation pervaded the dying man's frame,
and, horrible as the spirit-caravan had at first seemed
to him, he no longer felt as lonely as. before in the
desert. The slaves, in the midst of whom the lady had




120        THE PRINCESS MORGANA.
been riding, also turned their horses aside from the
train and surrounded the young man, gazing fixedly at
him. The lady next loosened a flask from her girdle,
and poured into his mouth several drops, which seemed
to run like liquid fire through all his veins and inspire
him with new strength. He was soon able to arise, and
the preceding hour seemed to him like a dream. His
gaze rested upon the spirit-caravan, which was still
passing by as if it had no end, and then he looked into
the pale face of the lady beaming love and tenderness
upon him, and for the first time in his life he uttered a
name whose sweet sound had hitherto been strange to
his lips. "Mother, is it thou?" he said; "art thou my
mother, lost in earliest infancy, now appearing to rescue
me from death?"
For answer, the lady nodded her head sadly and
said, "Yes, if I may."  Then she glanced suddenly
after the caravan, which had now passed, and cast an
inquiring look upon her companions, who were all
standing motionless around her.
The negro whom Saladin had noticed, and who had
grinned so significantly, turned back and came towards
them. He rode a coal-black horse and led another by
the bridle, which he offered to the young man, without
a word.
Saladin, supported by his mother's arm, walked to
the horse led by the negro and mounted it.  The
lady mounted hers at the same time, and the train
moved on again, quickly but silently.
Although Saladin knew perfectly all that had happened to him in the last half-hour, and although he
had recognized his mother in the lady who had rescued




THE PRINCESS MORGANA.             121
him from death, yet these strange occurrences seemed
to him like some pleasant dream. He saw the lady
riding by his side, tenderly regarding him, and now
and then laying her hand upon his arm. But ah I his
first impressions returned,-her hand was cold, and at
her touch there went a sharp pain through his limbs;
and her face, although full of kindliness, and dear to
him as the face of his mother, was nevertheless cold,
lifeless, and rigid.
It seemed as though the horses and camels of the
caravan moved very slowly, but in reality they sped
onward with inconceivable rapidity.  Scarcely could
Saladin perceive a fresh row of sand-hills on the
horizon, before they were reached and left behind.
After they had journeyed on for some time in this
way, suddenly upon the horizon Saladin discovered
gorgeous palaces, surrounded by graceful palms, which
seemed to have arisen from the ground as if by magic.
All this presented a magnificent spectacle in the dark
night. The palaces were lighted from within, and
shone with the gayest colours. The thick groves of
oranges, sycamores, and palms surrounding the buildings were also illumined with brightly-coloured rays,
apparently proceeding from the many fountains which
dotted the greensward, and which seemed as if their
waters shot forth brilliant vari-coloured beams.
Dazzled by the brilliancy, Saladin covered his eyes
with his hand at the sight of this gorgeous island in
the midst of the desert, and while he asked his mother
to what mighty prince those palaces belonged, a joyous
presentiment shot through his soul.
II




122        THE PRINCESS MORGANA.
"Ah, my son," replied the lady, "these palaces
belong to no powerful prince; all the grandeur that
you see glittering there before us surrounds the retreat
of the unhappy Princess Morgana."
You may easily imagine what an impression these
words made upon the heart of the young man, and
with what sensations he beheld the island lying a few
steps before him, to reach which had been his lifelong desire, a desire which had well-nigh cost him
his life.
"Listen, my son," continued his mother.  "What
you now see before you thus enchantingly illuminated
is the appearance which often rises upon the gaze of
mortals in the desert, and which, on the approach of
men, retreats and vanishes. It is the Fata Morgana,a paradise provided by the clemency of the Prophet
for those unfortunates, of whom your mother is one,
who perish in the desert, whom the sand covers, and
to whom is denied the burial granted to all true believers. Alas! for us it does not present the uninterrupted joy of Paradise, for as long as the sun shines in
the heavens we lie motionless beneath the sands, and
only when night comes do we rise from our graves
and journey in countless numbers towards the east, to
the realm of the Princess Morgana, where the night is
spent in wild revelry."
Saladin scarcely heard his mother's words, for his
soul hurried on before the caravan, and already hovered,
filled with the wildest hopes, among those palms and
orange-groves, where his eyes sought out the fountain
by whose brink he should find the Princess.
The first train of the caravan had now arrived at the




THE PRINCESS MORGANA.             123
island, and the quiet, motionless forms dismounted
from their horses and camels and vanished among
the trees and buildings in the midst of the oasis, whence
a gentle but joyous music floated.
Thus every train of the caravan arrived in turn, until
the one approached in which Saladin rode, who was
scarcely able to sit upon his steed, so great was his
impatience. And now this train also arrived, and
the slaves dismounted noiselessly to hold the stirrup
for their mistress and her son. The latter hastily threw
himself from his horse and was about to rush quickly
into the grove, when his mother seized him by the
hand.
"Where are you going, my son?" she asked, anxiously; "what spurs you on thus?  Ah! do not join
the merry dances which my companions in misfortune
are leading. Refrain from beholding them,-they are
not for eyes whence the light of life still beams."
"Ah! my mother," rejoined the youth, impatiently,
"what do I care for music and dancing? Something
far different,-a lovely, enchanting picture drove me
into the desert and would have driven me to certain
death, if the Prophet had not rescued me by sending
you to my relief. But now, 0 mother, I am near the
original of this picture, so I pray you detain me no
longer, for I must see her myself,-I must throw myself at the feet of the Princess Morgana!"
At the mention of this name his mother covered her
face with her veil, and said, softly and sadly, "Alas!
alas! my son, what has happened to thee? Who has
aroused in thy breast this fearful desire to find the
Princess Morgana? 0 my child, do not go, —do not




124       THE PRINCESS MORGANA.
join these unfortunates who pass in noisy revelry the
few hours nightly allowed them by the Prophet, for
your wish might be granted,-you might see the
Princess Morgana, and then death would immediately
seal your eyes, and you too would have no rest in the
grave, but be forced to mount your steed every night
and follow the spirit-caravan."
A mother's request is a sacred thing.  However
strongly Saladin felt himself drawn towards the enchanted island, he could not leave his mother, who
conjured him not to mingle in the wild throng of
revellers. He followed her involuntarily, and she led
him to a quiet spot in the oasis, whither no ray of the
brilliant light penetrated, and where no note of the
wild music could be heard. She conducted him here
to a mossy bank, beside which a little stream gurgled,
surrounded by palms and sycamores whose branches
formed an arbour over the whole place.
Here the lady seated herself, and drew her son down
beside her upon the bank, while she begged him to tell
her everything that he knew concerning the Princess
Morgana, and what had induced him to seek her.
Minutely and with the greatest enthusiasm Saladin
then related his story,-told how Abou el Deri had
brought him up, and how his foster-father had died and
left him alone with the old Ismael. Then he spoke in
ardent terms of the picture that he had found by
chance, and told of the illness that had befallen him
upon first beholding it, and how the longing desire to
see the original-the Princess Morgana-had never
since left him, but that he had been sunk in poverty
and misery until the Caliph Haroun al Raschil had




THE PRINCESS MORGANA.             x2
fited him out and sent him off with the caravan, which
he had left, after several days, and, wandering about
alone, would have died if his mother had not found
and saved him.
At the last words he took from his girdle the picture
and showed it to his mother, who replied, "My son, I
cannot understand by what magic power this picture
has been painted, for in truth these are the very features of the Princess Morgana."
"Ah! see, mother," rejoined the young man, joyfully, "see, my dreams have not lied,-I am near the
goal of my desires. Therefore keep me no longer,let me take this last step towards my happiness,-let
me see her, and perhaps enjoy the bliss of awakening
her love."
At these words the youth was about to start up, but
his mother again drew him gently down beside her, and
begged him to listen to all that she would impart to
him concerning this fatally fair Princess.
"The finding of this picture, my son," said she, "is
no mercy shown you by Allah and the Prophet. It is
rather a great misfortune, for if you became ill at the
sight of this picture only, a look from the Princess
herself-who excels a thousand times this painted
beauty-would surely kill you. The fire of her eye
glows so powerfully that it would even warm  our
frozen hearts and give us life again, if the Prophet's
mighty will did not send us back to our graves at the
approach of dawn.
"The Princess Morgana is the daughter of a fairy,
who, before the birth of her child, begged the Queen
of the Fairies to grant her a favour. When she had




126        THE PRINCESS MORGANA.
gained her wish she foolishly implored for her daughter
such beauty that no human being could behold her
without dying of rapture and love. Her request was
granted, and when the Princess Morgana grew up, this
fatal gift worked dreadful evil among men and spirits.
For, although the latter could not die at the sight of
the Princess, they were devoured by the deepest melancholy, as they could never hope for a return of love
from her, for when the Queen had granted the vain
fairy's foolish request she had decreed, to punish her,
that only a mortal could inspire her daughter with love,
and this could never happen, for all men who beheld
her died immediately from the effects of her unearthly
beauty. Ah! my son," concluded his mother, "thus
would you die, and I could not save you."
When Saladin had heard this narrative he felt the
truth of it in his heart, and, sinking into a mournful
reverie, he considered whether it would be worse to pass
his whole life in unsatisfied longings or to die a sudden
but delicious death at the sight of his loved one.
In the mean while the night had been wearing on,
and the stars began to fade in the heavens.  The
horses, grouped together on the sand outside of the
grove, became restless, and tossed their heads and
pawed the ground, for the morning wind that blew
cheerily across the plain chilled them.
" My time is up," the mother said to her son, " and
I rtust flee back to the spot where the simoom overtook
and covered me. Will you follow me, my son, and
wait beside my grave until another night brings us
here again, or will you remain here and await my
return'




THE PRINCESS MORGANA.            127
However willing the young man might have been to
follow his mother, you can readily imagine that he
preferred to remain at least near his beloved one, whom
he promised, however, he would make no attempt to
see. The lady smiled sadly, saying, "Your will may
be strong, my son, but your desire to see the Princess
might make you forget my words, so take my veil,
shroud your face in its folds, and it will keep you from
all harm."
She then pressed his hand once more and glided
gently away, often looking back and motioning to him
not to follow her.
Saladin had taken the veil from her hand, and, as
she had requested, threw it over his head, when, to his
surprise, he suddenly felt an unconquerable weariness
pervade his limbs. He had to lie down upon the
mossy bank, and, after striving for a few moments
against the stupor which seemed creeping over him, he
lay there motionless as a dead man. It was no genuine
sleep that thus overpowered him, for he saw plainly
everything that went on around him, and yet not as if
it really took place, but as though it existed only in his
thoughts. He saw how his mother went back to the
caravan, how she mounted her steed and sped away,
surrounded by her slaves, how their forms hovered over
the sand like gray and black veils, which grew brighter
in the dawn, and before long the whole train of the
spirit-caravan vanished on the distant horizon. He lay
there quiet, and, exhausted as he was after his night
of watching, he longed for sleep, which soon came to
him.
In the mean time the day broke. The sun arose it




128       THE PRINCESS MORGANA.
the heavens, gilding the tops of the palms and sycamores under which Saladin slept. Although his sleep
was deep, he was conscious in spite of it of a motion
like that of a vessel rocked gently by the waves upon
the sea.  It was a sea of sand upon which he was
floating, and his ship was the oasis, the phantom Fata
Morgana, which glides daily over the sand, and like
the human heart finds no rest.
Suddenly, in the midst of his sleep, it seemed to
the young man that he heard a low rustling in the
bushes, together with light footsteps approaching. He
tried to open his eyes, and although he succeeded in
doing so he did not awaken fully, as one does from
healthy slumber, but found himself in the state in
which he had been after his mother left him in the
morning and he had drawn her veil over his head. He
saw everything in a softened light. The lurid colour
of the sand seemed to him a pale yellow, and he could
even look into the fiery sun without being dazzled by
its rays.
But who can describe his astonishment and rapture
when he looked around him and perceived the form of
a maiden, who, lost in thought, was wandering in the
grove, and who now approached him,-his rapture,
indeed, for he recognized in this enchanting, fairy-like
form the Princess Morgana, just as she appeared in his
picture? Her gaze, too, was directed towards the
ground, and although Saladin had heard his mother's
words, that the gaze of this beautiful vision was deadly,
he forgot them all now, and fervently prayed the
Prophet to grant him but one look from that heavenly
countenance, of which he would willingly die.




THE PRINCESS MORGANA.              129
The Princess had approached quite near to him, when
she suddenly raised her head and started with surprise
at sight of a strange youth.
Whatever Saladin had heard, or learned from his picture, of her charms was far exceeded by the reality. At
the glance with which the Princess regarded him he
seemed about to sicken anew. His blood coursed madly
through his veins, and it was as though death alone
could quench the fire kindled within him  by that
glance. But, thanks to his dead mother's veil, the brilliancy of the beauty which beamed forth upon him was
softened as well as the dazzling fire of the sun, and he
was thus saved from the fate which would have befallen
any other mortal.
The Princess on her part was not a little astounded
at seeing that the handsome young man lay there motionless. She departed after a few moments, not without looking back at him  several times to convince
herself that he was not dead, as he still did not move.
The desire to ascertain whether he were living must
have haunted the Princess Morgana through the day,
for Saladin saw to his great delight that she frequently
came and gazed at him. And he found by the beating
of his heart that the agony that had almost killed
him at the first sight of the Princess was less each time
that he saw her, and towards evening, when she came,
he was conscious only of an accelerated throbbing in
his left side, such as other men experience when they
approach the objects of their affections.
The sun again sank to rest, and the night slowly
drew nigh, and, when darkness reigned in the desert,
the same bewildering revelry was held in the oasis as
I




130       THE PRINCESS MORGANA.
upon the previous night. The water in the fountains
and streams shone with many colours and illumined the
trees and palaces with a magic brilliancy.  Music
sounded from afar, and Saladin instantly felt that the
invisible fetters in which he had lain bound were
loosened, and that he could move once more. He
sprang up from his grassy couch, and his first thought
was to hasten to the interior of the island, seek out the
Princess Morgana, and, throwing himself at her feet,
confess his passion. But he remembered in time his
mother's words, and therefore determined to await her
return.
He soon descried afar in the desert the spiritcaravan, as it approached, and in a few moments the
ghostly horsemen thronged in, hastily left their steeds
and camels, and sought the interior of the island, where
reigned the riotous mirth of the preceding night. And
Saladin's mother also appeared and hastened joyfully
towards her son when she perceived him safe and well
in the spot where she had left him. He hurriedly informed her that the Princess had appeared before him
several times during the day, that his love for her had
increased a thousandfold, and that on the morrow no
power upon earth should withhold him from throwing
himself at her feet.
"Ah! mother," he sighed, "who knows whether fate
does not decree that I shall win her love and be the
happiest of men? If your veil has preserved me from
suddenly dying at sight of her beauty, I have also become somewhat accustomed to its beams, and tomorrow I will endeavour to behold her even though I
perish in the attempt."




THE PRINCESS MORGANA.             13!
In vain were the prayers and entreaties of his mother.
Love for the beautiful princess had become too mighty
in the young man's breast. He understood perfectly
that it was a question of life or death, but when his
mother, upon her departure in the gray dawn, left her
veil again, he accepted it indeed, but took great care
not to wrap it around his head as before.
Waiting and hoping, he sat there longing for the
break of day. The sun again rose high in the heavens,
and, earnestly as he had longed to see the Princess,
now that the wished-for time had come, he delayed
and lingered minute after minute, so that some time
elapsed before he sought the interior of the oasis.
How tall and stately were the trees here, and what a
fresh green covered the ground! He had never seen
anything like it,-the clear streams gurgled over silver
sands, and the fountains cooled the air. And how
beautiful were the graceful palaces and pavilions by
which he passed! This must be Paradise indeed. Whereever he turned his gaze a new and enchanting prospect
greeted him. Light and shade, trees and water, with
stately edifices, combined to form the most delicious
variety. Suddenly Saladin felt by the beating of his
heart that he was approaching the object of his search.
He stood still for a moment, and his breath came quick.
Yes, he saw through the trees the fountain which he
had gazed at so many thousand times in his picture,
and by its brink sat the Princess, her head on her hand,
as in the portrait.
With faltering steps he drew near, and overcome
either by sudden weakness or by uncontrollable love, he
sank on one knee, scarcely daring to raise his eyes.




132        THE PRINCESS MORGANA.
Thus he remained before her for a few moments, when
the Princess raised her head and shrieked loudly, as she
saw the young man kneeling at her feet. Oh! that he
had had his mother's veil over his eyes to dim for a
moment the full blaze of her beauty! Although he had
become somewhat accustomed to it the day before, he
could not bear it to-day, and sank confused and half
unconscious at the feet of his loved one.
When after a few moments he returned to full consciousness and opened his eyes he saw, to his unspeakable delight, that she was bending over him, regarding
him with an anxious expression. Although he closed
his eyes again, he could feel plainly that, instead of the
devouring flame which had before threatened his ruin,
a gentle glow inspired his frame. He seized the hand
of the Princess, pressed it to his heart, and stammered
forth the words, "Ah! may the Prophet grant me a
few more moments of existence, that I may tell you
how deeply I love you i"
The Princess appeared no less rejoiced than Saladin,
and, could you have seen how her eyes gazed into his,
you would not have doubted that a sudden love for the
young man had sprung up within her, and that the
Fairy Queen's spell was broken. For although the
Princess Morgana's beauty was, and continued to be,
so eminent and distinguished, that nothing like it could
be found in the world,-yet the devouring flame in her
eyes changed, from the moment when she gave Saladin
her heart, into an enlivening glow that cheered all
who looked at her.
They loved each other deeply and truly, and you
can easily imagine what a blissful day they passed in




"He saw, to his unspeakable delight, that she was bending over him
regarding him with an anxious expression."
Page 132.








THE PRINCESS MORGANA.              133
the lovely oasis. When it was gone, and the night
approached, the Princess arose from her lover's side to
withdraw, as she said, to her own apartments.
"0 my beloved," said she, "I must inform my
mother, who grieves over her daughter's fate, of
the happiness that the Prophet has granted me in
sending you to me. My messenger will be swift,
and, although she is thousands of miles away, he will
return before daybreak and bring me permission to
leave this lonely oasis and go with you whithersoever
you will."
After these words she withdrew herself gently from
the young man's arms and vanished in the grove,
whither Saladin forbore to follow her.
He awaited nightfall with impatience, that he might
tell his mother of his good fortune. Before long the
spirit-caravan arrived, and his mother hastened to
the arbour, overjoyed to find her son again safe. But
greater still was her delight when Saladin related the
events of the day, and how he had been blessed by
the love of the Princess Morgana. He told his mother
that he should probably leave the oasis on the morrow
to return, with his beloved one, to the haunts of men,
and spoke of his distress in seeing her for the last time,
to-day. She comforted him, begging him not to forget
her, and to perform  in memory of his mother the
burial service accorded to all true believers, that her
soul might enter in and partake of the joys of Paradise,
and no longer be obliged to join the spirit-caravan
every night.
Saladin promised this, with many tears, and when
the dawn came his mother blessed him and calmly parted
12




134       THE PRINCESS MORGANA.
from him. She mounted her steed and glided away
with the caravan for the last time. Saladin followed
her long with his eyes, while he inwardly prayed the
Prophet to have mercy on her soul.
Scarcely had the rising sun crimsoned the tops of the
trees and played upon the gilded roofs of the palaces,
when the young man heard from the interior of the
oasis a confused noise of human voices, with the neighing of horses and the unpacking of camels. He instantly arose from his mossy seat and went towards the
grove. He thought at first that the spirit-caravan had
returned, and his joy was all the greater when, stepping
out upon an open square in the centre of the oasis, he
beheld another caravan, composed of men, camels, and
horses. Still greater was his delight when the Princess
Morgana approached from the other side of the square,
surrounded and followed by a throng of waiting-women
and slaves, among whom she shone forth brighter than
the moon among the stars.
She stepped up to the young man, and, giving him
her hand, turned to her companions and said to them,
as well as to the whole caravan, "Behold your lord I"
whereupon the women waved their veils, and the men
gave a joyful shout.
"Beloved," then said the Princess to Saladin, "my
mother rejoices in her daughter's good fortune, and the
camels laden with treasure, which you see here, she
sends for my dowry. Each of them is heavily laden
with gold and silver, and would alone suffice to enrich
a man for life."
Then the Princess beckoned with her hand, and
black slaves brought two splendid Arabian chargers,




THE PRINCESS MORGANA.             I35
upon one of which she mounted, while Saladin took
the other. They placed themselves at the head of the
train, which now proceeded into the desert. When
they had left the beautiful oasis, with its fresh waving
green and its clear waters, behind them, the Princess
and her husband turned their horses, and both uttered a
gentle farewell to the place where they had found each
other and been so happy. Ah! it was an eternal farewell. For when their feet had once left this green
island they might return thither never again. They
beheld with surprise the oasis leave the spot where it
had rested, and float farther and farther away over the
sand. They soon saw it on the distant horizon, just as
it is still seen by travellers on clear days. The palms
tremble and wave, the waters glisten, and the outline
of the Fata Morgana grows dim and blends with the
sand and sky, so that one cannot say exactly where it
begins and where it ends,-an image of love in the
human heart.
Amid the sound of small drums and the blowing of
large horns the caravan pursued its way through the
desert.
Let us now return to the aged Ismael and the caravan in which Saladin had begun his journey into the
desert.
When the morning dawned after the night in which
Saladin had left his old servant, Ismael awakened from
a deep and sound slumber. He looked around him
amazed when he saw his master's couch empty, but suspected nothing at first, supposing that Saladin had left
the tent early to enjoy the fresh morning. But when,




136       THE PRINCESS MORGANA.
at the end of an hour, he did not return, the old man
left the tent himself and noticed that his master's horse
also was missing. When the train at last began its
march, and Saladin had not yet appeared, Ismael became anxious, and, searching through the throng, asked
if any one of the sentinels had seen the youth.
But no one knew anything of him or could relieve
Ismael from his anxiety. "Ah!" thought the old man
to himself, "whither can he have gone? What can have
lured him into the desert, where certain death awaits
him?"  The thought that, in the madness of his
passion, Saladin had left the caravan to wander alone
in the desert, in a vain search for the original of the
ill-omened picture, filled the mind of the faithful
servant with distress, and when the next day and the
next brought no news of him, he became convinced that
his master was alone in the wilderness. How gladly
would he have followed him,-but whither should he
turn his footsteps? So the faithful old man had to
remain with the caravan, returning sad and dejected to
Damascus, where a new misfortune awaited him, for
the slaves that the Caliph had presented to him, weary
of serving one whom they considered their equal, decamped one morning with the remaining horses and
all the money, so that nothing was left the unfortunate man but the clothes upon his back and a few
pieces of gold which he had carried in his girdle.
What should he do now? His wisest course seemed
to be to return with the caravan to Bagdad, for he
believed sincerely that his young master, should he
yet survive, would seek that city, where he might
find his old servant.  He therefore hired an old




THE PRINCESS MORGANA.            I3
camel, and after a sad and wearisome journey arrived
at Bagdad.
If the people in the bazaars and streets had forgotten
the evil stories that they had circulated concerning old
Ismael and the young man, the return of the caravan
reminded them of them again, and they asked what had
become of the old rogue. With malicious satisfaction
they heard that the young man had escaped from the
old one, who, poor and ragged, had returned alone
upon an old, shabby camel.
" Don't you see," cried the barber at the great Caravanserai, "don't you see that I was right? Yes, yes,
the Prophet, in his mercy, punishes sinners through
their own crimes. The old fellow thought to deceive
the Caliph and has been in his turn befooled by the
young thief.  God protect our Caliph, Haroun al
Raschid! For the future he will be more prudent."
Poor Ismael, who knew nothing of all the evil that
had been said about him, was no sooner within the
walls of Bagdad than he repaired to the court-yard of
the palace, that he might throw himself at the feet
of the Caliph, who was soon to issue from the palace
on his way to the mosque.
He had not waited here long when the Grand Vizier
rode through the gate on his way to his master. No
sooner did the Vizier perceive the old man than, with
knitted brows, he commanded the captain of the guard
to take him into custody, a command which, to Ismael's dismay, was executed on the spot. Two soldiers
took him between them and thrust him into one of the
dungeons of the palace, where he was left until the
following day.
I2*




,38       THE PRINCESS MORGANA.
The unhappy Ismael, who had lately undergone so
many misfortunes, received this imprisonment as a trial
whereby the Prophet wished to prove him. Besides,
he had no doubt that he had been mistaken for somebody else, as he was entirely unconscious of all offence.
After passing the night in prison, revolving many things
sadly in his mind, he was conducted, the next morning,
before the Caliph, whom he found alone with his Grand
Vizier, in his apartment,-but they no longer regarded
him with the same friendliness as upon his first interview with the Commander of the Faithful.
Haroun al Raschid frowned as he entered, and the
Grand Vizier commanded him to draw near.
"Who art thou?" began Abdallah. To this question the old man joyfully replied, "Ah, my lord, I
have the honor of being already known to you,-I
am Ismael, the servant of Abou el Deri."
The poor fellow still believed that they were mistaken
in his person, and that he was suffering in place of
another. But what was his terror when the Vizier
continued, in a wrathful voice, "How! Do you still
dare insult the presence of your lord and Caliph with
such falsehoods? Abou el Deri was a faithful Mussulman, and did not choose deceivers and thieves for his
servants."
"Oh, sir," replied Ismael, "what are you saying?
I am a poor old man, sorely beset by misfortune, but,
by my faith in the Prophet, I have never stolen the
worth of a piastre, and never spoken an untruth."
"Listen, Ismael," said the kind-hearted Caliph.
"Your denial can avail you nothing,-rather confess
your roguery, that I may show myself merciful to you."




THE PRINCESS MORGANA.             139
"What, then, can I confess?" cried the old man,
throwing himself upon his knees before the Caliph.
"First," began the Grand Vizier again, "who was
the young man whom you represented as the son of
Abou el Deri, and where is he now?"
"Ah, sir, the young Saladin," replied the old
man,-" he was the foster-son of Abou el Deri, but
where he now is, is known only to Allah and His Prophet."
"Do you persist, then," rejoined the Vizier, "in
your falsehoods? Then I must tell you the truth, that
you may know we have discovered your tricks and
have not imprisoned you unlawfully.  The young
rogue whom you palmed upon us as Abou el Deri's
foster-son, and upon whom my generous master, the
Caliph, showered his favour in consequence of your
cunning fictions, was as little the son as you were the
servant of Abou el Deri. He never was even found as
an infant in the desert and brought up by you, but you
took him from the shop of a barber and instructed him
that he might impose upon the Caliph."
Ismael did not at first know what to say to this accusation, the last that he could have expected. As
soon as he recovered from the first shock of fright he
affirmed, by the beard of the Prophet, and by all else
holy, that the Vizier was wrong, and that Saladin was
really the son of Abou el Deri. But of what avail were
his oaths and protestations? Of what avail was his minute description of his journey from the time of leaving
Bagdad to the night when he lost his young master?
Neither Caliph nor Grand Vizier believed him, and
when he had finished, Abdallah clapped his hands and




T40       THE PRINCESS MORGANA.
commanded the barber of the great Caravanserai to be
brought in.
The barber repeated his declaration that the young
man to whom, under the name of Saladin, the Caliph
had shown such favour, had been one of his assistants
and had run away from him a few months before. And
then he added, with a side glance at Ismael, " Commander of the Faithful, all men are liable to err, but it
seems to me as if often during the time that my knavish
servant was with me I have seen this old man conferring with him, probably as to the means of imposing
upon your Highness's benevolence."
The Caliph heard these assertions with a gloomy
brow, and when the barber had finished he said to the
old man: "Hearken, Ismael, I am sorry that I have
discovered you in this villany, and however I might
desire to let you go unpunished, justice demands that
evil deeds should not go unrewarded. But, as I will
not unite accuser and judge in one person, you shall be
taken before the Cadi of my city of Bagdad, and he
shall pronounce sentence upon you, after a due examination of the circumstances."
Then Ismael was remanded to prison and the next
day carried before the Cadi, where the barber repeated
all that he had said the day before, and the supreme
judge of the city of Bagdad decided that Ismael was
guilty of the fault whereof he was accused-namely, of
imposing upon the Caliph with vile fabrications-and
sentenced him to receive five hundred blows upon the
soles of his feet and be imprisoned for ten years. As
a special favour, the judge reprieved him for three




THE PRINCESS MORGANA.            141
days, within which time the young man might perhaps
return and prove his innocence
The Caliph's clemency also revoked the five hundred
blows upon the soles of his feet. But when the three
days passed and no Saladin appeared, Ismael was sent
to prison, and employed with thieves and murderers to
row the galleys upon the Tigris and to perform similar
hard labour.
To this misery the unfortunate man had been brought
as much by his fidelity to his old and young master
as by the rashness of the latter. He rejoiced that in
the course of nature he should not thus innocently
endure this severe punishment many years. For the
first time now he thought gladly of his age, and
looked upon death as a benefactor who would relieve
him from all his woes. It pained him deeply that the
good Caliph really believed him guilty, and he would
willingly have endured a much more severe punishment
if it would have enabled him to convince Haroun al
Raschid and his Vizier of his innocence.  He still
cherished a faint hope that his young master might return, perhaps successful, and establish his innocence in
the most satisfactory manner. But day after day and
week after week passed away, and Ismael hoped and
waited in vain.
It happened one morning that he was occupied with
some of his fellow-prisoners in towing a great ship
out to sea. The heat of the day was most oppressive,
and the poor prisoners were permitted now and then to
cease working and repose in the shade of the trees
which grew upon the shore. Here lay Ismael, gazing
out into the distance, when he saw a large and wealthy




142        THE PRINCESS MORGANA.
caravan approaching the city of Bagdad from afar. At
sight of the heavily-laden camels and the multitude of
slaves, he was reminded vividly of the times when in
just such a brilliant train he had wandered gaily through
the land with his master, Abou el Deri.
In the mean time the caravan drew nearer, and
Ismael, as well as the other prisoners, was obliged to
confess that he had not for a long time seen so magnificent a train. The camels were all of uncommon
beauty and strength, and laden in the carefullest and
richest manner. The multitude of slaves seemed countless, all riding powerful and beautiful horses, and their
apparel was so splendid that they might have been
taken for the masters of the train, if the owners themselves, as they rode in the midst of the procession, had
not attracted all eyes by the splendour of their garments and the beauty of their horses. Here too could
be seen a great number of female slaves, all surrounding
a beautiful lady, and the brightness of their gold-embroidered dresses and veils was so great that the eye
could scarcely bear it.
Ismael turned away his head and went sighing to his
hard labour, while the caravan with great pomp entered
Bagdad.
Although the poor slave had often before seen caravans pass by, none had ever excited his imagination as
this had done, and when after weary hours of labour
he was permitted, with his fellow-prisoners, to rest
on the shores of the Tigris, he employed himself in
building the most lovely castles in the air, thinking," Oh! if my young master would only return with such
a splendid train and release me,-if he would only pre



THE PRINCESS MORGANA.            143
sent himself before the Caliph Haroun al Raschid,
leading by the hand the beautiful Princess Morganaa living witness that I have spoken the truth,-and
asking what had become of his faithful servant Ismael."
Such were his thoughts while he ate his coarse fare,
when suddenly the overseer of the prisoners, accompanied by two slaves, came riding hastily up, and commanded the old man to follow him.
Ismael, fearing at first that the Cadi of Bagdad
had again sentenced him to receive the five hundred
lashes, for he could think of no other reason why they
should send for such a poor old man, accompanied
the overseer to his dwelling with a sad heart, and was
not a little surprised when, upon his arrival there, his
old clothes were taken from him and he was provided
with a good caftan and a clean turban. To his questions the only reply of the overseer was that he had
orders to take him immediately before the Caliph. This
intelligence the old man received with joy, for what
could the generous Caliph want him for except to show
him mercy! " Perhaps," he thought, "my innocence
is made clear, or it may be my young master has
returned."  But he could not dwell upon this last
thought,-it was too great and bewildering.
When they arrived at the palace of the Caliph,
Ismael was conducted to an antechamber, where the
Grand Vizier himself came towards him, and gave him
his hand, saying, in a voice full of emotion, "Ismael,
in our blindness we have done you great injustice, but
the Prophet, who has brought your innocence to light,
will reward you richly. Follow me to the Caliph."
Trembling with delight, the faithful old servant fol



i44       THE PRINCESS MORGANA.
lowed the Vizier into the next apartment. Here he
remained standing at the door, with his eyes cast
down, not daring to look in the face of Haroun al
Raschid. But when the Commander of the Faithful
called him by name in a friendly tone, he looked up,
and who shall describe his joy when he perceived his
young master, whom he had so long thought dead,
and who now, springing forward, fell weeping upon
his neck?
The old man was quite overcome when Saladin related his adventures to him, and then, taking him by
the hand, presented him to his wife, the Princess Morgana. The narrative was so wonderful, and the beauty
of the princess so dazzling, that all things grew dark
before Ismael's eyes, and he was obliged to lean upon
a divan lest he should fall upon the ground.
Now there was rejoicing everywhere. The young
Saladin built himself a splendid palace upon the banks
of the Tigris, and lived there with his beautiful wife
and his faithful servants, greatly beloved by every one
for his generosity and kindness of heart, and highly
honoured by the Caliph for his nobility of disposition
and his various good qualities.
And as by Ismael's release a place was left vacant
among the imprisoned criminals, the Caliph ordered
that it should be filled by the malicious barber, who
received the five hundred blows upon the soles of his
feet that had at first been awarded to the faithful
servant.




CASTLE SILENCE.
IN those old times whence most of our beautiful le
gends and stories have come down to us, the widespreading fields upon both banks of the Neckar were
not, as in these days, waving with grain and blossoming
with fruits and flowers. The hills were covered with
dark and almost impenetrable forests, and were only
here and there crowned with the grim, frowning battlements of some castle, whose walls are still standing
perhaps, a monument of former years.  But these
gloomy piles whose towers and windows are now
wreathed with graceful ivy, once resounded with the
bustle and noise of an existence far different from any
that we are nowadays acquainted with.  Instead of
the merry song of the vine-tender or the rattle of
wagons driven to the fields to return laden with golden
grain, the man-at-arms, clad in steel, looked abroad
from those battlements, and heard only at times the
rustle of a herd of deer in the thicket below or the
blow of the axe levelling some mighty monarch of
the forest. The Neckar, flowing clearly then as now
among the surrounding mountains, saw no busy cities
and happy villages upon its banks, bounded by meadows
and clothed with long grass, through which might be
traced the paths worn by the deer that came down to
the river to drink.
About a mile from the river was a beautiful valley,
shut in by protecting mountains, where a solemn
K              13           ( 45)




146            CASTLE SILENCE.
and yet attractive solitude reigned,-a quiet, peaceful vale, retired enough to escape the notice of
the traveller journeying along the highways, and yet
extensive enough  o afford those who should dwell
there an ample and refreshing variety of wood and
field, meadow, brook, and glen, for it was abundantly watered by crystal streams from the encircling
mountains.
From  these mountains, ascending gently from the
valley, there was a wide prospect over the country
around; the winding course of the Neckar could be
traced among the forests beneath until it was lost in
the distant hills, which were overtopped by the lofty
range bounding the horizon. But those who most enjoyed this beautiful prospect would have been glad to
descend again into the valley, for it was far more beautiful than any other in the land. Even the deer of the
forest bore witness to its beauty. Although the shade
of the lofty oaks upon the mountains might tempt them
to wander thither during the day, they always returned
to the valley, as to a peaceful home, at the approach
of evening.
Yet, in spite of all the gifts lavished by nature
upon this fair spot, it was uninhabited by any human
being,-nay, it was actually avoided by every dweller in
the country around. When the huntsmen and pages
from the castles in its neighbourhood, in the ardour of
the chase, pursued their game to the borders of this
lovely valley, they never followed their wished-for
prize within its limits, but let it escape unmolested.
Sometimes, indeed, the younger and more inexperienced of the train would follow with longing eyes




CASTLE SILENCE.                147
the bounding stag, and attempt to pursue it,-but they
were always restrained by the older and wiser huntsmen, who would relate to them, if they had never
heard it, the old legend which, handed down among
the people for many years, had caused the valley
to be avoided with horror by all, and the least intrusion upon it to be regarded as foolhardy in the
extreme.
These old vassals and foresters had heard from their
parents, and could tell from their own experience,
of some few people who, actuated by curiosity, had
descended into this valley, but had never returned.
They had, indeed, been seen wandering about below
there, and had even approached quite near the woodmen at work on the surrounding heights, but in no
instance had they recrossed the exact boundary of the
valley, and to questions addressed to them they replied
only by a mournful shake of the head, while they
pointed, as though dumb, to their lips.
When some old hunter, in the mid-day rest, under
one of the spreading oaks that crowned the hills around,
had recounted such a tale, he would lead his youthful auditors to a spot where the forest was less dense
than elsewhere, and bid them look down. And when
they did so, they saw, to their astonishment, a stately
castle, whose exterior was in such excellent preservation
that one might believe it to be inhabited. The windows shone in the sunlight, the drawbridges were down,
the walls were without flaw and strongly built, and even
the weathercocks upon the turrets looked as if they had
lately been placed there.
But a dreary quiet reigned within these walls and in




148           CASTLE SILENCE.
the surrounding park. The water in the lake looked
like painted water, the leaves of the trees did not rustle, and none of the birds flying around uttered a single
note.
And the same mysterious silence pervaded the whole
valley. The deer made no sound. No song of bird
was ever heard within its borders. Everything was
quiet and still. No one was ever seen to issue from the
castle to connect it with the outside world. And therefore the foresters and woodmen from the neighbouring
castles, who sometimes passed by and looked down
into the valley, in going to and from their daily avocations, had from time immemorial given it the name of
"Castle Silence."
And there was an old legend among the people regarding both castle and valley. According to this
story, hundreds of years ago there lived here a powerful
king, who had a wondrously lovely daughter. But the
maiden had made the strangest vow. She had sworn
never to marry any one who would survive her, that is,
who would not promise, if she died first, to be buried
alive in the same grave with her. On account of her
vow, which was well known in all the country around,
no one dared to sue for the hand of the princess, and
with deep chagrin she saw that time would bring waning charms, but no lover enthusiastic enough to fulfil
the condition which she imposed upon her husband.
It happened, however, that the son of a neighbouring king saw her one day, and became so madly
in love with her that he cared for nothing in the
world beside. He besought her hand of the king,
her father, who answered his suit with "Whoever mar



CASTLE SILENCE.               I49
ries my daughter must not fear being buried alive," and
then reminded him of the vow that the princess had
made. But the young man's love was so strong that he
despised all danger, and instantly promised all that was
required of him. So the marriage was celebrated with
great pomp and magnificence.
The pair lived contented and happy for awhile
together, when suddenly the princess fell ill,-so ill
that no skill availed to cure her, and she died. And
when she lay dead the young prince remembered with
horror the promise that he had given, and that he must
actually be buried alive. The old king, fearing that
his son-in-law might try to escape the fulfilment of his
promise, placed guards about the gates of the palace,
and declared to the young man that he must do what
he had sworn.
When the day came upon which the corpse was laid
in the royal tomb, the prince also descended into it,
and the door of the vault was locked and bolted. Beside the coffin was placed a table, and upon it four
loaves of bread and four bottles of wine,-when these
were consumed the wretched prince must starve to
death. There he sat by the open coffin, plunged in
woe and horror, eating only a small piece of bread and
drinking only a mouthful of wine daily, pondering
upon his fast approaching end.
Sitting thus, it happened one day that he saw a
snake creep forth out of a corner of the vault, and
glide up to the coffin.  Thinking that the snake
wished to injure the dead princess, he drew his sword
and cut the reptile into four pieces, crying out, "As
13*




50           CASTLE SILENCE.
long as I live thou shalt not touch her."  After
awhile he saw a second snake creep from the corner,
which, seeing the other lie mangled and dead upon
the ground, crept quickly back again, and brought
out three silver rings in its mouth. It then took the
four pieces of the dead snake, and, fitting them together as in life, drew over each wound one of the
rings. Soon the mangled snake moved again and came
to life, when they both glided swiftly away. But the
hole through which they had entered was scarcely large
enough for their bodies,-in returning, the resuscitated
serpent slipped off the three rings and left them lying
upon the ground behind him.
The prince, who had observed all this with the
greatest astonishment, thought, "What wondrous properties must these rings possess! Why can they not
restore a human being to life as well as a snake?"
He picked up the rings and laid them, one upon
the mouth and one upon each eye of his dead wife.
Soon the blood began to stir within her and mounted
into her face, flushing her pale cheeks, and then, to the
unbounded joy of the prince, she opened her eyes and
cried, "Ah! Heaven! where am I?"  "With me,
dearest wife," replied the enraptured husband. And
then he gave her bread and wine to strengthen her, and
told her what had happened, and how he had restored
her to life. The princess arose, and the prince knocked
so loudly at the door of the vault that the guards
stationed there heard him and went and told the king,
who came himself and opened the door. What was his
surprise and joy to find his children standing there, safe
and well! He conducted them forth with rejoicing




CeASTLE SILENCE.              15
that this great trial had been so happily concluded.
The young prince strung the three rings carefully upon
a riband and hung them around his own neck.
But it seemed as though the heart of the princess,
which had formerly been faithful and true, had become
changed and corrupt since she had been recalled to life
by means of the serpent rings, for after a short time
she conceived a violent passion for one of the knights
of her father's court, and together they plotted to
deprive the young prince of life. With this aim the
princess induced her husband to hunt with her one
day in the darkest and loneliest recesses of the
forest, when she left him, as if by accident, having
stationed assassins in his path who were to fall upon
him and put him to death. But, although his assailants
were numerous, the prince, through the power of the
rings, was endowed with such wonderful strength that
he overcame and slew them all, and returned to his
wife unhurt. And, when he told her of what had happened to him, and she pretended to be overjoyed at
his escape from the murderous assaults of the assassins,
he imprudently confided to her that as long as the
rings were in his possession no harm could befall him.
The wicked woman therefore, when the old king was
absent from home one day, prepared a sleeping draught
for her husband, and invited him to take a sail with her
upon the deep lake spread out in front of the palace.
Scarcely were the prince and princess, with the knight,
her lover, seated in the skiff, when the prince fell into
a deep sleep. The princess then took a pair of scissors
and cut the silken riband upon which the rings were
strung, that she might take them from her husb4r4's




152            CASTLE SILENCE.
neck. But her hands trembled so that the rings slipped
through her fingers and sank into the deep lake. At
the same moment the wicked knight fell upon the unfortunate prince and threw him from the boat into the
water, beneath which he disappeared and was seen no
more. But scarcely was the ghastly deed accomplished
when all the bewildering enchantment seemed to fall
away from the princess,-she loathed herself for her
wickedness, and threw herself upon her knees in utter
despair. And when she returned to the palace she
hastened to the king, her father, and confessed her
crime. And the old king said, "If thou hast done
this, there is no hope for thee. Thy husband would
have died for thee, and thou hast murdered him in
his sleep. Thou shalt be rewarded according to thy
deserts."  They carried her out upon the lake and
threw her into it, where she perished miserably. The
old king, her father, died of grief and shame at the
end of three days. But before he died he cursed the
castle, and the valley in which it stood, because of
his daughter's crime, and placed it under a spell so
that neither content nor joy should again abide there
until the spell should be broken.
Thus ran the old legend, and it was rumoured beside
that in the middle of the lake, where the poor prince
disappeared, a plant with black leaves bordered with
blood-red had grown up from the water, and that upon
that water was sometimes to be seen a black swan,
under which form the princess was condemned to repent her cruel crime until the spell should be broken.
But how this was to be done no one knew.
All this had happened long, long ago, and no one




CASTLE SILENCE.               I53
seemed to know very well whether valley and Castle
Silence belonged now to any one. No one troubled
himself about it any longer, and, as the banks of the
Neckar were but thinly peopled, the valley was almost
forgotten. The roads which led to it were overgrown
with grass and underbrush, and huge trees grew there
whose strong branches, interwoven, formed barriers,
like iron gratings, to all the entrances to it.
And yet a certain person was living to whom Castle
Silence belonged of rightful inheritance. But he had
never troubled himself to inquire about this portion of
his estate, and, even when he did so, the account
which he received did not tempt him to visit his neglected possessions. If he had been some old wornout lord who had drunk the cup of life's enjoyment to
the very dregs, and who, weary of the routine of a
court, longed for some solitude where nothing might
remind him of his early folly and frivolity, he might
perhaps have visited his estate here and passed the remainder of his days in the silent valley. But, as it
happened, the lord and master of the estate was a
chivalrous young count, who lived in his stronghold
upon the Danube, where he spent day after day in all
kinds of games and tourneys, and who hated nothing
worse than solitude and silence. In his gay talk with
his friends, in the chase or amid flowing wine-cups, the
conversation often turned upon Castle Silence, and the
young lords did not fail to expend their wit upon so
fruitful a topic. But, although they did not perhaps
give entire credence to the tales concerning the Castle
and valley, yet in those days so much faith was placed
in magic and enchantment that none of those gay




I54            CASTLE SILENCE.
young fellows would venture to brave such a horrible
fate as silence during the rest of their lives.
Count Raymond, as the lord of Castle Silence was
called, much preferred, when once he felt that he
needed change of air, to ride to the court of a neigh.
bouring king, of whom'twas said that not only did
he possess three wondrously beautiful daughters to
adorn his court, but also that it was a rendezvous
for all the brave and noble knights in the world.
So Count Raymond, whose father had left him heir te
many a chest of broad gold pieces, fitted out himself
and his train most magnificently for the journey.
Every one was gay with silk, velvet, and gold,-you
could not have borne to look at the count's breast-plate
when the sun shone upon it, such dazzling rays shot
from the gold workmanship upon its polished steel surface. The bridles of the horses were" studded with
precious stones, the stirrups and bits were of gold,
and the trumpets of the heralds who surrounded the
standard-bearer were of pure silver.
One fine morning the count and his train approached the royal palace, gazed at and admired by
all the lords and nobles assembled there, who were
many in number and brilliant in array, for the king
was celebrating the marriage of his two elder daughters
to two neighbouring princes, and had instituted a
variety of unrivalled entertainments upon the occasion.
When Count Raymond entered the royal hall the
king was seated upon his throne, surrounded by the
entire splendour of his court, to receive his guests. On
either side of him sat his two elder daughters, and,
somewhat in the background, the youngest, who' in her




CASTLE SILENCE.                i55
maidenly reserve shunned the admiring gaze of the
knights present.
That this young princess was still unmarried was not
owing to a scarcity of wooers, for the throng of her
lovers was great, and in truth a lovelier and more attractive vision could scarcely have been imagined.
The heart and mind of the maiden perfectly accorded
with her exterior, and her virtues and good qualities
charmed all around her. Wherever she appeared, all
contention ceased. The hands of the rough knights,
which, in the heat of some sudden quarrel, were laid
upon the hilts of their swords, unclosed and were
placed tenderly upon their beating hearts, at sight of
the princess. Every face brightened and all shade of
sullenness vanished like dark storm-clouds when the
sun's rays shine forth. Therefore this princess was
dearer to her father than all else in the world beside,
and he was glad to find a reason in the multitude of
her wooers for keeping his daughter to himself,-for he
declared that he could not offend so many, as he
should, by resigning her to one. And in truth the
loss of this daughter would have been irreparable, for
no one could cheer him in his gloomy moments as she
could with her winning smile alone.  The royal attendants maintained that her lovely smile and the
gentle words that accompanied it affected the king even
in his sleep, and chased away the painful dreams to
which his majesty was subject during his noonday nap,
for when he was tossing feverishly upon his silken couch
the princess would bend over him and, pressing a soft
kiss upon his brow, whisper to him gently, and the
troubled expression caused by his dreams would pass




I56            CASTLE SILENCE.
away from his countenance and he would sink into a
peaceful slumber.
But we must return to the audience-hall, where the
heralds sounded their silver trumpets in stately flourishes
every time that the master of ceremonies announced a
new title, whose possessor, in rich and shining array,
made a low obeisance as he passed by the throne to be
lost in the crowd surrounding the king and princesses,
to whom, and especially to the youngest, these presentations seemed very tedious. She saw a hundred
knights enter the hall, without paying any attention except to observe whether the colours of the apparel of
one were well chosen, or to remember what a fall another had had upon the sand at the last tourney. She
regarded them all with the same kindliness, and did
not appear even to observe the fiery glances cast upon
her by the rich dukes and princes from the neighbourhood. She certainly gazed with as unembarrassed an
air at each young knight who had donned his gayest
doublet in her honour as upon any old lord whose
long gray beard she had played with while yet a child
in the nurse's arms.
But now the trumpets and bugles sounded anew, and
strange colours appeared at the entrance to the hall. It
was Count Raymond, with his retinue. Brilliant as the
day, tall and graceful as the young fir on the mountain,
he strode up the hall, attracting the gaze of all. He
bent his knee before the king, and begged permission
to break a lance in honour of the newly married
couples, at the approaching tourney and the riding at
the ring. The king welcomed him most graciously,
and the count, as he rose from his knee, proudly con



CASTLE SILENCE.               157
scious of his arm of steel, looked keenly through the
knightly circle in search of some powerful form upon
which to prove his prowess. But, although he began
this search with a bold and somewhat defiant air, his
gaze had travelled but half around the circle surrounding the king, when his glance lost its steadfastness and his commanding features wore an expression
of the deepest submission. He had seen the princess,
who in her turn gazed upon him with admiring surprise,
and for the first time in her life returned the greeting
of a man with embarrassment and a faint blush. It was
a great moment for both, and if the lady in waiting
had not been quite as inexperienced as her mistress,
she would have known well enough why, when the
latter sought her apartments, at the close of the
audience, she was so preoccupied in mind and replied
so at random to the simplest questions.
The poor count was in a still worse condition.
The light that he had seen in the beautiful eyes of the
princess had changed his whole manner of thought and
feeling. He awakened as from a long dream,-the
shining sun just arisen in his heart seemed to banish
the mists which had hitherto veiled all his aims and
pursuits in life. He thought with sorrow and shame
of the many precious hours that he had wasted in the
chase or among roystering companions. His arms and
his steed were now valued by him only because he hoped
through them to win greater honour than ever before,
and by the conquest of every opponent to attract the
notice of the princess. And success crowned his
efforts. His love nerved his already powerful arm, and
there was no tourney held at the royal court in which
14




158           CASTLE SILENCE.
Count Raymond did not win the prize of victory.
Almost every knight engaged could bear witness to the
strength of his arm, for in these mimic fights a noble
rage took possession of him, and all whom his spear
touched were hurled to the ground. If the festivities
had lasted many days longer the palace would have
been a perfect hospital, and few knights would have
been in a condition to join the torch-dance on the last
day.
But, in spite of all these heroic deeds, Count Raymond
had never been so utterly vanquished as now. The
fetters which bound him were strong indeed, and wrung
from him many a bitter sigh. Ah  it was only in the
tourney that our brave count was a hero. When he returned to his apartment and took off his heavy armour,
he sank down upon his couch, sighing and sending
many a longing glance to the opposite windows of the
royal castle, behind which was his life, his sun. And
the princess, too, gazed far oftener from her windows
than had been her wont, and for a long time her attendants could not understand what their mistress
found so attractive in the old walls opposite these windows. She was strangely altered, too, and no longer
looked upon all around her with her former unembarrassed air, but sat sometimes for a long while with her
eyes cast down, buried in thought, blushing when Count
Raymond entered the room where she was, and growing
pale when he was spoken of,-in short, the princess
was in love.
At first the pair had no one to whom they could confide their woes. This penalty all high in rank must
pay. Even when, in some lonely hour, the count inter.




CASTLE SILENCE.                59
preted to his advantage a look, a smile, of the princess, the next would overthrow all his air-castles,-he
could not believe in the happiness of being beloved
by her,-he was the most wretched of mortals. And
although in one way the princess was happier than he,
-for she could not fail to see in Raymond's air and
manner what he felt for her,-yet she was unhappier in
another way, for she had to keep the strictest watch
over every word and action, lest in some unguarded
moment she should betray the state of her loving heart
to her father and sisters, or to the count himself.
Raymond, however, had one confidential friend at
the court,-a true and faithful knight, who had made
several pilgrimages to the Holy Land. To him one fine
morning the count told the whole story of his love.
At first his friend was startled at the thought of his
temerity in raising his eyes to the king's daughter, but,
as he knew how unruly and unbidden a guest is love, he
promised the count all the aid in his power, and soon
found means to discover that the princess had enshrined
his friend's image in her heart of hearts. This knowledge, in the possession of which Count Raymond was at
first almost beside himself, removed many an obstacle to
the meeting of the lovers, and in a short time they saw
each other, freed from the presence of the whole court.
The count threw himself at the princess's feet and swore
that he could not live without her, and amid sighs and
tears she gave him her hand, and in secret accepted
him for her own true knight. And yet not much was
gained by all this, for, although in moments of visionary and enthusiastic hope the count dreamed that some
day the king would consent to his marriage with his




x60            CASTLE SILENCE.
youngest and best-loved daughter, cooler consideration
told him  how vain were such dreams, and the two
lovers admitted to each other that they stood on the
brink of a yawning abyss which neither could devise
means to fill up or bridge across.
And so indeed they stood. No sooner did the king
hear, from those busy tongues belonging to the prying
eyes and ears found at every court, that an understanding of some sort existed between his daughter
and Count Raymond, than he became very angry,
and sent for the princess to talk with her alone. He
found that the case was much worse than he had
feared, and that his daughter was actually wavering
between love for her father and the faith she had
plighted to the count. As a union of the lovers was
the last thing thought of by the king in his surprise,
he merely observed to the count, in an interview that
he immediately had with him, that his distant estates
must be suffering from the prolonged absence of their
lord, and Raymond, perfectly understanding this hint,
and shocked and heart-broken, sorrowfully took his
leave, recommending himself to the future grace of the
king.
One can easily imagine the emotions with which the
count returned to his apartments after this interview,
and informed his friend of the death-blow that had
been given to his hopes. His pride would not allow
him to stay one day longer at court, and the worst was
that he had no opportunity of again seeing the princess
alone. He left for her his farewell and a renewal of
his vows of constancy with his faithful friend, and only
by the colours of his dress and scarf could he express




CASTLE SILENCE.               x61
his feelings to his beloved, as she gazed after him from
her windows.
So the next morning he departed, the bugles of his
heralds mournfully sounding the air: "There's rest in
the grave," and the handsome count, who had arrived
at court in such brilliant array, was now clad in coalblack armour, with a sky-blue scarf bound across his
breast in token of unswerving constancy.
How much his thoughts-yes, even his very heart
had changed since he left his gay castle on the Danube I
Sad as his present existence was, it seemed infinitely
preferable to him to the shallow and empty life he had
formerly passed in the midst of his gay, riotous companions. The image enshrined in his breast, although
veiled in mourning, was yet illumined by a faint hope,
and occupied his thoughts so entirely and so deliciously
that it left no room for anything else. When he had
returned from former expeditions he had thought with
pleasure of his stately castle, and had rejoiced in the
prospect of again seeing his men and horses-and even
his faithful dogs; but now he felt a distaste for all
these things and for the boisterous welcome of his
friends, and would far rather have been left to pursue
his reveries undisturbed.  Whilst, buried in these
thoughts, he pursued his way with his head sunk
on his breast and his horse's bridle hanging loosely,
his mind suddenly recurred to his desolate, lonely
estate,-Castle Silence. He recalled all the stories that
he had heard concerning the castle and the surrounding valley in its quiet beauty, and decided that
there could be no more fitting retreat for him in his
present melancholy condition. He immediately turned
14*




162            CASTLE SILENCE.
his horse's head thitherward, and, followed by his won.
dering train, who could not imagine why their master
should thus lead them towards an unknown part of the
country, arrived, at the end of three days, on the
banks of the Neckar, where he communicated his resolution to his followers.
At first the startled train attempted to dissuade their
lord from rashly entering that accursed valley, the tale
of whose lonely horrors had been handed down from
father to son for so many generations. But when the
count held fast to his intention, and gave all those who
did not wish to follow him free permission to leave him
and go home, not one of all the retinue was willing to
desert his master, but vowed to follow him to the death,
if he desired it.
After the troop had rested for awhile on the banks
of the Neckar, the count dispatched one of his squires
to a watch-tower not very far distant, in search of some
one who could guide them to the valley and Castle Silence. At first the inmates of the tower crossed themselves when they heard the squire's request, but when
they learned that he was sent by the rightful lord of
Castle Silence, they gave him one of their men, who
rode on in front of the count. Soon the bold train saw
before them a chain of mountains, which their guide
said were the heights surrounding the silent valley.
Then, giving them instructions as to the direction in
which they could find an entrance to it, he took leave
of the count and galloped away towards his home in
great haste.
Count Raymond, who was far too deeply occupied
with thoughts of his distant lady-love to think of any




CASTLE SILENCE.               I63
dangerous adventures that might await him behind
those mountains, quietly ascended the heights. His
train followed him, it is true, but one could see by the
movements that were made here and there that the
repose that filled the breast of their lord was far from
the minds of his retinue. One fastened his steel cap
tighter under his chin, another loosened his sword in
its sheath, while a third sat more erect in his saddle and
seized his halberd with a firmer grasp.  Thus they
reached the summit of the mountain barrier, and saw
before them an arched pathway which led down into
the valley, but which presented a most neglected appearance. The oaks and beeches which grew on either
side of it had so interlaced their branches that the
count wondered at first whether he should be able to
penetrate them on horseback. But as soon as he made
the attempt the branches seemed to part of themselves,
leaving the pathway clear, so that his train followed
him through it easily.
They rode on silently-down, down-until, leaving
the forest that covered the mountains, they stepped out
upon a fresh, green meadow, intersected by clear,
sparkling brooks, and saw before them a stately castle.
Fear lest they should encounter some strange horror, as
well as the mysterious silence that pervaded the whole
valley, had hitherto tied the tongues of the men,-not
one had dared to open his lips. But now, when they
saw before them the massive walls of a castle, courage
returned, and the trumpeters put their instruments to
their lips to announce their coming by a joyous blast.
But, oh, horror! although they were masters of their
art, and exerted all their force, they could not bring




t64            CASTLE SILENCE.
forth a single note. Again they put forth their strength,
puffing out their cheeks until they grew blue in the
face, but all in vain, —no sound broke upon the horrible silence around. In terrified amazement each
turned to his neighbour to express his wonder, but a
new dread fell upon all, for no one could utter a word,
-all were dumb!
Count Raymond, who was riding some distance
ahead, turned his horse, that he might survey the lovely
landscape, when he became aware of the confusion and
terror of his train. In attempting to inquire the cause,
he learned it without receiving any answer, for his lips
refused to utter a sound. Not much enlivened by this
discovery, he looked back and saw how the last of his
attendants, hoping to escape from the valley, attempted
in vain to retrace his steps,-the interlaced boughs,
which had afforded so free an ingress, now grew together more thickly and obstinately than ever, making
a passage through them impossible, and cutting off all
hope of retreat.
Thus imprisoned, the count, with a shake of the head,
rode towards the castle, and, followed by the horrorstruck train, through the high, arched gateway into the
court-yard. Here everything was arranged in the best
possible manner and in perfect order; and, although
the attendants and squires looked timidly round, expecting some new and alarming adventure, everything
was so natural and well ordered that, after a short deliberation, they unsaddled their horses and led them to
the spacious stables.
The count, followed by his equerry, ascended the
wide staircase, and passing through a long hall, adorned




CASTLE SILENCE.               165
with a collection of huge antlers, came to a suite of
rooms furnished gorgeously, although in rather antiquated style. In one of these, the windows of which
looked out upon an extensive but neglected park, the
count took off his armour, choosing this place for his bedroom. His attendants explored the lower stories of the
castle, and became quite contented and easy in their
minds when they found everything so habitable and
convenient, especially as they discovered a well-filled
pantry, adjoining a spacious kitchen, stocked with all
kinds of cooking-utensils, although these last were antiquated enough in form and fashion. Their satisfaction, however, increased greatly when they came to
an open cellar-door, through which, down a flight
of stone steps, they entered a spacious vault, where,
in symmetrical rows, a number of large and small wine
casks were arranged.
As the whole retinue was thus destitute of nothing in Castle Silence to make life comfortable, except the power of speech, they soon reconciled themselves to circumstances, and in a short time learned to
express their thoughts and wishes as perfectly by pantomime as though they had been accustomed to this
mode of intercourse from earliest youth. And the
count, too, soon felt at home in his quiet place of
exile. For no blast of hunting-horn, no shout of
vassals or baying of hounds, disturbed his thoughts of
his distant lady-love, who occupied his mind entirely.
He laid aside his arms, and, with his followers, busied
himself in the castle park, which, under his care, soon
became a perfect scene of delight. It seemed as though
the spell under which castle and valley had so long




I66             CASTLE SILENCE.
lain had produced an excellent effect upon all trees and
plants growing there, for with very little trouble the
most beautiful results ensued and the rarest flowers
flourished. The castle, with its park and terraces,
looked in a short time like a luxuriant parterre, and
was so lovely that the count longed for nothing, save
the original of the image that filled his breast. His
great grief was that he could not obtain the slightest
news of his beloved one.  He had often attempted to
send one of his confidential servants to the court of
the king for tidings of her, but the evil spell upon the
valley forbade all egress from its precincts, and his
messenger was always obliged to return to the castle
entirely unsuccessful.
One day our count was sitting in the park among
his flowers, communing with them  as with his distant love.  The snowy velvet petal of the lily reminded him of her fair brow; the modest violet looked
lovingly at him from its depths of blue, as her dear eyes
had done in former happy hours; and when the sweet
breath of the opening rose was wafted towards him, he
seemed to perceive in the perfumed air a soft, wistful
whisper that came like a greeting to him from his idol.
Thus he sat, buried in dreamy reveries, when one of the
snow-white doves, which he had often noticed flying
around the castle, perched upon his shoulder and laid its
head against his cheek. He stroked the pretty creature
caressingly, when suddenly he perceived around its
neck a little golden ring. With trembling hands he
examined it closely, almost expecting that Noah's messenger had brought him also a leaf of hope. But he
found nothing except a little hook attached to the ring.




CASTLE SILENCE.                I67
to which a letter might be suspended, and by which,
the instant he discovered it, he resolved to make one
more attempt, to assure his beloved one of his unalterable constancy. This project he carried out upon the
spot.  He wrote a few lines to the princess, telling
her of his present stay in Castle Silence, and bewailing
his fate in being separated from her perhaps forever.
This note he attached to the hook which hung from
the ring around the dove's neck, and let the pretty
creature fly. It rose into the air immediately, soared
higher and higher, and, to the unspeakable delight of
the count, had soon passed the boundaries of the
Silent Valley and was lost in the distance.
In the mean time much had gone wrong at the king's
court after the departure of Count Raymond, and the
king, who had fully expected that as soon as the count
was no longer present his daughter would forget him,
found, to his chagrin, that he had been mistaken.
From the day when the count's heralds had played that
mournful air, "There's rest in the grave," the princess,
poor, sweet lady, had seemed to think of little else,
and had taken no delight in the gay revels going on
around her.  Her bright eyes grew dim, her gaiety
vanished, and not only could she no longer enliven her
father's melancholy in his gloomy moments, but he in
his turn was obliged to undertake the part of comforter,
and attempt to dissipate his daughter's ever-increasing
sadness, which he did by suggesting all reasonable
topics of consolation,-taking very good care, however, not to allude to the only thing that engrossed her
mind entirely.  But his fatherly affection could not
long endure to contemplate the sufferings of his darling




I68             CASTLE SILENCE.
child. And besides, the count's good friend, who stood
high in the king's favour, used every means in his
power to impress his master with a favourable view of
the count's aspirations, so that at last the monarch's
heart was softened, and he seemed inclined to grant
the count his daughter's hand.
This good news was dispatched to the count by six
couriers, who started off, one after another, with letters
fiom the princess, each, after the first, a postscript to
its predecessor. But the couriers all returned, after a
few days, and announced that the count had never
been at his castle on the Danube, and had sent no
tidings as to whither he had gone. Then the princess
mourned indeed, and the good king, moved by his
daughter's tears, and fearing that the count had either
committed suicide or joined a crusade against the
infidels, reproached himself bitterly for his former
hard-heartedness.
Who knows whether the princess, in her despair,
might not have entered a convent and taken the veil,
if, just at the right time, while she was sitting in her
balcony, shedding sorrowing tears for her lost lover,
the dove had not arrived from Castle Silence with the
note announcing the count's place of exile and telling
her of the enchantment that held him captive?  Although the princess was rejoiced, and even the king
himself, at this news, yet the latter was keenly alive to
the mortifying circumstance that the count could not
present himself at court, and to avoid any breach of
etiquette he determined to visit Castle Silence in person, and to have the marriage celebrated there.
The count's friend set out the same day for the




CASTLE SILENCE.               169
banks of the Neckar, to announce to Raymond this
happy change in his prospects. A few days afterward
the king and his whole court followed him, with great
pomp and splendour. The princess rode upon a white
palfrey, and had entirely recovered her good spirits
and gay humour. Her smile again shed its light upon
all, and there was no end to her delight. Thus they
travelled on, and at evening gorgeous tents were raised
under which the whole court encamped to pass the
night. But the moon was so bright, and the princess
was in a state of such joyous excitement, that she could
not sleep. She stepped outside of her tent and sat
down, that she might send her thoughts on before to
where her heart's treasure was. She had not sat long
when she heard a rushing noise just above her, and,
looking up, she saw a mighty eagle wheeling in huge
circles above her head. At first she observed the flight
of the bird with pleasure, but as he descended lower
and lower she grew frightened and attempted to rise
and return to her tent. Suddenly the eagle came so
close to her, encircling her head in his wheeling flights,
that the poor princess could not stir from the spot. In
amazement she looked at the bird, and was not a little
astonished when he bent his head respectfully, and addressed her. "Fairest princess," he said, "forgive me
for frightening you; but, while high in the air, I saw how
brilliantly the crown that you wear upon your lovely
head glittered in the moonlight, and I was seized with
an unconquerable desire to beg it of you for my wife,
the Lady Eagle. I know your good heart, and shall be
grateful indeed to you if you grant my request."
When the princess heard the bird speak thus ration15




170            CASTLE SILENCE.
ally, she lost all fear, although she could not help
smiling to herself at the eagle's vanity in wishing to
adorn his wife with a crown. However, she took it off
her head and handed it to the bird, who received it
in his claws, thanked her in the most polite manner,
and, rising from the ground, was soon lost to sight in
the clouds. The princess gazed after him for awhile,
and then rose from her seat to enter her tent, when she
observed something shining upon the ground before
her. She examined it more closely, and it proved to
be one of the eagle's glossy, black feathers. She picked
it up and took it with her into her tent.
The following day the court proceeded upon its
journey, and at evening encamped under their tents
upon a spacious plain. The princess, remembering the
last night's adventure, seated herself again in the moonlight, and thought in her kind heart of the Lady Eagle's
delight in receiving the jewelled crown, when, by
chance, looking upwards, she saw, to her amazement,
the eagle again in the air above her head, slowly descending towards her. Down he came, and made his
obeisance before the princess; but this time there was
a sorrowful expression in his eyes, as he said, "Ah!
most gracious princess, you will repent your kindness
to me, for I have come again to request something of
you. My Lady Eagle found your crown so entirely to
her taste that she has entreated me to beg you for your
necklace, which matches it exactly. I know your kind
heart, and shall be grateful indeed to you if you grant
my request."
The princess, who could not help smiling again at
the Lady Eagle's vanity, could not find it in her heart




CASTLE SILENCE.               I 7
to refuse the bird's request, so she took off her necklace and gave it to the eagle, who soon vanished
with it in the air, leaving behind him another feather,
which the princess picked up and laid aside with the
first.
The next day brought them to their journey's end.
They reached the bright, sparkling Neckar, and encamped at night where they saw before them the heights
surrounding the valley and Castle Silence.  Here,
in full view of the place where her future husband was,
the princess found it impossible to remain in her tent,
but wandered forth to send a loving greeting towards
the valley that nestled behind the hills. If she thought
at all of the previous visits of the eagle, she never
dreamed that he would return to beg for anything
more.  And yet, so it was. Scarcely had she looked
at the full moon, when she heard the familiar sound
above her head, and the eagle alighted upon the
ground before her, but looking very anxious and unhappy.  "Ah! kindest of princesses," said he, "you
must think me importunate indeed, but my Lady
Eagle has teased me until I have promised to beg for
your bracelet, that her set of ornaments may be complete.  Had I not known your kindness of heart, I
should not have dared to prefer this last request; but
be sure, if you grant it, my gratitude to you will be unbounded."
The good princess could not help now laughing aloud
at the Lady Eagle's vanity, but she took off her bracelet
and handed it to the bird, who was profuse in his
polite thanks, and flew joyfully up to the heavens,
leaving behind him a third feather, which the princess




172            CASTLE SILENCE.
picked up and laid aside with the other two. Then she
went to her tent and slept in peace, dreaming of the
bliss that awaited her on the morrow, when she should
again see Count Raymond.
The count had been greatly surprised by his friend's
arrival, and no less delighted by the good news which
he brought. But, as the honest knight fared no better
upon his entrance into the valley than had the count
and his train-becoming on the instant as dumb as a
fish-the two friends had at first great difficulty in
making themselves intelligible to each other, for the
odd pantomime in use at the castle was entirely strange
to the new-comer.
Count Raymond could hardly credit his good fortune. For the first time since his exile, he commanded
his followers to burnish their arms and array themselves
gorgeously, while he instantly hastened to the border
of the valley, that he might catch the first glimpse of
the approaching train. All in Castle Silence were in a
state of the greatest activity, busied in adorning castle
and park in the gayest manner. It seemed as though
inanimate objects even were aware whom they were
to receive, for the flowers had never before breathed
forth such delicious fragrance or displayed such
brilliant colours. The very oaks and beeches appeared
to be possessed with a desire to be gallant to the
princess, for they raised their knotted boughs, with
which they had hitherto excluded every one from the
valley, and formed a beautiful, shady arch over the
principal avenue to Castle Silence. Upon that height
of the mountain chain surrounding the valley which




CASTLE SILENCE.                  73
afforded a fine view of the Neckar and marked the
boundaries of the enchanted land, the count erected a
splendid pavilion, extending the canopy far out into the
air on the other side of his border-line, that under it the
king and his court might repose, as it was by no means
likely that they would desire to enter the valley and
become dumb.
At last, on a lovely evening, the count perceived the
brilliant procession winding between the mountains
and encamping upon the shores of the Neckar.  His
heart was brimming with rapture, not only with the
expectation of seeing his beloved bride, but also because a voice within him seemed to whisper that the
pure, faithful nature of the princess would in some way
dispel the enchantment resting upon the valley and Castle Silence.  Thus the night passed in blissful dreams
and the first rays of the morning sun saw all the squires
and attendants from Castle Silence drawn up in their
most brilliant array in the interior of the pavilion.
And now the royal train approached, and, after an interchange of greetings, the marriage ceremony began,
conducted, of course, on one side, in dumb show.
But, when it was concluded, the king could not refrain from reminding his daughter of all she would leave
behind her when she passed the fatal boundary-line,
and of the many trials that awaited her beyond it,dwelling with great force and earnestness upon the loss
of speech for the rest of her life. But the love and
constancy of the princess scarcely allowed her to listen
to these words. With tears, she sank upon her father's
breast, embracing him  tenderly, and then stepped
across the boundary of the Silent Valley to her husI5*




74             CASTLE SILENCE.
band,-a step accompanied by a shout of surprise from
the whole royal train, who had always believed that, as
soon as the princess saw the dumb assemblage on the
other side, she would change her mind entirely.
But scarcely had the princess given her hand to her
husband when a wonder became apparent, for she was
not in the least dumb, but expressed her delight and
happiness in her usual clear, silvery voice. The maids
of honour and waiting-women, however, who accompanied her, did not fare so well, for, although they
tried their best to send love and messages to their
friends at home, they could not articulate a syllable,
and their comical efforts to speak produced no little merriment in spite of the pain of parting. The king, delighted to perceive that his daughter had not lost the
power of speech, once more gave her his blessing, from
a distance, and then departed with his court, quite
content.
And now, with the princess's arrival, anew and happy
life began in Castle Silence. It seemed as though the
air in field and grove were fresher and healthier, and as
though the flowers bloomed with double splendour. All
there were rejoiced to hear a human voice once more,
particularly that of the princess, which was so soft and
melodious that it thrilled with delight every one who
heard it, and the count thought he had never listened
to such delicious music.
Thus the noble pair lived contented and happy in
their solitude, and in all the improvements of his estate
the count found an able assistant in the princess, under
whose direction everything flourished and grew more
luxuriantly than ever. She would even ride out with




CASTLE SILENCE.                75
her husband into the forest, to watch the gambols
of the stags and roes, who drew confidingly near her,
as though they knew that in her presence the count's
hunting-spear would not harm them.
In the park, at some distance from the castle, there
was a spot under the spreading beeches that the princess
dearly loved. Thence could be seen the Silent Valley
basking in quiet beauty, and the gaze wandered with
rapture from the rivulets that intersected it to the
meadows bordered by the lofty surrounding heights,
covered with thick forests, which stood out in beautiful
relief against the distant horizon. From this spot a
path led on one side to the gentle eminence upon which
stood the castle, and at the other end of this path there
was to all appearance a small lake. But neither the
count nor any of his train had ever succeeded in penetrating to the extremity of this path, so thickly grew
the trees and underbrush that barred their progress and
even prevented all glimpse of what lay beyond. Many
an attempt had been made, but in vain, to cut through
the thick, interlacing boughs that seemed to enclose a
little sheet of water. There the princess was sitting
one evening, in her favourite haunt, buried in thoughts
of how fair and lovely the valley would be if only, by a
removal of the enchantment that bound it, it could
once more be placed in communication with the outside world.
Pondering this, she arose and wandered down the
path to the thick bushes that terminated it, when, to
her no small surprise, she perceived through the dense
growth before her a narrow opening which showed
a glimpse of a placid, waveless lake beyond. At first




176            CASTLE SILENCE.
she was about to turn back, but, impelled by some
unseen power, she entered the narrow path, which
had never been perceived there before, and which led
her to the banks of the little lake. How great was her
wonder when she saw in the midst of this little lake a
plant, the leaves of which were coal-black with a narrow border of blood-red, while round this plant, in
widening circles, swam a swan, also coal-black in colour.
The whole scene was so strange that the princess
would fain have retraced her steps, but she could not.
On the contrary, she sank down involuntarily upon a
large mossy stone upon the shore, and, although she
combated the feeling of intense weariness that crept
over her, her head drooped, and she fell into a deep
sleep.
She dreamed that the black swan came slowly
to the shore and told her how she was an enchanted
princess who had betrayed and murdered her young
husband  that loved her truly and faithfully, and
therefore her father had cursed her, and how she had
been condemned as a punishment for her crime to
swim about this lonely lake, in despair and woe, until
some king's daughter should, through her faithful love
for her husband, be enabled to break the evil spell.
"The sight of you, fair sister," the swan sung on,
"has, after a thousand years of vain longing, once
more awakened within me a hope that the enchantment
may be dispelled. That you did not forget your lover
is a proof of your fidelity, and that you followed him
into this enchanted valley is a proof of your love.
Your heart, too, must be wholly pure and free from
guile, or the foliage around this lake would never




CT; — "~m!
~ —--------------------— =i
~~/~YII~~~~~   ~t~~='~C-~~"~~-~ —~~=r%
"Taingoneof  he agl's   eater,   se  uterd aouda wsh hatth
bird woud                         r eeme he.
--— = —--— J~Page   x77.








CASTLE SILENCE.               1  7
have parted and shown you a path through it. And
yet, notwithstanding all this, three things are still
wanting, without which the enchantment that keeps
me here can never be destroyed. These are, first
a drop of the Water of Life, second a seed of the Roc
flower, and third a breath of the warm gale that blows
over Araby the Blest. But these things can only be
procured by one who by kindness to her fellow-creatures
has bound to her in chains of gratitude some inhabitant
of the air."
So the princess seemed to dream, and when she
awoke and saw the swan swimming quietly upon the
water she pondered the words she had just heard, and
went quietly and thoughtfully towards the castle. She
was conscious of her faithful love for her husband, and
of a pure heart, but how could she procure the three
things indispensable to the breaking of the spell? As
she was thinking over all this, the thought of the eagle's
black feathers, which she had laid aside on that last
evening and had forgotten, suddenly occurred to her,
and that she had some claim upon the gratitude of the
bird, who had been so profuse in his thanks. Full of
these musings, she told no one of her visit to the
lake, but, when she arose the next morning, she determined, before night, to make an attempt to summon
the bird to her side by means of these three feathers,
and break the spell resting upon Castle Silence.
As evening approached, she took her way towards the
lonely lake. Again the dense foliage parted before her
and she seated herself upon the mossy stone on the
shore. Taking one of the eagle's feathers, she uttered
aloud a wish that the bird would remember her, and
M




178            CASTLE SILENCE.
come down to her from the clouds. Scarcely had the
words left her lips, when she heard the old whirr in the
air, and the eagle alighted on the ground before her,
and saluted her respectfully. "Fair princess," said he,
"I hope you have called me to require some service of
me by which I can testify my gratitude to you." The
princess replied that she had indeed a difficult service
to ask of him, which consisted in nothing less than in
procuring for her a drop of the Water of Life. The bird
bowed low, and assured her graciously that to bring her
this drop would be a trifling matter to him. He took
one of his feathers from her hand, soared into the air,
and was soon out of sight. The black swan seemed to
understand these proceedings, for it approached the
shore where the princess sat, looked at her earnestly
for some minutes, and, when it perceived that she had
attracted her attention, took a drop of water from the
lake in its bill, and, swimming towards the plant in the
centre, let the drop fall upon its leaves.
In less than a minute the eagle returned, bearing in
his beak the desired drop of water, which, at the request of the princess, who had understood the swan's
signs, he sprinkled upon the plant. This was scarcely
done, when the black hue and red rims of the leaves
disappeared, and they became a beautiful fresh green.
In the same manner the princess begged the eagle to
bring her a seed of the Roc flower and a breath of the
gales of Araby the Blest,-both of which he brought in
less than a minute. Scarcely had the seed fallen upon
the plant in the centre of the lake, when a great bud
grew forth from it, and upon this bud the eagle breathed
the warm, spicy gale from Arabia.




CASTL.E SILENCE.               I 79
Then a fearful clap of thunder rolled over the Silent
Valley, and the waves of the lake, before so glassy,
foamed and boiled furiously. With a loud report, the
bud of the plant burst, and a flower unfolded itself,
consisting of a single dark purple petal, upon which
glittered three silver rings. Twice again the deafening
thunder rolled, and the water of the lake raged in such
foaming billows that the poor princess closed her eyes
and sank into a deep swoon.
In Castle Silence the mighty claps of thunder were
also heard, and every one, from  the count to the
meanest scullion, was thrilled with a joyful shock,
for, instead of being forced, as usual, to express their
wonder by signs, they were all suddenly able to speak.
The count started from his seat, and, to his own surprise, asked his master of the horse whence a clap
of thunder could proceed, with such clear skies above.
The maids and ladies-in-waiting dropped their work
and screamed aloud. The cellarer, who had a glass of
foaming ale at his lips, let it fall, with a loud oath, and
two stable-boys, who had been quarrelling very unsatisfactorily by signs only, were surprised to find that they
could give vent to their ill humour in good round
terms.
The count's first inquiry, when he had somewhat recovered himself, was for his wife, and, hastening along
the corridor which led to her apartment, he met her
ladies-in-waiting, who were looking for her also,-and
together they went into the park to find her.  The
count, who arrived first at her favourite place of resort,
was alarmed at not finding her there, and no less surprised to find that all the undergrowth at the foot of the




x80            CASTLE SILENCE.
hill had disappeared. But in its place he saw a clear,
quiet lake, surrounded by blooming roses which formed
an arbour over a mossy stone, upon which the princess
was seated. At this moment she recovered from her
swoon, and sank, weeping with joy, upon her husband's
bosom. In a few words she told him how she had freed
the valley and Castle Silence from the spell under which
it had so long lain. The sky was no longer gloomy and
lowering, and high in the air hovered a mighty black
eagle, while a pair of white swans were soaring away
in a purple cloud that was seen sailing towards the east.
The waters of the lake were clear and calm, and upon
the little ripples that broke upon the shore where the
princess was sitting, floated the purple flower-leaf with
the three silver rings lying upon it.
As the count had often heard the legend of the three
healing serpent-rings, and learned from his wife that at
the moment of the disenchantment of the valley and
castle these three rings had risen from the lake, he
prized them very highly. He did well to do so, for they
threw their spells around the princess and himself, who,
if they had been beloved before, were now quite
adored by all who came near them.  The count
adopted the three silver rings into his coat of arms,
where they may be seen to this day, upon a crimson
field.




THE FAIRY TANKARD.
UPON a high, high mountain there once stood a
beautiful, stately castle, surrounded by thick walls and
a deep moat, across which led heavy drawbridges with
mighty portcullises, and on their upper part, carved in
stone, were the arms of the powerful lord to whom the
mountain and the castle belonged. We cannot exactly
tell the name of this castle, but that has nothing to do
with our story. Its walls and towers have crumbled
into such ruin that scarcely one stone is left upon another. We now have to tell about the family who lived
there. It was not destroyed with the castle, but was
saved by the accidental preservation of a very young
branch of this famous line of Schreckenberg. It had
from time immemorial done justice to its name, which
signifies "Terrible-mountain," for if a train of merchants or others approached this stronghold, in their
travels, they did it with terror: a falcon does not more
surely perceive a dove than did the men-at-arms, watching on the towers of the castle, the procession of merchants in the valley below, even though they marched
in the night that they might pass the dreaded fortress
under cover of darkness. It really seemed as though
its inmates were in league with evil spirits. The armed
escorts which accompanied the trains were never able
i6           ( I8I )




182          THE FAIRY TA NKARD.
to get the goods, which they were protecting, safely
past this castle. The inhabitants of the neighbouring towns had often banded together and attempted for
months to beleaguer the Schreckenberg on all sides,
but in vain. The good citizens found, sooner or later,
that it was better to spare a bale of silk, now and then,
to the lord of Schreckenberg, for dresses for his ladywife, or a wagon-load of skins for his men, than expose themselves to the darts from his mangonels, and
tnus put their own skins in peril.
The last of the illustrious and renowned family of
Schreckenberg was Fritz of Schreckenberg, the worst
and wildest of them all, and yet he was much more
beloved than any others ever had been. Although he
never allowed a train of merchants to pass by his castle
without plundering them, he always left them something, and often contented himself with one-half of
their goods.  He never bore off to his castle the
merchants or horsemen whom  he attacked, and as
long as Fritz reigned there, the castle-dungeons were
empty. Neither did he ever make expeditions into
the surrounding country, as those before him had done,
but sat like a spider in its web, and only took what
came within his clutches.  This conduct was owing
partly to his own natural good humour and partly to a
prophecy which had been made to one of his ancestors
and which designated the tenth Schreckenberg as the
one under whom the castle should fall into decay so
that not one stone should be left upon another. The
death of his dearly-loved and gentle wife made the lord
of Schreckenberg still more heedful of this prophecy,
and often plunged him into melancholy. In his youth




THE FAIR Y TANKARD.             183
Fritz had been married, but did not long enjoy the
possession of his lovely wife, for, after having borne
him a son, whom he had christened Kuno, she lived
only one year, and then sought that heaven to which
she clearly belonged, so pious and gentle was she.
But what in especial reminded the noble knight of
the old prophecy was a dream which his wife dreamed
three times just before her death, and which she related to him. She dreamed that, looking down from
heaven, she saw the castle in flames, heard the crash
of the battering-rams and the shouts of the besiegers,
and saw her husband fight bravely and then fall with
his sword in his hand, but she shortly had the consolation of having him with her in heaven. With her
child, the little Kuno, it was far otherwise. She saw
plainly the apartment where the little fellow had hidden
himself in a large arm-chair, terrified at the tumult and
noise; and how his attendants ran away, frightened,
and left him alone. She shuddered, when the flames
spread more and more, and she heard the noise grow
louder, and perceived no means of escape for the child.
Then, suddenly, he looked up cheerfully, and ran
to a corner of the room where stood a great copper
tankard that she had never seen before. He seized
it by the handle, and she dreamed that the tankard
glided swiftly away, with the child clinging to it. She
saw it float down the burning stairs, over the shattered
drawbridge and ruinous walls, to the clear fields without, where the boy and tankard vanished. As I said
before, the poor lady dreamed this three times without
any change, and related it minutely to her husband,
who was not greatly edified thereby. But he listened




84        THE FAIR Y TANKARD.
quietly, and thought, wisely enough, " No one can avert
his destiny, I'm sure I cannot. Let us calmly await
the inevitable." At the request of the sick countess,
all the old rubbish in the castle was overhauled, in
hopes of finding a tankard which should bear some resemblance to the one she had seen in her dream, and
such an one was actually found. It was an old copper
vessel that had lain about for many years without attracting any one's attention. Now it was brought out
and cleansed from dirt and dust, when it was found
that upon its sides were engraved coats of arms and all
sorts of entertaining scenes, tournaments, battles, etc.
The tankard was, by the countess's command, made
the constant plaything of the young Kuno, who was
not a little delighted with his new acquisition. It
seemed indeed as though the child knew of how much
importance this tankard, according to his mother's
dream, would one day become to him, for after it was
given to him he disliked to part with it, and would
amuse himself for hours tracing with his little finger
the strange pictures engraved upon its sides.
It was as if the feeble spark of life within the
countess's breast had only tarried until she might fulfil
her desire concerning the tankard, and as though she
felt that she had committed her boy to the protection of a powerful guardian spirit. A few weeks after
the finding of the vessel, she closed her eyes and
left this wicked world, to seek the purer joys of
heaven.  The count was naturally much distressed
at her death, and appeared to have lost all desire to
pursue his former robber-career. The esquire upon the
highest tower in vain descried whole trains of travelling




THE FAIRY TANKARD.               185
merchants,-his master, pondering the ancient prophecy, had no desire to call down Heaven's wrath upon
his head any sooner than had been decreed; on the
contrary, he did all that he could to induce Heaven to
regard him favourably.  He built convents, heaped
wealth upon poor pilgrims, and lived quiet and retired
in his castle.  He liked far better to sit with little
Kuno by his side, and drink the best wine in his cellar
from  the copper tankard, than to ride plundering
about over hills and fields. He would tell of his early
adventures for hours at a time, or play with the boy
until the wine began to stupefy him and he went quietly
to sleep. This often happened, and he imagined that
his dreams were much pleasanter than usual, when he
drank out of the copper tankard. It is true that at such
times he often dreamed, as his wife had done, of the
ruin of his castle, but he always saw from the decay a
lovely flower arise-the crown imperial-and wave
proudly above the grass and flowers which grew
around it.
The little Kuno got to be ten years old, and, as
the Count of Schreckenberg no longer molested travellers, and was at peace with the knights in the
neighbourhood, he began gradually to consider his
wife's dreams, as well as the ancient prophecy, as something quite visionary and incredible. Unfortunately,
he could not long repose in this belief. Suddenly a
band of men from a neighbouring country devastated
the land, and a universal bloody war arose. Then Fritz
of Schreckenberg knew that his hour had come, and,
calling together his vassals and retainers, he chose the
stoutest from among them, and with their help buried
_  n




186          THE FAIRY TAINKARD.
his principal treasures. After he had given these men
a generous part of his wealth, he made them swear a
solemn oath that if he did not escape with his life they
would care for his son. He then fortified his castle as
strongly as he could, and awaited the issue, which was
quick and sad enough.
Everything happened which the dying countess had
foreseen in her dream. The castle was stormed, and the
count fell, as did his best men,-indeed, all of those
who had taken the oath to succour his child and who
preferred to fulfil the first oath that they had takenthat of fidelity to their lord, in fulfilment of which
they stood, fought, and died by his side. The castle
walls were so shattered that not one stone remained
upon another, and, as the attendants of the little Kuno
obeyed the impulse "each for himself," the poor child
was left alone, and no living soul knew what had
become of him.
While all the evil which the countess had foreseen was
thus fulfilled, the good which she had prophesied was
also realized, and the little Kuno was preserved in a
wonderful and mysterious manner. When the uproar
arose around the castle, he listened at first to the
blasts of the horns and the shouts of the besiegers without fear, but his childish delight only lasted until the
windows of the apartment where he was were reddened
by the flames of the burning rafters, and until the
battle-cries of the combatants, mingled with the groans
of the wounded, became audible in the passages and
stairways near him. Then he was seized with an indefinable terror, and he tried to open the door, which his
faithless attendants had shut tightly behind them when




THE FAIRY TANKARD.              8 7
they left him. But, as he was too weak to do this, he
hastened to his old playfellow, the copper tankard,
which stood in the corner, and, seizing it by the handle,
called weeping upon his father.
The connection in his mind of the tankard with
his father was very natural.  He had seen the old
lord with this vessel constantly in his hand. But Fritz
of Schreckenberg could not hear his child's cries.
It was just at this moment that he fell lifeless to
the ground, struck down by the weapon of an enemy.
After the boy had called his father and attendants
several times in vain, he suddenly felt himself gently
drawn along, as though the tankard were a living being
taking him with it. The door sprang open, and Kuno
glided through it, down the burning stairs, without
being singed by the flames, and past the crumbling
walls, without a stone's touching him. Thus he went
swiftly through the court-yard towards the great gate,
and would soon have been beyond the castle precincts,
when he heard close to him the cries of a boy who,
in former, happy days, had often been his playfellow.
His name was Wolf, and he was the warder's son.
Kuno no sooner heard his old playfellow's voice,
than he answered it," Here, here!" and added," Hurry,
dear Wolf, and come quickly, or we shall both be burnt
up!" Wolf made no delay in jumping out of his hidingplace- an immense water-butt-and came, running
quickly. He had scarcely touched Kuno's dress, when
the invisible power which had borne the boy unhurt
down the burning stairs was again exerted, and the two
children hurried safely onwards. They hardly knew
how they got to the foot of the mountain; they ran a




88          THE FAIRY TANKARD.
long way through the fields without being tired, and
when, sometimes, they turned back to see whence they
had come, they beheld Kuno's paternal castle in flames,
at which sight they both burst into tears, without, however, staying their flight for an instant. Then they
ascended other mountains, and their burning home
began to grow indistinct, and soon they saw nothing
of it but a red reflection against the sky. Evening
had already set in.
The boys now suddenly felt extremely tired, and
looked about for some place where they could pass the
night. But they could see nothing, far or near, save
heaths and forests, mountains and valleys,-no house,
not even a poor shed, under which they might creep
to avoid passing the night in the open air. They sat
down upon the green moss under a tree, and, after regarding each other with mournful looks, and moaning
deeply, they burst into fresh tears and felt that they
had indeed lost everything. "Ah!" sobbed Kuno,
"where can my papa be? They have killed him, and
he is dead!"  "Yes," added Wolf, "and mine, and
my mother, and my little sister!"  "All, all dead,"
interrupted Kuno, "all dead and gone!"
At these words their tears burst forth anew, and
they sobbed together. But, as no one was near to pity
them and beg them not to cry any more, they soon
stopped, and Wolf, who was two years older than
Kuno, tried to divert his companion's thoughts. "Yes,
dear Kuno," said he, "we are unhappy indeed, for we
have lost everything. What is to be done? There is
no house near to receive us, so we must sleep in the
open air, and I don't think it will kill us. Don't you




THE FAIR Y TANKARD.             189
remember that your father told us that when he was a
little boy he went out hunting, and that the whole train
lost their way, and that he, as well as the oldest esquire,
had to sleep upon the ground, and that it did him no
harm?  So we will lie down close together, and see if
we too cannot sleep under the open sky."
Kuno was indeed somewhat comforted by these words
from his companion in misfortune, and, as he as well
as Wolf was a stout-hearted boy, he assented, and they
looked for a fitting sleeping-place. Kuno had until
this moment held the copper tankard-to which, without knowing it, they both owed their preservationfirmly in his hand, for this cup, his sole inheritance,
reminded him so vividly of his ruined home, his father
and his mother, that he felt comforted in having it
near him.
After the two boys had looked around them for some
time, they found a hollow oak lined with the softest
moss. Wolf made his companion creep in first, that
with his tankard he might have the safest and best
place, while he himself lay down in the entrance, that
in case of danger he might be able to protect his little
friend.
Both fell sound asleep, and, as they were very weary,
they did not wake until the sun had climbed to the tops
of the mountains and sent its red, quivering rays into
the hollow tree. Then they sprang up, crept out of
their shelter, and held a council as to the best course
to pursue. Kuno thought it would be advisable to retrace their steps to the castle, to see if perhaps one of
his father's friends, who could help them, might yet
survive. But Wolf disapproved of this plan, assuring




190         THE FAIRY TANKARD.
his little friend that the enemy was swarming in the
neighbourhood to collect booty, and that they should
certainly be killed if they showed themselves. This
satisfied Kuno, and they determined to wander through
the country, trying to support themselves in some
way. They plucked, for breakfast, some berries which
were growing around, and then went to a little brook
which gurgled through the grass not far from their
shelter-tree. Here they filled the tankard with clear
water, and, when they had both taken a drink, were
not a little surprised to find that, notwithstanding
the little that they had eaten, they were no longer
hungry.
Then they set out with renewed strength, and, turning their backs towards the quarter where they supposed
their old home was, they walked on without turning to
the right or left, they knew not whither. The only thing
to which they gave heed was the nature of the soil over
which they passed. At one time they would make a
great circuit that they might avoid wading through a
swamp, and at another they had to walk for a long time
on the edge of a wood along which ran a deep ditch.
Thus they toiled wearily on all day long. And when the
sun set they had no prospect of passing the night more
comfortably than the last. There were no signs of
human habitation around them, no cultivated fields or
fruit-trees,-nothing save dreary heaths through which
here and there rippled desolately a half-dried up brook.
The forests consisted of black, gloomy firs, whose
branches hung sadly down upon the ground, and which
moaned and sighed fitfully when the wind swept through
them. It grew darker and darker, and the two boys




THB FAIRY TANKARD.               i91
seated themselves on the banks of a little stream, and,
as during their day's march they had found no berries
to satisfy their hunger, they filled their tankard with
water from the brook and took a deep draught.
But what was their astonishment when, upon drinking, they discovered, as in the morning, that their
hunger was as perfectly satisfied as though they had
eaten  an excellent meal!  They soon fell quietly
asleep, and, awaking strengthened  and  refreshed
in the morning, they pursued their way. It was now
the third day since they had left home, and, alas!
their future looked no brighter than at first. They
walked on, across moors, through fir forests, and over
moors again, until the afternoon, and just as the sun
was beginning to set they saw before them  in the
distance a mountain-chain covered with firs and other
fresh green, where they hoped at last to find human
habitations and some assistance. They refreshed themselves again with a draught of clear water, and strode
onwards so stoutly that at nightfall they had reached
the mountains.   The hope of finding men and
human dwellings upon these hills would not allow
them to spread their nightly couch under the open
air in the valley, but they began bravely to ascend
the steep elevation to search for a house or village
above.  Behind them rose the full moon, illumining
their path brilliantly, and this was of great assistance
to them, for the higher they went the steeper and
more rocky grew the path. Great masses of stone,
over which they climbed only with great difficulty,
at times blocked their way, and then the bushes
and fallen trunks of trees would make their progress




192         THE FAI R Y TANKARD.
almost impossible. But after several most laborious
hours they reached the top of the mountain and threw
themselves exhausted upon the ground, under an oak,
to rest awhile. After their fatigue had lessened somewhat, Wolf climbed into the tree and surveyed the
country all around. Just before them the forest descended, and it seemed as though the group of mountains, upon which they were, enclosed in a great halfcircle a quiet valley. And this was really so; but, with
all his exertions, Wolf could see nothing around him
except the tops of the trees. Something, it is true,
glistened among them here and there, which, when he
strained his gaze, seemed to be alarge round lake upon
which the moon shone brightly. Kuno, who was not
contented with the comfortless description that Wolf
gave of the prospect, insisted upon climbing the tree
himself, which he did, still holding his dear tankard in
his hand. When he too stood in the tree-top, the two
boys again looked sharply about them, and, although
Wolf insisted that there was nothing to be seen, Kuno
suddenly cried out that he could see a little house down
there, and pointed to it with his finger. But, although
NWo    wi'pe6d is eyes and gazed so earnestly that the
trees seemed to dance around him, he could see nothing
until, accidentally, he laid his hand upon the copper
tankard, and then he instantly saw the little house of
which Kuno had spoken. He could not imagine how
he could have missed seeing before what was now so
plain before his eyes. After he had taken the precaution of throwing his cap from the tree in the
direction of the house, both came down and betook
themselves thither. They found the descent into the




THE FAIRY TANKARD.               93
valley much easier than the ascent of the mountain
had been, but they were obliged to walk quickly for
two good hours before they reached the small house,
which had seemed so near when seen from the top of
the tree.
At last they stepped out of the forest upon a grassy
opening, in the midst of which was a little garden surrounding a cottage. The little garden was enclosed by
a fence made of white and red coral tipped with silver
snakes'-heads.  They walked round and round this
fence many times, vainly seeking for a gate that they
might open. They were just about to climb over it,
when Kuno, who carried the copper tankard in his
hand, accidentally touched the coral fence with it in
passing, and instantly a gate sprang open and admitted
them to the garden. It closed immediately behind
them, and so perfectly were the coral stakes and rails
fitted together that they in vain attempted to discover
the opening through which they had come. This was
surprising enough, but at sight of the garden they were
almost beside themselves with wonder.  The paths
that wound among the flower-beds shone as though
they were covered with silver dust. And their brilliancy was nothing to that of the flowers which grew
in the beds.  It was like a shower of diamonds,
rubies, emeralds, pearls, gold, and silver,-this splendour that danced and glittered before the eyes of
the astonished boys. They were so dazzled that they
could not examine these wonderful plants more closely.
Wolf besought his companion not to stay too long
in the strange garden, but to go with him directly to
the cottage, that the owner might not complain of
N                 I7




194         THE FAIRY TANKARD.
their wandering so long in his grounds without asking
his permission.
So, as silently as possible, they approached the cottage that stood before them. Its four walls were of
smooth, white marble, and the windows seemed to
be huge brilliants framed and set in gold. The roof
consisted of red coral with its branches all sticking
upright, and, like the fence, every point was surmounted
by a silver snake's-head; it seemed as though thousands
of red snakes were writhing there.  The two boys
now stood before the golden door, and Wolf knocked
modestly to attract the attention of the inmates. He
knocked once, twice, three times, but no one came
to open the door.  As they thought that every one
Within must be asleep, they knocked more loudly, and
when this was of no avail the two boys raised their
voices and begged imploringly to be admitted, saying
that they were two poor children who had lost their
way and did not know where they should pass the
night. In vain; no one appeared, and not the slightest
noise was heard within the house. Kuno, who was very
weary, sat down upon the ground before the door, and
in doing so accidentally knocked his copper tankard
against it, when it instantly flew open.
Wolf, in great astonishment, started back and did
not dare to enter. But at last both took courage, and
after they had once more called upon the inmates, whoever they might be, and who were neither to be seen
nor heard, they passed through the door and came to
a little room furnished with great magnificence. What
surprised and delighted them most was the sight of two
beds there. Timidly and anxiously they drew near




THE FAIR Y TANKARD.            t95
them, to see if they contained any one. But, although
they turned back the coverlets and even looked under
the beds, they could find no one. Whereupon, after
a short consultation, fatigue prevailed, and they decided to get into these beds themselves. They therefore undressed and crept under the silken covers, said
their evening prayers, and were soon fast asleep.
As is often the case with children who sleep for the
first time in a strange place, though upon ever so soft
a bed, and in ever so beautiful a room, these two boys
awoke much earlier than usual.  And this morning
there was an additional cause for an early awakening.
As soon as the day broke above the mountain-tops the
windows began to glitter and shine and shoot forth
thousands of such red, yellow, white, and green rays,
that it was enough to awaken the dead. Kuno first
rubbed his eyes, and, with a cry of admiration, looked
around. He had just been dreaming that they had
gone to sleep, as before, under an oak, and had been
awakened by the dampness of the moss and the cold,
sharp morning air. All the more charmed was he to
find himself actually awake, in a finer and softer bed
than he had ever slept in at home.  As for Wolf,
who had never imagined such luxury, he stretched
and turned under the silken counterpane, and could
hardly make up his mind to get out of bed.  But
the curiosity which the many wonderful and beautiful
objects around excited in the boys would not let them
rest any longer. They sprang up, slipped on their
clothes, and began a minute examination of the room.
Everything was strangely magnificent. The night before, the darkness had prevented their seeing much




96         THE FAIRY TANKARD.
around them, so now they were all the more amazed
and charmed.
The bedsteads in the room were especially remark.
able. They were of gold, and the feet represented
beautiful writhing snakes bearing the frame upon their
heads. After the two children had gazed their fill,
they went out into the garden, and, if they had admired the flowers there on the preceding evening, they
were enchanted when they saw them in the light of the
morning sun. Everything was so splendid that each
called out to the other that he could spend his life
here. The slopes of the mountains surrounding this
valley were covered with the freshest green, sparkling
with dewdrops that looked like diamonds in the light
of the morning sun. The water of a little brook, that
tumbled plashing down the mountain-side, was collected in a marble basin below, and thence flowed
gently through the lovely garden.
After the boys had refreshed themselves with a
draught of water, they determined to explore the valley,
to find, if they could, the owner of the cottage. They
longed to ask him if they might stay in this lovely spot,
and if allowed to do so, were ready to promise to keep
the garden in perfect order and make themselves useful
in every way. With this intention Kuno took the tankard under his arm, and they both left the garden. They
followed the course of the brook, which ran for a short
distance through green meadows and then entered the
grove that extended through the larger part of the
valley. The boys were so invigorated by their sound
night's sleep that they sang and shouted.  Besides,
they hoped thus to attract the attention of the master




THE FAIR Y TANKARD.             197
at the house, who might be walking in the grove. It
seemed to them at first rather strange that there were
no birds here to reply to their singing. They stopped
and listened every little while, but echo alone answered
their shouts. They went on and on, until the wood
began to grow less dense, and Wolf thought that he
could see in the distance the shimmer of the lake
which they had observed the day before from the top
of the tree. They hurried on, and soon discovered
that they were not mistaken, for when they issued from
the grove they found themselves on the brink of a
large lake, the waters of which were coal-black and
looked very gloomy.  No ripple stirred its surface,
and, although it was summer-time, it looked as though
it were frozen. Even when the wind blew down a
yellow leaf from the surrounding trees, it did not rest
upon the water, but skimmed along its glassy surface,
stopping only when it reached the land.
The two boys seated themselves upon the shore,
on a mossy stone, not knowing what to think of all
this. Wolf, who had often listened at home to mysterious tales,-told by the squires and men-at-arms,of enchanted countries, water-witches, and fairies,
suggested that they were in one of these enchanted
places,-a supposition not particularly agreeable to
either of them.  They began to be afraid, and, although their surroundings looked pleasant enough,
they gazed about them with suspicion and mistrust.
The quiet that reigned around, the black water,
even the beautiful dwelling in which they had slept,
seemed strange and fearful to them now, for Wolf remembered a story in which the ogre, who devoured
I7*




198         THE FAIR Y TANKARD.
people, was accustomed to tempt little children within
his domains by means of just such things, that he might
make a meal of them afterwards.
With these thoughts, the two boys sat there sadly
enough and gazed into the water, which, although
black, was tolerably transparent. They leaned over
the stone and looked down for a long time, and Kuno,
who held his tankard tight in his arms, was the first to
discover something beneath the surface of the lake.
He thought he could see walls and roofs, and even a
stately castle, down there, far larger and more beautiful
than his father's. Then Wolf looked too, and thought
he could see the same. And, as they both had good
strong sight, they soon found that they had not been
mistaken. There really was at the bottom of the lake
a large and splendid castle, with lofty walls and towers,
which they could see at last as distinctly as one sees
objects through a thin mist. This discovery was not
calculated, however, to allay their fears. On the contrary, they saw clearly that they were actually in an
enchanted valley, and they fully believed that the cottage in which they had slept was the home of the
magician, who meant to entrap and devour them.
Although these thoughts were not likely to attract
them to the little house, yet it was with them as it often
is with men, who, instead of avoiding and fleeing from
some terrible object, are continually impelled by a
shuddering kind of curiosity to approach it. They
got up and went back along the brookside until they
again saw the cottage where they had passed the night.
They peered anxiously around, fearful of discovering
some horror behind every tree and bush; but no, they




THE FAIRY TANKARD.               x99
encountered nothing terrible. The cottage stood, just
as peaceful as ever, before them, and within it all was
unchanged. They entered, and searched every corner
of their sleeping-room, to find some entrance to another apartment, for the smallness of their room did
not accord with the size of the house as seen from
without. But, although they tried their best to discover
the crack of some concealed door in the beautiful,
smooth walls, their trouble was of no avail, they could
find nothing. After they had busied themselves for
awhile in the garden weeding the beds and tying up
the flower-stalks which the wind had blown down, the
evening came on, and the two boys again betook themselves to rest, with very anxious hearts, for they were
afraid that the magician would appear in the night
and put an end to their lives. But their fears were
unfounded,-they slept quietly and soundly all night
long in the silken beds, and were first awakened the
next morning by the dazzling rays of the sun shining
through the brilliant window-panes.
They arose briskly, and their fears of finding themselves in the power of a sorcerer began to diminish.
In the absence of all other nourishment they applied
themselves to their tankard, which did not fail them,
but refreshed and satisfied them in the most wonderful
manner. Then they went hand in hand to explore the
valley again.  This time they did not turn towards
the black lake, but tried to ascend the mountains
forming the wall around the valley. At first they
thought they had discovered a path leading upwards,
but when they had pursued it for a hundred paces
it turned and led down again, and thus it was with




so^     TTHE FAIR Y TANKARD.
a second and a third path which they found. Then
they tried to ascend by climbing through the trees
and bushes, but here some gigantic, fallen tree would
bar their way, and there they would find themselves right
against a perpendicular mass ofrock. Thus theylaboured
on for several hours, and at last were obliged to turn
back, resolving, as they had not succeeded in this
attempt, to find a way around the lake, that they might
explore its other side.
As well as they could see from the shore, where they
sat yesterday, this lake stretched far into the valley,
but any extended view was made impossible by a
thick growth of trees and bushes, through which the
water was gleaming here and there. They turned
towards the left side of the lake, hoping to find a path
along its margin, but here they met with countless difficulties. The steep boundaries of the valley ascended
sheer from the water's edge, leaving only a hand'sbreadth of ground to walk upon, and then in places
huge masses of rock overhung the lake itself, so that
the boys soon found that they must give up all hope
of continuing their explorations on this side. As it
was beginning to grow dark again, they determined to
try the other side the next day, and turned back to
their cottage to pass the third night there.
The evening was exquisitely fine, and the two boys,
excited by the ill success of their voyages of discovery,
found it impossible to go directly to bed when they
reached home. The sun sank behind the mountains,
and soon the moon arose on the other side of the
heavens and peeped through the dark firs down into
the valley, as though longing to discover whither the




THE FAIRY TANKARD.              201
sun, her faithless lover whom she pursues so constantly,
had fled. In this never-ending pursuit the poor pale
face of the moon blushed red, and her colour vanished
only when she was high enough above the mountains
to see that the sun was not hidden in the valley, and
that all her pains to reach him were in vain.
The two children sat down upon a grassy knoll behind the house, and thought of their homes and of their
dear parents and friends now lost to them forever.
They talked over all their last days at the castle, and
amused themselves with recalling to each other's remembrance every trifling incident that either could
recollect. They described to each other the tumult
and noise of the siege, and Kuno told his companion
how great had been his terror when he first saw the red
reflection of the flames upon his window-panes. Thus
they sat, looking now through the valley shaded by
thick trees from the moon's rays, and now at the moon
itself quietly ascending the dark concave of the night.
Suddenly they seemed to hear sounding from the shores
of the lake a low, tinkling echo, as though some one
were passing his finger around the edge of a wine-glass,
or as though small silver bells were chiming. As they
had never before heard the slightest sound in the valley,
they listened to this strange music with the keenest
attention. It seemed to come nearer and nearer, and
its tones grew louder and more distinct. But, although
they both tried to see what could cause this music,
they could discover nothing. At last Kuno motioned
to his companion to be quiet, and pointed down into
the valley before them, where something shining was
issuing from beneath the trees that bordered the lake.




0oa          THIE FAIRY TANKARD.
It was as if two shining, fiery threads were approaching
slowly through the grass. Wolf looked, and was not a
little terrified, for, as his eyes were sharper than his
friend's, he soon discovered two little snakes, glittering and sparkling in the most extraordinary manner,
As they moved on through the grass the music sounded
which they had heard before, and which now seemed
to be caused by the rustling of their serpent-forms along
the ground.  Soon these two strange creatures had
entirely emerged from the trees, and the boys could
see them more distinctly. They really were two snakes,
but not nearly so frightful and ugly as such creatures
usually are. They glided along easily and gracefully,
now raising their heads as if to look about them,
and now lowering them that they might slip through
the grass, seeming to delight in the music which they
made,-for, although there was no particular time kept
in it, it accorded melodiously with every twist and turn
of their bodies.
Although the boys were very much afraid at first,
they could not help being pleased with the two shining
creatures.  They watched with great interest their
movements through the dark grass.  Shortly they
turned and approached the garden which surrounded
the little house. They touched the coral fence, went
through the little gate, and vanished within the cottage.  This the boys had not expected, and they
looked at each other with surprise, thinking that it
was not right that the cold snakes should take possession of the pretty little house. In the mean time it
occurred to Wolf that perhaps the creatures had a
bet.er right to the dwelling than they themselves had,




THE FAIRY TANKARD.              203
and he called to mind a story in which some swans
had a little house in the middle of a pond, furnished
with beds and everything comfortable, and where they
slept at night.
Filled with this idea, the boys became so curious
that, in spite of their dread of some wicked magician
who might work them harm, they got up and crept
upon tiptoe as softly as possible towards the house, to
see what the two snakes were doing there. After many
fruitless attempts to find it, the coral gate opened as
usual when Kuno touched it by chance with the copper
tankard. They slipped through the garden and placed
themselves where they could look in at one of the windows. They then saw the two snakes lift up their heads
against the marble wall of the room, when a door suddenly opened which led into another, far more splendid
and magnificent than the first. Here the walls were of
pure gold, and, as there were no windows to let in the
light, a ruby as big as a man's fist was suspended from the
ceiling, shedding a deep purple but very brilliant light
over the little room, by which they could see that the
place was filled with all kinds of beautiful furniture.
There were little tables and arm-chairs, and washbasins and goblets, all made of metal, adorned with
many beautifully-engraved figures. The idea occurred
to Wolf that the tankard which Kuno was carrying
matched the things in this room exceedingly well,
for upon the table there was a vessel very much like
it, only not so large and handsome.
The snakes glided up on one of the tables, and then
slipped into a wash-basin filled with a pink fluid, in
which they bathed themselves for awhile. Then they




e04         THE FAZIRY TANKARD.
left the bowl and glided down to the floor again. As
they raised themselves against each other, the serpentskins fell from their bodies, and they were transformed
into two beautiful young girls of from ten to twelve years
old, who fell into each other's arms, weeping loudly.
The two boys beheld this transformation with the
greatest astonishment. That there was magic in all this
they saw clearly, but they were far more delighted than
frightened. The two girls looked so amiable and lovely
that they were not in the least afraid of them. They
would have dearly liked to go to them and find out
why they had been serpents only a few minutes before.
Kuno was especially desirous to enter the room and
speak to them, but Wolf held him back, reminding
him that it was clearly their duty to go quietly away
and leave the two princesses (for such they certainly
were, judging from the little gold crowns that they
had on) in undisturbed  possession of the house,
which belonged, of course, far more to them than to
the two boys. At first Kuno could hardly tear himself away from the window, so earnestly was he observing the two princesses, who now left the small room
and went into the one where the two beds were.
There they sat down in an arm-chair, with their arms
around each other's waists, and talked very seriously
together, while they shed many tears, but not one word
of what they said could the boys understand.
After they had sat thus for awhile, they embraced
and kissed each other, and then each slipped into one
of the beds in which the boys had slept the night before. As just at this moment the moon, which had
illumined the bedroom with its clear rays, sa" behind




THE FAIR Y TANKARD.             205
the mountains, the little house grew very dark, and the
boys could see nothing more. In great amazement at
the occurrences of the evening, they left the garden,
that they might not disturb the little mistresses of the
house, and lay down at the edge of the thicket, resolving firmly to awake at daybreak and see what would
become of the two snakes, or rather of the two princesses. But they slept very soundly. Whether because
they had walked about a great deal, or because the
guardian angel who watches over orphan children had
not thought it best that they should carry out their
intention, and so made their eyelids heavy, we cannot say;-when they awoke the sun was high in the
heavens, and, upon hurrying to the house, they found
it just as empty as on the first day that they had
entered it.
They examined everything most carefully, the beds,
the chairs, the drawers of the table, but after the most
diligent search they could find no trace of the princesses nor of the door leading to the next room.
They wandered sadly about, both repenting their
modesty on the preceding evening, and wishing that
they had knocked at the window and represented themselves as two poor boys who had gone astray in this
place, which they had never seen before. But as they
hoped to see the two beautiful snakes again some future
evening, they determined to wait patiently, and, as
what was done could not be undone, they began anew
their exploration of the valley. They went to the lake
and attempted to walk along its margin towards the
left. They succeeded much better than when, the day
before, they had pursued the other direction. They
i8




0o6         THE FAIRY TANKARD.
found a convenient pathway, and followed it until
they reached the farthest spot which had been visible
from the head of the lake, and there, as they had suspected, the water became hidden among the trees.
The lake grew much narrower, and formed here a
long angle, around which the boys could not get, for
the path suddenly ceased at the foot of a steep mass
of rock which they were unable to climb, and which
prevented their advancing one step.
After making several vain attempts to scramble up
this rocky wall, while they were looking anxiously
about them, Wolf discovered a little flight of stairs
leading directly down to the lake, and at its foot a
skiff lay moored. Much as the boys desired to enter
the boat, that they might pursue their explorations
with its aid, dread of the black water at first deterred
them  from such an undertaking. Kuno, especially,
deprecated such a step, for the castle at the bottom of
the lake seemed to him more fearful and strange than
the colour of the water.
"Only suppose, dear Wolf," said he, "that we were
to sail upon this black water, and that one of the castle
gates down there should open, and that a horseman
should ascend, and ask us who we were, and what we
wanted. Or suppose the skiff should suddenly sink,
and we should fall down there among all those people
who are perhaps within the castle, enchanted forever."
At first Wolf gave heed to these warnings,but, as he
had set his heart upon reaching the other shore of the
lake and seeing if there were not some human beings
there, he gradually converted his friend to his proposal and persuaded him  to take a sail upon the




THE FAIRY TANKARD.              207
water. Thus, after much discussion, they descended
the steps and seated themselves in the boat, but they
attempted for a long time in vain to loosen the chain by
which it was fastened with a padlock to the steps. At
last Kuno, who sat in the stern of the little skiff, in
making a fresh attempt to unfasten the lock, touched
the chain with the tankard, which he was carrying, and
instantly the chain parted and left the boat free upon
the water. Now, Wolf had often seen the servants at
home, when they wished to glide close by the shore of
the pond, without oars, that they might draw in the
nets that had been set for fish, help their boat through
the water by seizing the bushes and boughs of the trees
that grew overhead, and pulling themselves along.
When the chain parted, he tried to imitate them, but
in making the attempt he almost fell into the water,
for no sooner was the boat set free than it turned away
from the shore, and, without sail or oar, suddenly shot
out into the middle of the lake. In vain did they try to
stop it by calling to it to stand still, as one would to
an unruly steed, shouting, in their fright, with all their
strength. Wolf, in especial, when he felt himself thus
borne away, first entreated the boat most politely,
and then ordered it in the harshest terms, to turn
around instantly or to stop.  In vain; they darted
rapidly onwards. They soon passed the place where
the lake grew narrower, and, sailing around the rocky
wall which had impeded their progress on the shore,
they saw before them the rest of the lake, which was as
large and broad as the other half behind them.
Although the skiff moved forwards so swiftly upon
the water, it did not cleave the waves with its prow,




0o8          THE FA IRY TAANiKARD.
but seemed to glide over the surface as though upoi
ice. And there was no noise of water plashing against
the sides of the boat, or murmuring gently. All was
silent and still. At first the boys feared that when they
reached the middle of the lake its shores would retreat,
leaving them upon a boundless, lonely sea. But it was
not so,-the shores kept their places, and the boys discovered that they were steering towards an island which
seemed to lie near the other end of the black pond.
This island could not be very large, and yet the trees
and bushes upon its banks appeared to be impenetrable.
Trees upon trees, with their thick foliage, formed a
green wall, and between their trunks grew low underbrush, weaving them together. The children soon saw
that there was a little flight of steps here too, leading
down to the water, and thither the boat directed its
course.  It soon reached the shore, and, pushing
through the boughs and bushes that grew over the
water, touched the steps, alongside of which it lay per
fectly motionless.
Wolf, who was the first to recover from his astonishment and terror, sprang upon the shore and helped
out his comrade, who, now that the adventure seemed
likely to end without danger of any kind, enjoyed
it mightily, and laughed at their involuntary sail.
They held a consultation as to what was to be done,
and Kuno thought that the best thing would be to
speak very politely and encouragingly to the little
vessel, that it might turn round and carry them back
whence they came, as there could not be anything very
remarkable upon this island. Wolf, on the contrary,
was of opinion that they should penetrate to its in



THE FAIRY TANKARD.              209
terior. He could not suppose it likely that the skiff
had brought them  so far against their will without
some good purpose. He induced his friend to walk
along the shore, in hopes of finding some opening
through the bushes. They passed around the island
several times, examining the wall of foliage very minutely, to find some little hole through which they
might slip, but none could be found. Some magic must
have been at work, for it certainly seemed as though
the trees interwove themselves more thickly when
either of the two children tried to creep through.
While engaged in this search, it became noonday.
The sun was high in the heavens, and the boys sat
down on the shore of the island to rest after their
exertions. They were very hungry and thirsty. As
there was no brook near to supply their need, Wolf
proposed that they should for once try the water of
the lake. He filled the tankard and took a good drink,
and, when he found that the water was cool and pleasant, he handed it to Kuno, who, however, could not
bring himself to put it to his lips. When he thought
of the castle at the bottom of the lake, in which, perhaps, men were lying spell-bound at that very minute,
he declared that he would rather die of hunger than taste
such water. So he took the tankard and threw its contents out among the bushes. But how shall we describe
his astonishment, when he saw that wherever the water
touched the boughs and foliage, they opened, leaving a
free passage between them! The boys sprang up, and,
after convincing themselves that this wonder had really
taken place, Wolf boldly entered the path thus formed,
and Kuno followed him.
o              18*




210         THE FAIRY TANKARD.
They went on for a few steps among the trees, which
grew here very irregularly. But they soon found before
them a pathway, on either side of which were groups of
plants and bushes, whose arrangement showed clearly
that they owed their position there to art. They followed this path, which led to the interior of the island,
and soon, leaving the thick underbrush behind them,
came out upon a grassy plain, at sight of which they
both gave a cry of wonder, and stood as if rooted to
the spot.  There in the midst of this plain was a
large table, at which sat twenty or thirty men, who,
although they seemed to be in the midst of conversation and laughter, were all stiff and motionless. At
first the boys thought that their sudden appearance had
startled the company and held them motionless for a
few seconds. Kuno turned to run, but Wolf held him
back, and continued to stare at this strange sight with
wide-open eyes. Nothing stirred, and the figures sat
there as if hewn out of stone. Wolf, whose courage
soon returned, first made a slight noise, then coughed,
and cleared his throat loudly, and, finding that the
men paid no attention, he shouted aloud, "Halloo!
halloo!" and Kuno joined in lustily.  But nothing
stirred.
When the boys found, to their joy, that all their exertions to arouse the motionless assembly were in vain,
they stepped up cautiously to the table, to examine
the strange company more closely.  It seemed as
though some assemblage of brave knights had been
overtaken by an evil spell in the midst of a banquet,
and turned to stone. At the head of the table, upon
which stood bowls, goblets, and beakers of mighty di



THE FAIRY TANKARD.              2 11
mensions, sat a stately old man in magnificent armour,
with a crown upon his head, and behind him stood two
pages, to one of whom he seemed to be giving some
command, while the other was handing him a goblet
of wine. There was an expression so serious, and at
the same time so kindly, in the old man's face, that it
must have inspired every one with confidence, and the
two boys were sorry indeed that he was just as stiff and
stony as the rest, and could give them no gentle answer
or look. The knights who sat upon his right and left
hand seemed to be absorbed in earnest conversation.
Some had just seized a goblet with one hand, while
they leaned with the other upon the table or the hilts
of their swords, gazing earnestly, meanwhile, into each
other's faces; and these faces, although they were
cold and stiff, wore such meaning expressions that one
could easily tell which had been speaking and which
listening.
There sat two, with their arms upon each other's
shoulders, gazing into the air. The expression upon
their faces was one of uncommon joviality, and one
could readily believe, seeing their laughing, half-opened
mouths, that a jolly drinking-song was just coming
from their lips.  The two boys passed, wondering,
around the table, and as they came behind the old man
with the crown they noticed that on either side of him
were two carved chairs, which were, however, empty.
Kuno, who was not so stout-hearted as Wolf, was still
a little afraid to go quite close to the company, and
was continually retreating to the bushes that bordered
the plain. But suddenly he started back with a loud
cry, for he discovered, under the trees, a large dog




212         THE FAIRY TANKARD.
sitting, while two horses, held by their bridles by a
squire, were looking down at him.  Wolf hastened
towards them, and soon found that these horses and
many more under the trees, with dogs and squires,
were as stiff and stony as their masters.
In the closer examination of everything, which even
Kuno was at last emboldened to make, they noticed at
the foot of the table a couple of forms that especially
attracted their attention. These were two rather elderly
men, one of whom was looking searchingly towards the
lake, with an expression of horror upon his earnest
features. One hand he held to his ear as though more
clearly to distinguish some sound, and with the other
he touched the shoulder of the man next to him to
excite his attention.  The latter, however, did not
heed him, but sat leaning back in his chair, emptying,
apparently with much satisfaction, a huge can which he
held to his lips.
Wolf and Kuno looked long at these two figures, and
exhausted themselves in guessing what could so have
excited the attention of one of these old lords. Kuno
looked over his shoulder in the same direction in
which the old lord was gazing, hoping to see something that might have attracted his gaze. But he could
see nothing except the black mirror of the lake. In
the mean time Wolf was observing the other lord
closely, and lamenting that he should have been disturbed just in the midst of his drinking. He made
many ridiculous speeches about him, and maintained
that he must have been the thirstiest of the party.
And now the fear which had at first overpowered the
boys vanished entirely, and, as they could not deter



THE FAIRY TANKARD.             213
mine whether these figures had been chiselled out of
stone by some great sculptor, or changed thus by magic
art, they troubled themselves no longer about it, but
were entertained for awhile with an examination of the
strange weapons, drinking-cups, dresses, and, at last,
even the horses and dogs. Wolf grew very courageous,
and mounted upon a war-horse, and, when Kuno saw
how brave and grand he looked, he mounted another,
and they both shouted for joy. After they had urged
their horses to step out, by shouting and spurring them
with their heels (great would have been their terror
had they budged an inch), they got down, and went
on with their examination. They seated themselves in
the two empty chairs at the head of the table, but
soon left them, for the face of the old man with the
crown looked down upon them with too reverend an air
for any levity on their part. Then they wandered again
around the table, and Wolf, standing before the lord
who was drinking, laughingly proposed that they should
pour some water into his goblet, that he might quench
his thirst. Kuno thought this a most excellent idea,
and, running down to the lake with his tankard, filled
it with water. Then Wolf took it, and, standing upon
tiptoe, poured it into the goblet, so that, in the position
in which the knight held his can, the water touched
his lips. In delight at the success of their attempt, the
boys laughed loudly. But suddenly Wolf's merriment
ceased, and he stared wildly at the knight's countenance, and the laughter died away upon Kuno's lips,
and, with a loud shriek, he threw himself into Wolf's
arms.
Who shall describe their fright when they saw the




214         THE FAIRY TANKARD.
lips in the cold stone face open and greedily drink the
water which Wolf had poured into the goblet, while
the eyes, before so lifeless, grew bright and beaming
and animated by a strange expression! As the water
flowed down his throat, the breast of the stone figure
began to heave, and life trembled in every limb of the
body. The old knight drew a couple of deep sighs,
with a sobbing sound, and placed the goblet slowly
upon the table. Then he turned his head and looked
with astonishment at his neighbour, whose cold hand
of stone, resting upon his shoulder, he felt and pressed,
with every sign of wonder.
The two boys, in their amazement, dropped upon
their knees, and looked up into the knight's countenance with pale faces and clasped hands, which, with
the dumb movement of their lips, implored forgiveness
for their insolent act, although fear deprived them of
utterance.  The newly-revived knight, after he had
looked round upon the whole company with the same
wonder with which he had regarded his next neighbour,
noticed the two kneeling children, and started up from
his chair, with a loud cry of wonder. Wolf, who now
saw that they had really done no very great harm in
converting a block of stone into a fine, living man,
collected himself, and told the knight, in a few words,
who they were, and what they had been doing, up to
the moment when they had quite accidentally recalled
nim  to life.  The knight stared at them with astonishment, and listened to their story with the same
wonder with which he inspired them. When they
mentioned the tankard, he approached them, and when
Kuno showed it and handed it to him, the old knight




THE FAIR Y TANKARD.            215
uttered a loud exclamation of delight, and, snatching
first the boys and then the tankard to his breast, he
cried out, while the tears ran down his gray beard,
"Now all our woes will end!"
Unwilling as Kuno was to part with his tankard, he
gave it at once to the knight, who hung it upon his arm,
and, as the evening was drawing on, told the boys to
follow him. They all three went down to the place on
the shore of the island where the boat was lying,
descended the steps and seated themselves in the skiff,
which instantly turned around and, without the help of
rudder or sail, glided quickly in the direction whence
the boys had come in the morning. They soon reached
the other shore, got out, and led the knight to the spot
where they could plainly see the castle beneath the
waters of the lake. There they sat down, and the old
knight looked into the water for a long time, and beckoned joyfully down into the depths. "Yes," cried he,
aloud, "you poor wretches below there will soon be
released,-the old castle will ascend from this black
water and reign over the valley around, as of old."
Wolf and Kuno, who listened attentively to the
knight's words, were very curious to know what connection he had with the castle below, and Wolf took
courage, and asked him.
The knight looked thoughtfully into the lake for
awhile longer, as though he were searching for something there, and then, turning to the boys, told them
the history of the castle, in the following words:
"The valley, in which we are, belonged, some time
ago, to King Dagobert, whom you saw sitting at the
table upon the island yonder, with his crown upon hie




2a6          THE FAIR Y TANKAR.
head. He lived contented and happy in his castle,
which was not then, as now, at the bottom of this lake,
but was beautifully situated in this valley, among the
surrounding mountains, in the midst of beautiful gardens and fruitful fields. The king was contented and
happy indeed, for he possessed everything to make life
pleasant. Unfortunately, his wife died, but before her
death she bore him two daughters, by whose cradles
there luckily stood two of those powerful beings called
Fairies. They took the place of a mother to the little
princesses, and nurtured them so carefully that they
grew up, the perfection of health and rare beauty. Instead of the gold, silver, and jewels with which, as
godmothers, they might have presented them, they endowed one of the fountains in the court-yard of the
castle with wonderful virtue, and made its waters so
efficacious that it cured all sickness of every description, and even defied the power of old age, for, although
the bloom of youth did not return to the aged who
quaffed it, they were enabled to live in perfect health
for many years longer. They also bestowed upon their
favourites a copper tankard-the same which I have
just obtained again through your assistance-to hold
this healing water.  When the two princesses were
tolerably well grown, these powerful protectors were
obliged, at their queen's command, to leave the valley,
and did not conceal from the king that the care and
attention which they had bestowed upon his daughters
had attracted the notice of a mighty but evil spirit,
who made it his business to interfere with and frustrate
all their good intentions, and who would not fail to
work any ill that he could in this case. As everything




THE FAIR Y TANKARD.              21 7
under ground was subject to his will, the water which
flows out of the earth was within his dominion, even
the water of the healing fountain. In order to make
of no avail this power, which worked mischief whereever it could, the fairies begged the king to hold the
unpretending copper tankard in high honour, and
never to allow water to be brought from the fountain
in any other vessel, for thus only could the power of
the subterranean spirit be restrained and be hindered
from poisoning the water with evil properties, or causing it to overflow so as to overwhelm all that the
valley contained.
"The king promised faithfully to follow their directions, and the fairies departed, calling down all manner
of blessings upon the heads of their young charges.
Then the king had the fountain surrounded in the costliest manner by carved marble, and roofed in with
rosewood, and this gorgeous building had only one
little door, for which the king had a most cunning
lock contrived, the key of which he carried in his
own girdle, never allowing any one else to have it for
a moment. As he was not in the least selfish, and
never grudged to any one the use of the healing
water, at certain hours old and young, rich and poor,
assembled in the court-yard of the castle, and King
Dagobert himself unlocked the fountain and took good
care that no other vessel except the copper tankard was
used to draw the water. In a short time the water had
done so much good that it excited, of course, the envy
of the evil spirit, who had tried in many ways to steal
the tankard, or to ruin the lock with which the king
guarded his treasure. Several times the monarch found,
19




I28         THE FAIRY TANKARD.
in the place where the tankard was kept, two tankards
so precisely alike that he would have had great difficulty in distinguishing the real from the false one, if
the fairies had not inspired the two princesses with a
never-failing power of detecting at a glance what was
false and wrong. And sometimes ambassadors or even
princes came from strange courts to taste of the wonderful water of which they had heard so much, and
would entreat King Dagobert to allow them to draw it
in their own vessels. But the king remembered well
the caution which the fairies had given him, and knew
that the evil spirit would use every means in his power
to turn the gift to harm."
At these words the knight stopped speaking for a
moment, looked, sighing, down into the black lake,
and then continued, "But ah! careful and determined
as the king was to guard his precious possession, he was
overreached at last. There came a day when King
Dagobert commanded the noonday tables to be spread
upon that island where you found me, which was then
only a lovely green hillock, rising gently from the
valley. It was a glorious day, and, after the king, the
two princesses, and we-his train-had taken a ride
over the neighbouring mountains, we dismounted upon
that hill, where the tables stood ready. The squires,
with the horses and dogs, withdrew into the bushes,
and we seated ourselves at table amid heaping dainties
and flowing wine-cups. At the head sat the king, with
the two princesses on either side of him, while behind
his chair were several foot-pages to fulfil his commands.
The tankard, which he took with him upon all his
pleasure-excursions, stood upon the table before him.




THE FAIRY TANiKARD.             2I9
"Thus we sat, and the air was so pure and bracing,
the day was so beautiful, that care and sad thoughts
vanished from every breast, and all were cheerful and
merry. Then I noticed that a ragged beggar, who had
walked around the hill several times, ascended the
elevation and approached King Dagobert. When he
reached the table, he dropped upon his knees and entreated the king in the most humble and moving manner to give him a draught of the wondrous water. The
king, unwilling to rise from the table, requested him to
come to the castle at the end of an hour. But the
beggar insisted that it was only at this moment that the
water could do him any good, as his pains were just
now more severe than ever. When the princesses saw
that the king was loth to leave his wine-cup, they turned
to him and begged him to trust them with the tankard
and the key, and they would go alone with the beggar
down to the castle, and get him a drink of the water.
The two young maidens were weary of sitting still, and
begged their father so earnestly that at last he gave
them the tankard and the key. He warned them to be
very cautious, and they ran down the hill towards the
castle.  The beggar followed.  Not one suspicious
thought occurred to any one of us sitting around. The
castle was quite near, and we could follow the princesses
with our eyes. They went to the fountain, opened the
door, drew the water in the tankard, and then seemed
to ask the beggar whether he had no vessel in which
to receive his draught. He shook his head, and, as just
at this moment I put my goblet to my lips, I cannot
tell whether the two princesses put it themselves to
his mouth, or whether he snatched it from them. I




220          THE FAIRY TANKARD.
only saw him waving the tankard in the air with a
shout of triumph, and, as he instantly sank into the
ground, we knew that the evil spirit had overreached
us. I tried to rise from my seat, but I could not. I
could not even take the goblet from my mouth, but
felt as though it had grown fast to my lips. I wondered
that some of the other knights did not spring up and
rush to the assistance of the two princesses, who were
vainly trying to close the door of the fountain against
the flood of water that was welling from it. But all
who were sitting at the table seemed to be spellbound like myself. No sound escaped their lips, and
even the barking of the dogs, who had been playing in
the thicket, ceased with a troubled whine, and everything around us was still. A thick mist arose before
my eyes, but, although I could see the fountain and the
court-yard only indistinctly through it, I could perceive
fresh and mighty floods of water were bursting forth.
The princesses screamed for help, but no one went to
their aid. Already the water had flooded the whole
court-yard, and was slowly ascending the walls and
turrets. Soon nothing more was to be seen of the unhappy princesses. The water was half-way up the great
tower,-then it reached the roof, and then only the
peak was visible. The next moment this vanished also,
and only an ever-widening circle on the surface of the
water still showed for a few moments where a stately
castle had once stood.
"And we, meanwhile, were paralyzed not only with
fear, but by the magic of the enchanter.  Not only
could we stir no limb for the moment, but the blood in
our veins seemed to turn to stone,-the life within us




THE FAIRY TANKARD.              221
grew cold. Each one remained in the same position,
and even with the same expression in his face and
figure, as at the fatal moment when the sorcerer waved
the tankard triumphantly in the air. Our eyes grew
dim, and all was night before us. And thus we sat, day
after day, night after night, for weeks and months,
until hundreds of years have passed away."
This was the knight's story, to which the boys eagerly
listened.  Darkness had now set in, and they took
their friend to the little house, and told him about the
two snakes who had the evening before been turned
into two lovely young girls. Wolf spoke of the crowns
that they wore, and the knight soon recognized from
his description the two young princesses, and saw that
they must still be under the protection of the good
fairies, who had probably placed this little cottage here,
where the two sisters could pass every third night
together in their natural shapes.
The two boys lay down upon the silken beds, and
their companion upon the floor, and thus all three
slept until the golden morning dawned. Then they
awoke joyfully, and the knight began to consider
earnestly how he could bring about the disenchantment
of the castle.  Although the day before, this had
seemed an easy task, upon a closer view the matter
presented many difficulties. He was in possession of
the magic vessel that could restrain the power of the
evil spirit, but he could not find out how he was to
make use of it He knew of no magic word or spell
whereby he could bind and rule the black water.
The good knight was, in truth, in no small perplexity.
He went to the shore of the lake with the two boys,
19*




222          THE FAIRY TANKARD.
and was about to sail over to the island and attempt to
revive all who were sitting around the table, when suddenly it occurred to the brave and faithful courtier,
how much better it would be if, when his master should
recover his consciousness, he could see his castle and
valley as lovely as ever before him, freed from all evil
spells! And, although the knight knew of no magic
word to effect all this, it was his duty, he thought, to
venture all for his lord and master, be the end what it
might.  Occupied with these thoughts, the knight
seated himself with the two boys in the little boat,
which immediately began its voyage across the lake.
When they had reached the middle of the black water,
the knight suddenly arose, and said, "My dear children, sit still, and let me make one attempt, whether it
succeeds or not, to deliver this valley from the spell
now resting upon it. I will try, with the help of this
tankard, to close and lock the door of the fountain,
that the water may no longer gush forth."
The boys hardly understood what these words meant,
but uttered a loud scream of terror when they saw
their friend spring into the black lake and immediately
vanish. Kuno clasped his hands despairingly, more in
sorrow for his tankard than for the knight, and Wolf
could not help suspecting that this might be another
bad spirit, who had thus robbed them of their treasure.
But, whilst they sat there and Kuno wept aloud, they
heard beneath them the noise as of a door shutting
violently, and a few moments afterwards the astonished
boys noticed a remarkable change in the lake around
them. It began to be troubled and to foam up, and
then they perceived that the waters were diminishing.




THE FAIR Y TA NKARD.            223
Black clouds overspread the heavens, and these clouds
lowered over the lake, and seemed to drink up the
water from it. Each moment these clouds grew darker
with the black water that they absorbed, and, when
they were quite full, they moved away above the
mountain-tops and gave place to other thirsty clouds.
Thus the water in the lake sank more and more
rapidly. Soon, right by the rocking skiff, the spire of
a tower appeared above the water, and then the whole
roof of the tower followed. Upon this spire, and under
the overhanging roof, the boys noticed, with surprise,
crows, swallows, and other birds, who were sleeping,
apparently, with their heads under their wings. But
no sooner were they above water than they all woke up.
The ravens and crows flew high into the air to see what
was the matter, and the swallows skimmed above the
water to procure gnats and other insects for food, as
they had been a long time without any. Soon other
walls appeared on each side of the boys,-smaller
towers, with buttresses, behind which stood men-atarms leaning on their spears and seeming to be asleep.
But no sooner did the fresh air play around them in
place of the stagnant black water of the lake, than they
stretched and stamped, and, yawning loudly, gazed
inquiringly about them.
And now the roof of the castle itself appeared above
the surface of the lake, and, if the boys had been surprised at the awakening of the birds and the squires
upon the towers, their admiration and wonder reached
the highest pitch when they saw how men and animals
swarmed about every story as the waters sank. Here,




224          THE HFAIRY TANKARD.
a couple of stable-boys were seen measuring out prov.
ender in the granary, while below maids were opening
all the windows and doors to let fresh air into the
king's apartments. But in the kitchen the bustle was
the greatest and most manifold, for just when the spell
was laid upon them, three hundred years before, the
head-cook had been preparing the dessert for the
king's table, and was disturbed in the midst of this
weighty affair.  The scullions were running about,
arranging dishes full of pastry, confectionery, rare
fruits, and other costly refreshments, while other attendants in gold-bordered doublets took these dishes
to carry them up the hill.
The skiff, with the boys, sank deeper and deeper, till
the castle stood before them just as grand and stately as
the knight had described it, and they found themselves
at last floating upon what was only a little pond. The
skiff was near the shore, and the boys sprang out
into the lovely garden. They ran around the castle
quickly to find the old knight, and, when they entered
the court-yard, saw him standing by the fountain, on
the brink of which was the tankard.  But the two
princesses whom they had seen in the little house were
in his arms, and all three were weeping for joy. The
boys, too shy to approach them, paused a few steps
off, and were so moved with all that they had seen
that the tears were rolling down their cheeks also.
Suddenly a great uproar arose upon the hill, which a
little while before had been an island above the surface
of the black lake.  Hunting-horns sounded, horses
neighed, and dogs bayed. All there awoke to life, and




THE FAIRY TANKARD.              225
King Dagobert arose at the head of his table and
called loudly to his children. In the castle court-yard
they all dismounted from their horses, and there was
no end to the delight and joy. Then the old knight
told how it was the two boys who had delivered the
valley from the spell under which it had lain, and presented them to the king, who inquired about their
previous history, and, as the famous race of Schreckenberg was well known to him, he received with favour
the last scion of that race, and Wolf, too, whose riper
years and courage had assisted not a little in the deliverance of the spell-bound valley.
And the old joyous life began again in the king's
castle, disturbed by no more evil spirits. When Kuno
and Wolf, after a few years, had been instructed in
all knightly exercises, and had wandered through the
land, killing giants and defending innocent women and
children, they came one day to the site of the castle
of Schreckenberg, and there in a miserable hovel they
found an old man who had fought and fallen, but not
died, with Fritz of Schreckenberg.  As he knew of
the immense buried treasure, he had carefully preserved
it, and now handed it over to the heir, who took it
with him to the court of King Dagobert.  In the
course of time the noble knights Kuno and Wolf (for
the latter received knighthood from King Dagobert
himself) won the love of the two princesses, so that
their royal father could not refuse his consent to this
double marriage.
The old man told how his master, Fritz of Schreckenberg, had brought home the tankard from one of
P




226         THE FAIRY TANKARD.
his marauding excursions. But, as it presented so
mean an appearance, it was thrown aside in the lumber-room and forgotten.
King Dagobert recognized, in the dream which had
made such an impression upon the dying countess, the
influence of the beneficent fairy, who had ordered all
events for good,
Im u=




Fate at the Door.
A NOVEL.
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The True George Washington.
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uproarious laughs."-Philadelphia Evening Bulletin.
"Those who admire the fnnniments of Bill Nye will enjoy many a hearty
laugh at his quaint and curious way of presenting historical facts."-Boston Saturday Evening Gazette.
"One cannot forbear a smile over these truly comic sketches." —Public
Ledger, Philadelphia.
" Everybody with any sense of humor in their souls will be entertained-and
instructed, too-by its perusal."-Boston Home Journal.
" The greatest enjoyment will be derived from it."-Chicago Journal.
" The book is bound to be a great success."-New York School Journal.
" The best thing Bill Nye has ever done. There is real worth in it."-Pkila
delAhia To-Day.
J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA.




BILL NYE'S POSTHUMOUS WORK.
A Comic History of England.
From the Druids to the Reign of Henry VIII.
By BILL NYEJ.
Profusely illustrated by W. M. GOODES and A. M. RICHARDS.
Crown 8vo. Cloth, $1.25.
" It is Nye's masterpiece."
St. Louis Post-Dishatch.
"It is written in the author's best vein."-Pittsburg
Chronicle Telegralh.
"The fun of the book is
good and well sustained, and
the illustrations are amusing."
-Boston Congregationalist.
l/ ^a, j>,        " There is a vast amount of.fun to be found between the
-l|ll,M" J ^.covers of this book. Many a
hearty laugh will end in a sigh'l'llra qlnljf9,J[~ *    of regret that the time is past
when any new work from Mr.
JOAN OF ARC INDUCES THE KING TO BELIEVE
THE TRUTH OF HER MISSION.             Nye's pen will move the world
to laughter. How surely does
he find the weak spot and dance upon it to the delectation of his crowd of admirers I  How absolutely absurd he makes those ancient monarchs and their
reigns I What fun history is viewed across the pages of this humorist's book 
His satire is so keen, so amusing I W. M. Goodes and A. M. Richards have
added greatly to the humor of the book by their illustrations. Twenty pages of
these complete the work left unfinished by the illness and death of the author."Cleveland Critic.
"This comic History of England was evidently written in the author's best
vein of humor, as well as with the strong attempt of making a funny history an
instructive one; for, throughout, he follows and adheres to dates and events with an
historian's accuracy. The illustrations are no small portion of its attractiveness,
adding greatly to an appreciation of the text, as they certainly do."-Boston
Courier.
J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA.




BY JULIA HELEN TWELLS, JR.
A Triumph of Destiny.
I2mo. Cloth, deckle edges, $1.25.
" It is a book of uncommon characters and end-of-century problems; a story
of strength told with interest and conviction.... The book is well worth reading."
-Philadelphia Press.
" Miss Twells is evidently a woman of extensive mental resources, who thinks
deeply and clearly. Her story commands admiration and consequent attention
from the first. There are not many characters, but about the few are clustered
events of significance, and their relation to each other and to their own individual
development is analyzed with strength and clearness."- Washington Times.
BY MRS. OLIPHANT.
The Unjust Steward.
I2mo.  Cloth, $1.25.
"We have an admirable study of an old Scotch minister oppressed by the consciousness of a very venial fault in a small financial transaction. The tone is one
of cheerful humor, the incidents are skilfully devised, verisimilitude is never sacrificed to effect, every episode is true to life."-Philadelphia Press.
BY ARTHUR PATERSON.
For Freedom's Sake.
I2mo. Cloth, $1.25.
"The subject-matter of this book is the desperate battle between freedom and
slavery for possession of Kansas. One of the strongest characters introduced is
old John Brown. A charming love story is naturally incidental, and the element
of humor is by no means lacking."-New York World.
J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA.




By Florence Belknap Gilmour.
TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF
LtON DE TINSEAU.
I2mo. Cloth, $x.oo per volume.
In Quest of the Ideal.
"It possesses distinct interest, and there are not a few passages which com.
mand our deepest feelings."-Philadeliphia Evening Bulletin.
" This story owes much of its charm to the skill of the translator, Florence
Belknap Gilmour, who has translated several other of this author's books, and who
has been able to catch his style in a way rarely met with. The characters are care.
fully and naturally drawn, and there is a great deal of dialogue which is bright."Boston Tines.
" The story has a strong, uplifting tone throughout, and the seriousness and
the crusading spirit of these modern seekers for the ideal, is shared by every individual in the novel, as well as by the reader. The translator reproduces the original
with a master knowledge.  Her choice of words is smooth and easy, and they
convey exactly the meaning the author meant they should."-Boston Courier.
A Forgotten Debt.
"The story reads as if it were a true life tale, told simply and with none of
the unpleasant element found repulsive to American taste in many of the latest
French novels. It is healthful and hearty, and well suited for summer's day perusal by old or young."-Boston Transcript.
" A very interesting novel which tells of life in the French provinces and metropolis, and also in an American frontier military post, and depicts the local
atmosphere of all three-a difficult feat, which shows the versatility and analytical
and descriptive powers of the author. The plot is interesting, and holds the attention of the reader from beginning to end."-Detroit Tribune.
J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA.




By Elizabeth Phipps Train
ISSUED IN THE LOTOS LIBRARY.
ILLUSTRATED.  l6MO.  POLISHED
BUCKRAM. 75 CENTS PER VOL.
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
A PROFESSIONAL BEAUTY.
" It is an interesting confession, admirably written, and the story throughout
is delightfully fresh and vivacious."-Pkilhadet ia Evening Bulitin.
" The author gives in this handsome little book a charming glimpse of ultra.
fashionable English society. It has an air of truth which makes its moral the more
impressive, and the characters are well drawn."-Columbus Evening Dispatch.
" This is a profoundly interesting love story. Its plot is simple, natural, and
lif-like-often approaching the tragic. The dangers from the abuse of the powers
of hypnotism are strikingly illustrated."-Chicago lsnr-Ocas.
A SOCIAL HIGHWAYMAN.
" There is a consistency of bold purpose in the book which makes ft the revrse of mawkish. It is a kind of modernized Dick Turpin."-Ckicago Time.
Herald.
"'A Social Highwayman,' a small and dainty volume in Lippincott's Lotos
Library, is a distinctly interesting, almost a fascinating, story."-BreoohZy  Dain
Eaglr.
" The J. B. Lippincott Company has issued in the Lotos Lbrary, in a handome little volume, with illustrations,'A Social Highwayman,' by Elizabeth Phipps
Train, which originally appeared in Lijzincdt's Magasine. This thrillingly dra
matic story, always intensely absorbing, has acquired a new interest since it was
turned into a play, and many will be anxious to compare it with the drama which
bears the same name. The tale has abundant life and movement, and commands
and retains attentioa."-Ba-B on Satuday Evemig Gawttw.
J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA.




ISSUED IN
Lippincott's
Series of Select Novels.
I2mo.  Paper, 50 cents; cloth, $l.oo.
"'Lippincott's Select Novels' is a series that is most properly named. The
reader may select at random from the long list of titles with the certainty of getting
a good novel."-N. Y. Bookseller.
Lady Val's Elopement.
By JOHN BICKERDYKE.
" The story is full of the brightest interest throughout, and several charming
romances are interwoven with the main tale. The author shows remarkable skill
in the formation of his plot, and several delightful characters are introduced. The
bright spirit of the story does not lag for a moment."-Boston Home Journal.
The Failure of Sibyl Fletcher.
By ADELINE SERGEANT.
" This new novel by Adeline Sergeant, whose previous works have attracted
more than usual attention, is a story of English life, and is a fascinating study of
character. The plot is original, is ingeniously developed, the dialogue bright and
sparkling, and the situations artistically arranged. On the whole it is one of the
best of the select novel series."-Boston Advertiser.
Heavy Odds.
By MARCUS CLARKE.
"The story is good, running along with thrilling enough interest to keep the
reader's attention faithfully unto the end. It is just the book to take with one on a
journey or to spend an evening with. We recommend it heartily to the lover of
an entertaining story." —Cleveland Critic.
J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA.




BY "THE DUCHESS."
The Three Graces.
With 6 full-page illustrations. I2mo. Cloth, $1.25.
" The scene and the pictures are English or Irish, and there is a great deal of
fresh, sparkling, amusing young life and talk in the book. It is certainly sweet
and wholesome and full of fun."- The Congregationalist.
BY ANNE H. WHARTON.
A Last Century Maid.
A Juvenile.
Quarto. Illustrated. Cloth, ornamental, $I.50.
"The volume is a small quarto, beautifully printed, and bound in ornamental
cloth, and it is embellished with several full-page illustrations. The first three
stories deal with colonial days in the vicinity of Philadelphia, and a more charming
picture than that drawn of the little colonial Quaker maid we have never seen
drawn by the pen. The second story is that of a little girl who was stolen by the
Indians and brought up by them with great affection; the third is a delightful
story of'Christmas in Seventeen Seventy-Six,' and the others are all very charming. It is a book that children will read, fall in love with, and read again repeatedly.
One of the most touchingly beautiful stories that we ever read is'A Dog and a
Sunbeam in Prison,' and its lesson of love will sink into every heart."-Boston
Home Journal.
BY LAURA T. MEAD.
Catalina, Art Student.
With 8 full-page illustrations. I2mo. Cloth, $1.25.
"An attractive story has been made of the details of the art student's life in London. Catalina is an artistic girl of Spanish descent, beautiful and winning. The
tale of her struggles and devotion to art is pleasantly told."-San Francisco Bulletin.
J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA.




By Julien Gordon.
"Now and then, to prove to men-perhaps also to prove to
themselves-what they can do if they dare and will, one of
these gifted women detaches herself from her sisters, enters the
arena with men, to fight for the highest prizes, and as the
brave Gotz says of Brother Martin,'shames many a knight.'
To this race of conquerers belongs to-day one of thefirst living
writers of novels and romances, Julien Gordon."
FRIEDERICH SPIELHAGEN.
A WEDDING, and Other Stories.
POPPAEA.
A DIPLOMAT'S DIARY.
A SUCCESSFUL MAN.
VAMPIRES, AND MADEMOISELLE RESEDA.
Two stories in one book.
l2mo. Cloth, $x.oo per volume.
" The cleverness and lightness which characterized' A Diplomat's Diary' ar
not wanting in the later work of the American lady who writes under the pseudonyme of Julien Gordon. In her former story the dialogue is pointed and alert, the
characters are clear-cut and distinct, and the descriptions picturesque. As for the
main idea of' A Successful Man,' the intersection of two wholly different strata of
American life,-one fast and fashionable, the other domestic and decorous,-it is
worked out with much skill and alertness of treatment to its inevitably tragic
issue."-New York World.
J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA.




By Mrs. Lindon W. Bates.
Bunch-Grass Stories.
I2mo. Cloth, $1.25.
There is uncommon freshness, like a wind from  the wide plains,
in these tales called Bunch-Grass Stories. They are the work of a
writer who observes and seizes the picturesque traits in every land
where fortune happens to call her, and her travels have evidently
been many and far away.  She has, likewise, much reading, which
she puts to good account in stories that impart the ring of truth to
classic episodes.
A Blind Lead.
The Story of a vMinie
I2mo. Cloth, $1.25.
"  A Blind Lead' is certainly a powerful book. We took it up indifferently
enough, but we had read a few pages only before we found it was no ordinary
work by no ordinary writer. A good deal of skill is shown in the drawing of character. There are no dull pages, and the interest is continuous from the first chapter
to the last."-Boston Advertiser.
A Nameless Wrestler.
I2mo.  Paper, 50 cents; cloth, $I.oo.
"Her story,'A Blind Lead,' was very promising, and it is followed by an
extremely interesting tale,' A Nameless Wrestler.' Here is something outside the
hackneyed course of fiction-fresh, strong, fascinating, dramatic, and wholesomescenes laid in an unfamiliar country, though our own, and characters human enough
to be all the more interesting because touched with strange traits by virtue of environment."-Detroit Tribune.
J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA.




By Frances Courtenay Baylor.
On Both Sides.
I2mo.  Cloth, $I.25.' A novel, entertaining from beginning to end, with brightness that never falls
flat, that always suggests something beyond thelmere amusement, that will be most
enjoyed by those of most cultivation, that is clever, keen, and intellectual enough
to be recognized as genuine wit, and yet good-natured and amiable enough to be
accepted as the most delightful humor. It is not fun, but intelligent wit: it is not
mere comicality, but charming humor; it is not a collection of bright sayings of
clever people, but a reproduction of ways of thought and types of manner infinitely
entertaining to the reader, while not in the least funny to the actor, or intended by
him to appear funny. It is inimitably good as a rendering of the peculiarities of
British and American nature and training, while it is so perfectly free from anything
like ridicule, that the victims would be the first to smile."- Tht Critic.
Behind the Blue Ridge.
I2mo. Cloth, $I.25.
" It is lighted through and through by humor as subtle and spontaneous as any
that ever brightened the dark pages of life history, and is warmed by that keen
sympathy and love for human nature which transfigures and ennobles everything it
touches."-Chicago Tribune.
" intensely dramatic in construction, rich in color, picturesque in description,
and artistic in its setting. No more delightful picture of the every-day life of the
Virginia mountaineers could well be imagined."-Philadelphia Record.
A Shocking Example, and Other Sketches.
I2mo.  Cloth, $1.25.
"Rarely have we enjoyed a more delightful series of literary entertainments
than have been afforded by the handsome volume containing fourteen stories and
sketches from the bright pen of Frances Courtenay Baylor, whose'On Both Sides'
has won for her so enviable a reputation on both sides of the Atlantic."-Beoto4
Home Journal.
Miss Baylor's complete works (" A  Shocking Example," "On
Both Sides," and "Behind the Blue Ridge"), three volumes, in
box, $3.75.
J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA.




By Mrs. Molesworth.
Philippa.
Illustrated.   i2mo.  Cloth, $1.25.
"Mrs. Molesworth's books are always interesting, particularly to girls. This
story tells of the adventures of a young girl, Philippa, who, in the capacity of a
lady's maid, accompanies her married sister on a visit to the latter's connections by
marriage. Many complications ensue, which are graphically told."-Norristown
Herald.
Olivia.
Illustrated.  I2mo.  Cloth, $I.25.
"The girls everywhere will gratefully thank Mrs. Molesworth for giving them
this pure, unconstrained, sympathy-moving story of one of their own age and ex.
perience, to whom their hearts will go out warmly as they conclude their pleasant
reading of her creation."-Boston Courier.
Molesworth Library for Girls.
OLIVIA. PHILIPPA.
2 volumes.  Illustrated.  I2mo.  Cloth, $2.50.
" Mrs. Molesworth is too well known as a successful and discriminating writer
of stories for girls to need one word said in her praise. Her name upon the titlepage of a book is sufficient guarantee of its worthiness to be placed in the hands of
the girls of the family."-Boston Home Journal.
" This author wins her host of readers through her evident desire to place them
in immediate touch with the plans, the secrets, the hopes and the fears of her inimitable characterizations, and to make them, at least, cognizant of every mystery,
if there be any, that surrounds the personale of her stories. Her art as a storywriter is not emphasized by any subterfuge, but one perceives, with every step, her
skill and the wholesome design invariably in view."-Boston Courier.
"Mrs. Molesworth stands unrivalled as a writer for young girls. She understands the art perfectly, and never by indifference fails to remember the essential
things that have won for her so many devoted readers. She knows just where to
draw the line between a girl's story and a love story."-Cleveland Critic.
J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA.




By Effie Adelaide Rowlands.
"My Pretty Jane I"
I2mo. Cloth, uncut, $I.oo.
"A sweeter love-story than' My Pretty Jane' has not been written in many a
day. The writer has an interesting and attractive story to tell, and she telis it
simply, cleverly, daintily; keeping the reader's attention on her characters, and
never once calling attention to her own wit or her own wisdom or her own'views.' "-New York World.
The Fault of One.
I2mo.  Paper, 50 cents; cloth, $I.oo.
" The story is a fascinating one and is bound to hold the closest attention of
any reader from beginning to close. It follows the fortunes of a young man who,
by strength and purpose of will, finds his way out of every seeming difficulty, and
reaches his goal in triumph, amid the unsought applause of his friends."-Boston
Courier.
The Spell of Ursula.
I2mo. Paper, 50 cents; cloth, $I.oo.
"The writer invests the simple things of life with a charm which admits her
at once to the reader's friendship. In the novel she introduces Ursula, a sphnixlike character, combining all sorts of undesirable qualities with a peculiar power of
fascination."-Minneapolis Tribune.
A Faithful Traitor.
I2mo. Paper, 50 cents; cloth, $I.oo.
" In'A Faithful Traitor,' the author has done something more than to place
before us the people and the events of an ordinary love affair. It is a story ihat is
entirely original in its conception and construction, and is excellently worked out."
-Boston Courier.
J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA.