Library of W. i. Merrill 
 
 No. .4^. 
 
 Date, ^"^U^yp^ i2.y /^ / /^(T^'^C*^ 
 
 W • 
 
 C08t,.../^i|L, 
 
 " A library is like a lexicon : a volume lent Is a page gone.'' 
 
 ^ 
 
THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 IN MEMORY OF 
 
 PROFESSOR WILLIAM MERRILL 
 
 AND 
 
 MRS. IMOGENE MERRILL 
 
UNDINE. 
 
UNDINE 
 
 AND OTHER TALES 
 
 FRIEDRICH, BARON DE LA MOTTE FOUQUE 
 
 UNDINE, THE TWO CAPTAINS, ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT, 
 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS 
 
 With Illustrations by H. IV. Herrick 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 PUBLISHED BY HURD AND HOUGHTON 
 
 C^amfiritiffe: ®:]be Etbemtie Presc 
 
 1878 
 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1867, by 
 
 HURD AND IIOCTGHTON, 
 
 the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern District of 
 New York. 
 
 -S^ ^MoO-^^N ^ 
 
 GIFT 
 
 RIVERSIDE, CAMBRIDGE: 
 
 •TEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BT 
 
 U. 0. HOUGHTON AND COMPANY 
 

 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PAOl 
 
 How THE Knight came to thk Fishersian's Cottage 1 
 CHAPTER H. 
 
 How UXDIN'E FIRST CAME TO THE FiSHERMAN . . 9 
 
 CHAPTER HI. 
 How THEY fou:nd Undine again 16 
 
 CHAPTER LV. 
 Of what had befallen the Knight in the Forest 21 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 Of the Life wnicri the Knight led on the Island . 29 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 Op a Bridal . 35 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 How the rest of the Evening passed away . 42 
 
 CHAPTER VIH. 
 The Day after the Marrcage 46 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 How THE Knight and his young Bride departed . 53 
 
 f/iwao^s 
 
IV CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 PAOl 
 
 Of theik Way of Lifk in the Town .... 59 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 Bertalda's Birthday . . . . . . . .64 
 
 CHAPTER XH. 
 
 How THEY LEFT THE ImPEUIAL CiTY .... 71 
 
 CHAPTER XHI. 
 
 How THEY LIVED IN THE CasTLE OF RiNGSTETTEN 76 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 How Bertalda drove Home with the Knight . 85 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 The Trip to Vienna 93 
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 Of wriAT befell Huldbrand afterwards . . 100 
 
 CHAPTER XVJI. 
 The Knight's Dream 105 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 Of the Knight Huldbrand's second Bridal . . 108 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 How the Knight Huldbrand was Interred . . 114 
 
UNDINE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 HOW THE KNIGHT CAME TO THE FISHERMAN*8 
 COTTAGE. 
 
 Once — it may be some hundreds of years ago — 
 there^ lived a good old Fisherman, who, on a fine 
 summer's evening, was sitting before the door 
 mending his nets. He dwelt in a land of exceed- 
 ing beauty. The green slope, upon which he had 
 built his hut, stretched far out into a great lake ; 
 and it seemed either that the cape, enamored of 
 the glassy blue waters, had pressed forward into 
 their bosom, or that the lake had lovingly folded in 
 its arms the blooming promontory, with her waving 
 grass and flowers, and the refreshing shade of her 
 tall trees. Each bade the other welcome, and in- 
 creased its own beauty by so doing. This lovely 
 nook was scarcely ever visited by mankind, except 
 by the Fisherman and his family. For behind the 
 promontory lay a very wild forest, which, besides 
 being gloomy and pathless, had too bad a name as 
 1 
 
2 UNDINE. 
 
 the resort of wondrous spirits and goblins, to be 
 crossed by any one who could help it. Yet the 
 pious old Fisherman went through it without being 
 molested, whenever he walked to a large city beyond 
 the forest, to dispose of the costly fish that he cauglit 
 in the lake. For him, indeed, there was little danger, 
 even in that forest ; for his thoughts were almost all 
 thoughts of devotion, and his custom was to carol 
 forth to Heaven a loud and heartfelt hymn, on first 
 setting foot within the treacherous shades. 
 
 As he sat this evening most peacefully over his 
 nets, he was startled in an unwonted manner by a 
 rustling sound in the forest, like that of a man and 
 horse ; and the noise came nearer and nearer. The 
 dreams he had had in many a stormy night of the 
 spirits of the forest started up before his mind, par- 
 ticularly the image of a gigantic long snow-white 
 man, who kept nodding his head mysteriously. Nay, 
 as he raised his eyes and looked into the forest, he 
 could fancy he saw, through the thick screen of 
 leaves, the nodding creature advance toward him. 
 But he soon composed himself, recollecting that 
 even in the h^art of the woods nothing had ever 
 befallen him ; much less here, in the open air, could 
 the bad spirits have power to touch him. He more- 
 over repeated a text from the Bible aloud and ear- 
 nestly, which quite restored his courage, and he 
 almost laughed to see how his fancy had misled him. 
 The white nodding man suddenly resolved himself 
 into a little brook he knew of old, which gushed 
 
UNDINE. 3 
 
 bubbling out of the wood, and emptied itself into 
 the lake. And the rustling 'had been caused by a 
 horseman in gorgeous attire, who now came forward 
 toward the hut from beneath tshe trees. 
 
 He wore a scarlet mantle over his purple, gold- 
 embroidered jerkin ; a plume of red and purple 
 feathers waved over his gold-colored barret-cap ; 
 and from his golden belt hung a glittering jeweled 
 sword. The white courser which carried him was 
 of lighter make than the generality of chargers, and 
 trod so airily, that the enameled turf seemed 
 scarcely to bend under him. The aged Fisherman 
 could not quite shake off his uneasiness, although he 
 told himself that so noble a guest could bring him 
 no harm, and accordingly doffed his hat courteously, 
 and interrupted his work when he approached. 
 
 The Knight reined in his horse, and asked whether 
 they could both obtain One night's shelter. 
 
 " As to your horse, good sir," answered the Fish- 
 erman, " I have no better stable to offer him than 
 the shady meadow, and no provender but the grass 
 which grows upon it. But you shall yourself be 
 heartily welcome to my poor house, and to the best 
 of my supper and night lodging." 
 
 The stranger seemed quite content; he dis- 
 mounted, and they helped each other to take off the 
 horse's girth and saddle, after which the Knight let 
 him graze on the flowery pasture, saying to his host, 
 " Even if I had found you less kind and hospitable, 
 ny good old man, you must have borne with me till 
 
4 JNDINE. 
 
 to-morrow ; for I see we are shut m by a wide lake, 
 and Heaven forbid that I should cross the haunted 
 forest again at nightfall ! " 
 
 " We will not say much about that," replied the 
 Fisherman ; and he led his guest into the cottage. 
 
 There, close by the hearth, from whence a scanty 
 jfire shed its glimmering light over the clean little 
 room, sat the Fisherman's old wife. When their no- 
 ble guest came in, she rose to give him a kind wel 
 come, but immediately resumed her place of honor, 
 without offering it to him ; and the Fisherman said 
 with a smile : " Do not take it amiss, young sir, if 
 she does not give up to you the most comfortable 
 place ; it is the custom among us poor people, that 
 it should always belong to the oldest." 
 
 " Why, husband ! " said his wife quietly, " what 
 are you thinking of? Our guest is surely a Christian 
 gentleman, and how could it come into his kind 
 young heart to turn old people out of their places ? 
 Sit down, my young lord," added she, turning to 
 the Knight ; " there stands a very comfortable chair 
 for you ; only remember it must not be too roughly 
 handled, for one leg is not so steady as it has been." 
 The Knight drew the chair carefully forward, seated 
 himself sociably, and soon felt quite at home in this 
 little household, and as if he had just returned jo it 
 from a far journey. 
 
 The three friends began to converse openly and 
 familiarly together. First the Knight asked a few 
 questions about the forest, but the old man would 
 
UNDINE. t 
 
 not say much of that ; least of all, said he, was it fit- 
 ting to talk of such things at nightfall ; but, on 
 household concerns, and their own way of life, the 
 old folks talked readily ; and were pleased when the 
 Knight told them of his travels, and that he had a 
 castle near the source of the Danube, and that his 
 name was Lord Huldbrand of Ringstetten. In the 
 middle of their discourse, the stranger often observed 
 a noise outside the small window, as if some one 
 were dashing water against it. The old man knit 
 his brows and looked grave whenever this occurred ; 
 at last, when a great splash of water came full 
 against the panes, and some found its way into the 
 room, he could bear it no longer, but started up, 
 crying, " Undine ! will you never leave off these 
 childish tricks, — when we have a stranger gentle- 
 man in the house too ! " This produced silence 
 outside, all but a sound of suppressed giggling, and 
 the Fisherman said as he came back : " My honored 
 guest, you nmst put up with this, and perhaps with 
 many another piece of mischief; but she means no 
 harm. It is our adopted child Undine ; there is no 
 breaking her of her childish ways, though she is 
 eighteen years old now. But as I told you she is as 
 good a child as ever lived, at bottom." 
 
 " Ay, so you may say ! " rejoined his wife, shaking 
 her head. " When you come home from fishing, or 
 from a journey, her playful nonsense may be pleas- 
 ant enough. But, to be keeping her out of mis- 
 chief all day long, as I must do, and never get a 
 
6 UNDINE. 
 
 word of sense from her, nor a bit of help and com 
 fort in my old age, is enough to weary the patience 
 of a saint." 
 
 "Well, well," said the good man, "you feel to- 
 ward Undine as I do toward the lake. Though 
 its waves are apt enough to burst my banks and my 
 nets, yet I love them for all that, and so do you love 
 our pretty wench, with all her plaguy tricks. Don't 
 you ? " 
 
 " Why, one cannot be really angry with her, to be 
 sure," said the dame smiling. ^ 
 
 Here the door flew open, and a beautiful fair creat- 
 ure tripped in, and said, playfully : " Well, father, 
 you made game of me ; where is your guest V The 
 next moment she perceived the Knight, and stood 
 fixed in mute admiration ; while Huldbrand gazed 
 upon her lovely form, and tried to impress her image 
 on his mind, thinking that he must avail himself of 
 her amazement to do so, and that in a moment she 
 would shrink away in a fit of bashfulness. But it 
 proved otherwise. After looking at him a good 
 while, she came up to him familiarly, knelt down 
 beside him, and playing with a golden medal that 
 hung from his rich chain, she said : " So, thou kind, 
 thou beautiful guest ! hast thou found us out in our 
 poor hut at last ? Why didst thou roam the world 
 so many years without coming near us ? Art come 
 through the wild forest, my handsome friend ? " 
 The old woman allowed him no time to answer. 
 She desired her to get up instantly, like a modest 
 
undine;. 7 
 
 girl, and to set about her work. But Undine, with- 
 out replying, fetched a footstool and put it close to 
 Huldbrand's chair, sat down there with her spinning, 
 and said cheerfully, — "I will sit and work here." 
 The old man behaved as parents are apt to do with 
 spoilt children. He pretended not to see Undine's 
 waywardness, and was beginning to talk of some- 
 thing else ; but she would not let him. She said, 
 " I asked -our visitor where he came from, and he 
 has not answered me yet." 
 
 " From the forest I came, you beautiful sprite," 
 answered Huldbrand ; and she continued : — 
 
 " Then you must tell me how you came there, and 
 what wonderful adventures you had in it, for I know 
 that nobody can escape without some." 
 
 Huldbrand could not help shuddering on be- 
 ing reminded of his adventures, and involuntarily 
 glanced at the window, half expecting to see one of 
 the strange beings he had encountered in the forest 
 grinning at him through it ; but nothing was to be 
 seen except the deep black night, which had now 
 closed in. He recollected himself, and was just be- 
 ginning his narrative, when the old man interposed : 
 " Not just now. Sir Knight ; this is no time for such 
 tales." 
 
 But Undine jumped up passionately, put her beau- 
 tiful arms akimbo, and standing before the Fisher- 
 man, exclaimed : " What ! may not he tell his story, 
 father — may not he? But I will have it ; he must! 
 He shall indeed ! " And she stamped angrily with 
 
8 UNDINE. 
 
 her pretty feet, but it was all done in so comical and 
 graceful a manner, that Huldbrand thought her still 
 more bewitching in her wrath, than in her playful 
 mood. 
 
 Not so the old man ; his long-restrained anger 
 burst out uncontrolled. He scolded Undine smartly 
 for her disobedience, and unmannerly conduct to 
 the stranger, his wife chiming in. 
 
 Undine then said : " Very well, if you will be 
 quarrelsome, and not let me have my own way, you 
 may sleep alone in your smoky old hut I " and she 
 shot through the door like an arrow, and rushedinto 
 the dark night. 
 
CHAPTER 11. 
 
 HOW UNDINE FIRST CAME TO THE FISHERMAN. 
 
 HuLDBRAND and the Fisherman sprang from 
 their seats, and tried to catch the angry maiden ; 
 but before they could reach the house door, Undine 
 had vanished far into the thick shades, and not a 
 sound of her light footsteps was to be heard, by 
 which to track her course. Huldbrand looked 
 doubtfully at his host ; he almost thought that the 
 whole fair vision which had so suddenly plunged 
 into the night, must be a continuation of the phan- 
 tom play which had whirled around him in his pas- 
 sage through the forest. But the old man mumbled 
 through his teeth : " It is not the first time she has 
 served us so. And here are we, left in our anxiety, 
 with a sleepless night before us ; for who can tell 
 what harm may befall her, all alone out-of-doors till 
 daybreak ? " 
 
 " Then let us be after her, good father, for God's 
 sake ! " cried Huldbrand, eagerly. 
 
 The old man replied, " Where would be the use ? 
 It were a sin to let you set off alone in pursuit of 
 the foolish girl, and my old legs would never over- 
 take such a Will-with-the-wisp — even if we could 
 guess which way she is gone.'* 
 
10 UNDINE. 
 
 " At least let us call her, and beg her to come 
 back," said Hiildbraiid ; and he began calling after 
 her in most moving tones : " Undine ! Undine ! 
 do return ! " 
 
 The old man shook his head, and said that all the 
 shouting in the world would do no good with such a 
 willful little thing. But yet he could not himself 
 help calling out from time to time in the darkness : 
 *' Undine ! ah, sweet Undine ! I entreat thee, come 
 back this once." 
 
 The Fisherman's words proved true. Nothing 
 was to be seen or heard of Undine ; and as her fos- 
 ter-father would by no means suffer Huldbrand to 
 pursue her, they had nothing for it but to go in 
 again. They found the fire on the hearth nearly 
 burnt out, and the dame, who did not take to heart 
 Undine's flight and danger so much as her husband, 
 5vas gone to bed. The old man blew the coals, laid 
 on dry wood, and by the light of the reviving flames 
 he found a flagon of wine, which he put between 
 himself and his guest. " You are uneasy about that 
 silly wench, Sir Knight," said he, " and we had bet- 
 ter kill part of the night chatting and drinking, than 
 toss about in our beds, trying to sleep in vain. Had 
 not we ? " 
 
 Huldbrand agreed ; the Fisherman made him sit 
 in his wife's empty arm-chair, and they both drank 
 and talked together, as a couple of worthy friends 
 should do. Whenever, indeed, there was the least 
 stir outside the window, or even sometimes without 
 
UNDINE. 11 
 
 any, one of them would look up and say, "There 
 she comes." Then they would keep silence for a few 
 moments, and as nothing came, resume their conver- 
 sation, with a shake of the head and a sigh. 
 
 But as neither could think of much besides Un- 
 dine, the best means they could devise for beguiling 
 the time was, that the Fisherman should relate, and 
 the Knight listen to, the history of her first coming 
 to the cottage. He began as follows : — 
 
 " One day, some fifteen years ago, I was carrying 
 my fish through that dreary wood to the town. My 
 wife stayed at home, as usual ; and at that time she 
 had a good and pretty reason for it ; — the Lord had 
 bestowed upon us (old as we already were) a lovely 
 babe. It was a girl ; and so anxious were we to do 
 our best for the little treasure, that we began to talk 
 of leaving our beautiful home, in order to give our 
 darling a good education among other human beings. 
 With us poor folks, wishing is one thing, and doing 
 is quite another. Sir Knight ; but what then ? we 
 can only try our best. Well then, as I plodded on, 
 I turned over the scheme in my head. I was loth 
 to leave our own dear nook, and it made me shudder 
 to think, in the din and brawls of the town, So it 
 is here we shall soon live, or in some place nearly as 
 bad ! Yet I never murmured against our good God, 
 but rather thanked Him in secret for His last bless- 
 ing ; nor can I say that I met with any thing extraor- 
 dinary in the forest, either coming or going ; indeed 
 nothing to frighten me has ever crossed my path. 
 The Lord was ever with me in the awful shades." 
 
12 UNDINE. 
 
 Here he uncovered his bald head, and sat for f 
 time in silent prayer ; then putting his cap on again, 
 he continued : " On this side of the wood it was, — 
 on this side, that the sad news met me. My wife 
 came toward me with eyes streaming like two 
 fountains ; she was in deep mourning. * Oh, good 
 H(»aven ! ' I called out, ' where is our dear child ? 
 Tell me?' 
 
 " ' Gone, dear husband,' she replied ; and we went 
 into our cottage together, weeping silently. I looked 
 for the little corpse, and then first heard how it had 
 happened. My wife had been sitting on the shore 
 with the child, and playing with it, all peace and 
 happiness ; when the babe all at once leaned over, as 
 if she saw something most beautiful in the water ; 
 there she sat smiling, sweet angel ! and stretching 
 out her little hands ; but the next moment she darted 
 suddenly out of her arms, and down into the smooth 
 waters. I made much search for the poor little 
 corpse ; but in vain ; not a trace of her could I 
 find. 
 
 " When evening was come, we childless parents 
 were sitting together in the hut, silent ; neither of us 
 had a mind to speak, even if the tears had let us. 
 We were looking idly into the fire. Just then some- 
 thing made a noise at the door. It opened, and a 
 beautiful little maid, of three or four years old, 
 stood there gayly dressed, and smiling in our faces. 
 We were struck dumb with surprise, and at first 
 hardly knew if she were a little human being, or 
 
UNDINE. 18 
 
 only an empty shadow. But I soon saw that her 
 golden hair and gay clothes were dripping wet, and it 
 struck me the little fairy must have been in the 
 water, and distressed for help. * Wife,' said I, * our 
 dear child had no friend to save her ; shall we not 
 do for others what would have made our remaining 
 days so happy, if any one had done it for us ? ' "We 
 undressed the child, put her to bed, and gave her a 
 warm drink, while she never said a word, but kept 
 smiling at us with her sky-bkie eyes. 
 
 " The next morning we found that she had done 
 herself no harm ; and I asked her who were her 
 parents, and what had brought her here ; but she 
 gave me a strange, confused answer. I am sure she 
 must have been born far away, for these fifteen years 
 have we kept her, without ever finding out where she 
 came from ; and besides, she is apt to let drop such 
 marvelous things in her talk, that you might think 
 she had lived in the moon. She will speak of golden 
 castles, of crystal roofs, and I can't tell what besides. 
 The only thing she has told us clearly, is, that as she 
 was sailing on the lake with her mother, she fell into 
 the water, and when she recovered her senses found 
 herself lying under these trees, in safety and comfort, 
 upon our pretty shore. 
 
 " So now we had a serious, anxious charge thrown 
 upon us. To keep and bring up the foundling, in- 
 stead of our poor drowned child, — that was soon 
 resolved upon ; but who should tell us if she had 
 yet been baptized or no ? She knew not how to an- 
 
14 UNDINE. 
 
 swer the question. That she was one of God's creat- 
 ures, made for His glory and service, that much she 
 knew ; and any thing that would glorify and please 
 Him, she was willing to have done. So my wife 
 and I said to each other : ' If she has never been 
 baptized, there is no doubt it should be done ; and 
 if she has, better do too much than too little, in a 
 matter of such consequence.' We therefore began 
 to seek a good name for the child. Dorothea seemed 
 to us the best; for I had onfee heard that meant 
 God's gift; and she had indeed been sent us by 
 Him as a special blessing, to comfort us in our 
 misery. But she would not hear of that name. She 
 said Undine was what her parents used to call her, 
 and Undine she would still be. That, I thought, 
 sounded like a heathen name, and occurred in no 
 Calendar ; and I took counsel with a priest in the 
 town about it. He also objected to the name Un- 
 dine ; and at my earnest request, came home with 
 me, through the dark forest, in order to baptize her. 
 The little creature stood before us, looking so gay 
 and charming in her holiday clothes, that the priest's 
 heart warmed toward her ; and what with coaxing 
 and willfulness, she got the better of him, so that he 
 clean forgot all the objections he had thought of to 
 the name Undine. She was therefore so christened, 
 and behaved particularly well and decently during 
 the sacred rite, wild and unruly as she had always 
 been before. For, what my wife said just now was 
 too true — we have indeed found her the wildest 
 little fairy ! If I were to tell you all " — 
 
UNDINE. 15 
 
 Here the Knight interrupted the Fisherman, to 
 call his attention to a sound of roaring waters, which 
 he had noticed already in the pauses of the old 
 man's speech, and which now rose in fury as it 
 rushed past the windows. They both ran to the 
 door. By the light of the newly risen moon, they 
 saw the brook which gushed out of the forest break- 
 ing wildly over its banks, and whirling along stones 
 and branches in its eddying course. A storm, as if 
 awakened by the uproar, burst from the heavy clouds 
 that were chasing each other across the moon ; the 
 lake howled under the wings of the wind ; the trees 
 on the shore groaned from top to bottom, and bowed 
 themselves over the rushing waters. " Undine ! for 
 God's sake, Undine ! " cried the Knight, and the old 
 man. No answer was to be heard; and, heedless 
 now of any danger to themselves, they ran off in 
 different directions, calling her in frantic anxiety. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 HOW THEY FOUND UNDINE AGAIN. 
 
 The longer Huldbrand wandered in vain pursuit 
 of Undine, the more bewildered he became. The 
 idea that she might be a mere spirit of the woods, 
 sometimes returned upon him with double " force ; 
 nay, amid the howling of waves and storm, thfe- 
 groaning of trees, and the wild commotion of the 
 once-peaceful spot, he might have fancied the whole 
 promontory, its hut and its inhabitants, to be a delu- 
 sion of magic, but that he still heard in the distance 
 the Fisherman's piteous cries of " Undine ! " and 
 the old housewife's loud prayers and hymns, above 
 the whistling of the blast. 
 
 At last he found himself on the margin of the 
 overflowing stream, and saw it by the moonlight 
 rushing violently along, close to the edge of the 
 mysterious forest, so as to make an island of the 
 peninsula on which he stood. " Gracious Heaven ! " 
 thought he, " Undine may have ventured a step or 
 two into that awful forest, — perhaps in her pretty 
 waywardness, just because T would not tell her my 
 story — and the swoln stream has cut her off, and 
 left her weeping alone among the spectres ! " A cry 
 
UNDINE. 17 
 
 of terror escaped him, and he clambered down the 
 bank by means of some stones and fallen trees, 
 hoping to wade or swim across the flood, and seek 
 the fugitive beyond it. Fearful and unearthly visions 
 did indeed float before him, like those he had met 
 with in the moniing, beneath these groaning, tossing 
 branches. Especially he was haunted by the ap- 
 pearance of a tall white man, whom he remembered 
 but too well, grinning and nodding at him from the 
 opposite bank ; however, the thought of these grim 
 monsters did but urge him onward as he recol- 
 lected '.Ijndine,* now perhaps in deadly fear among 
 them, and alone. 
 
 He had laid hold of a stout pine branch, and 
 leaning on it, was standing in the eddy, though 
 scarcely able to stem it, but he stepped boldly for- 
 ward — when a sweet voice exclaimed close behind 
 him: "Trust him not — trust not ! The old fellow 
 is tricksy — the stream ! " 
 
 Well he knew those silver tones : the moon was 
 just disappearing behind a cloud, and he stood amid 
 the deepening shades, made dizzy as the water shot 
 by him with the speed of an arrow. Yet he would 
 not desist. " And if thou art not truly there, if thou 
 flittest before me an empty shadow, I care not to 
 live; I will melt into air like thee, my beloved Un- 
 dine ! " This he cried aloud, and strode further 
 into the flood. 
 
 " Look round then, — look round, fair youth ! " 
 he heard just behind him, and looking round, he "be- 
 2 
 
18 UNDINE. 
 
 held by the returning moonbeams, on a fair island 
 left by the flood, under some thickly interlaced 
 branches. Undine all smiles and loveliness, nestling 
 in the flowery grass. How nmch more joyfully than 
 before did the young man use his pine staff to cross 
 the waters ! A few strides brought him through the 
 flood that had parted them ; and he found himself 
 at her side, on the nook of soft grass, securely 
 sheltered under the shade of the old trees. Undine 
 half arose, and twined her arms round his neck in 
 the green arbor, making him sit down by her on the 
 turf. " Here you shall tell me all, my own friend," 
 said she in a low whisper ; " the cross old folks can- 
 not overhear us. And our pretty bower of leaves 
 is well worth their wretched hut." 
 
 " This is heaven ! " cried Huldbrand, as he 
 clasped in his arms the beautiful flatterer. 
 
 Meantime the old man had reached the banks of 
 the stream, and he called out : " So, Sir Knight, 
 when I had made you welcome, as one honest man 
 should another, here are you making love to my 
 adopted child, — to say nothing of your leaving me 
 to seek her, alone and terrified, all night." 
 
 " I have but this moment found her, old man ! ** 
 cried the Knight in reply. 
 
 "Well, I am glad of that," said the Fisherman; 
 " now then bring her back to me at once." 
 
 But Undine would not hear of it. She had rather, 
 she said, go quite away into the wild woods with the 
 handsome stranger, than return to the hut, where 
 
UNDINE. 19 
 
 she had never had her own way, and which the 
 Knight must sooner or later leave. Embracing 
 Huldbrand, she sang with peculiar charm and 
 grace : — 
 
 " From misty cave the mountain wave 
 Leapt out and sought the main ! 
 The Ocean's foam she made her home, 
 And ne'er returned again." 
 
 The old man wept bitterly as she sang, but this did 
 not seem to move her. She continued to caress her 
 lover, till at length he said : " Undine, the poor old 
 man's grief goes to my heart, if not to yours. Let 
 us go back to him." 
 
 Astonished, she raised her large blue eyes to- 
 ward him, and after a pause answered slowly and 
 reluctantly : " To please you, I will : whatever you 
 like pleases me too. But the old man yonder must 
 first promise me that he will let you tell me all you 
 saw in the forest, and the rest we shall see about." 
 
 " Only come back, — do come ! " cried the Fisher- 
 man, and not another w^ord could he say. At the 
 same moment he stretched his arms over the stream 
 toward her, and nodded his head by way of giving 
 her the desired promise ; and as his white hair fell 
 over his face, it gave him a strange look, and re- 
 minded Huldbrand involuntarily of the nodding 
 white man in the woods. Determined, however, that 
 nothing should stop him, the young Knight took the 
 fair damsel in his arms, and carried her through the 
 short space of foaming flood, which divided the 
 
20 UNDINE. 
 
 island from the main-land. The old man fell upon 
 Undine's neck, and rejoiced, and kissed her in the 
 fullness of his heart ; his aged wife also came up, and 
 welcomed their recovered child most warmly. AV. 
 reproaches were forgotten ; the more so, as Undine 
 seemed to have left her sauciness behind, and over* 
 whelmed her foster parents with kind words and 
 caresses. 
 
 When these transports of joy had subsided, and 
 they began to look about them, the rosy dawn was 
 just shedding its glow over the lake, the storm had 
 ceased, and the birds were singing merrily on the 
 wet branches. As Undine insisted upon hearing the 
 story of the Knight's adventure, both the old folks 
 cheerfully indulged her. Breakfast was set out un- 
 der the trees between the cottage and the lake, and 
 they sat down before it with glad hearts, Undine 
 placing herself resolutely on the grass at the 
 Knight's feet. Huldbrand began his narrative as 
 follows. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 OF WHAT HAD BEFALLEN THE KNIGHT IN THE 
 FOREST. 
 
 " About eight days ago, I rode into the imperial 
 city beyond this forest. A grand tournament and 
 tilting was held there, and I spared neither lance 
 nor steed. As I stood still a moment to rest my- 
 self, in a pause of the noble game, and had just given 
 my helmet in charge to a squire, my eye fell upon a 
 most beautiful woman, who stood, richly adorned, in 
 one of the galleries, looking on. I inquired her 
 name, and found that this charming lady was Ber- 
 talda, the adopted daughter of one of the principal 
 lords in the neighborhood. I observed that her eye 
 was upon me too, and as is the way with us young 
 knights, I had not been slack before, but I now 
 fought more bravelj'' still. That evening I was Ber- 
 talda's partner in the dance, and so I was again 
 every evening during the jousting." 
 
 Here a sudden pain in his left hand, which hung 
 beside him, checked the Knight in his tale, and he 
 looked at his hand. Undine's pearly teeth had bit- 
 ten one of his fingers sharply, and she looked very 
 black at him. But the next moment that look 
 
22 UNDINE. 
 
 changed into an expression of tender sadness, and 
 she whispered low : " So you are faithless too ! " 
 Then she hid her face in her hands, and the Knight 
 proceeded with his tale, although staggered and per- 
 plexed. 
 
 " That Bertalda is a high-spirited, extraordinary 
 maid. On the second day she charmed me far less 
 than the first, and on the third, less still. But I re- 
 mained with her, because ^she was more gracious to 
 me than to any other knight, and so it fell out that 
 I asked her in jest for one of her gloves. ' You 
 shall have it,' said she, ' if you will visit the haunted 
 forest alone, and bring me an account of it.' It 
 was not that I cared much for her glove, but the 
 words had been spoken, and a knight that loves his 
 fame does not wait to be twice urged to such a feat.** 
 
 " I thought she had loved you," interrupted Un- 
 dine. 
 
 " It looked like it," he replied. 
 
 " Well," cried the maiden, laughing, " she must be 
 a fool indeed ! To drive him away whom she loves ! 
 and into a haunted forest besides ! The forest and 
 its mysteries might have waited long enough, for 
 me." 
 
 " I set out yesterday morning " continued the 
 Knight, smiling kindly at Undine. " The stems of 
 the trees looked so bright in the morning sunshine, 
 as it played upon the green turf, and the leaves 
 whispered together so pleasantly, that I could not 
 but laugh at those who imagined any evil to lurk in 
 
UNDINE. 28 
 
 such a beautiful place. I shall very soon have rid- 
 den through it and back again, thought I, pushing 
 on cheerily, and before I was aware of it, I found 
 myself in the depths of its leafy shades, and the 
 plains behind me far out of sight. It then occurred 
 to me that I was likely enough to lose my way in 
 this wilderness of trees, and that this might be the 
 only real danger to which the traveller was here ex- 
 posed. So I halted, and took notice of the course of 
 the sun ; it was now high in the heavens. 
 
 '' On looking up, I saw something black among 
 the boughs of a tall oak. I took it for a bear, and 
 seized my rifle ; but it addressed me in a human 
 voice, most hoarse and grating, saying : ' If I did 
 not break off the twigs up here, what should we do 
 to-night for fuel to roast you with. Sir Simpleton ? ' 
 And he gnashed his teeth, and rattled the boughs, 
 so as to startle my horse, which ran away with me 
 before I could make out what kind of a devil it 
 was." 
 
 "You should not mention his name," said the 
 Fisherman, .crossing himself; his wife silently did the 
 same, while Undine turned her beaming eyes upon 
 her lover, and said, — 
 
 "He is safe now; it is well they did not really 
 roast him. Go on, pretty youth." 
 
 He continued : " My terrified horse had almost 
 iashed me against many a trunk and branch ; he 
 was running down with fright and heat, and yet 
 there was no stopping him. At length he rushed 
 
24: UNDINE. 
 
 madly toward the brink of a stony precipice; but 
 here, as it seemed to me, a tall white man threw 
 himself across the plunging animal's path, and made 
 him start back, and stop. I then recovered the con- 
 trol of him, and found that, instead of a white man, 
 my preserver was no other than a bright silvery 
 brook, which gushed down from a hill beside me, 
 checking and crossing my horse in his course." 
 
 " Thanks, dear brook ! " cried Undine, clapping 
 her hands. But the old man shook his head, and 
 seemed lost in thought. 
 
 " Scarcely had I settled myself in the saddle, and 
 got firm hold of my reins again," proceeded Huld- 
 brand, " when an extraordinary little man sprang up 
 beside me, wizen and hideous beyond measure ; he 
 was of a yellow-brown hue, and his nose almost as 
 big as the whole of his body. He grinned at me 
 m the most fulsome way with his wide mouth, bow- 
 ing and scraping every moment. As I could not 
 abide these antics, I thanked him abruptly, pulled 
 my still-trembling horse another way, and thought I 
 would seek some other adventure, or perhaps go 
 home ; for during my wild gallop the sun had passed 
 his meridian, and was now declining westward. But 
 the little imp sprang round like lightning, and stood 
 in front of my horse again. 
 
 " ' Make way ! ' cried I impatiently, ' the animal is 
 unruly, and may run over you.' " 
 
 " ' Oh,' snarled the imp, with a laugh more disgust- 
 ing than before, ' first give me a piece of coin for 
 
UNDINE. 26 
 
 having caught your horse so nicely ; but for me, you 
 and your pretty beast would be lying in the pit down 
 yonder : whew ! ' 
 
 " ' Only have done with your grimaces,' said I, 
 ' and take your money along with you, though it is 
 all a lie : look there, it was that honest brook that 
 saved me, not you — you pitiful wretch ! ' So saying, 
 I dropped a gold coin into his comical cap, which he 
 held out toward me like a beggar. 
 
 " I trotted on, but he still followed, screaming, 
 and, with inconceivable rapidity, whisked up to my 
 side. I put my horse into a gallop ; he kept pace 
 with me, though with much difficulty, and twisted 
 his body into various frightful and ridiculous atti- 
 tudes, crying at each step as he held up the money : 
 
 * Bad coin ! bad gold ! bad gold ! bad coin ! ' And 
 this he shrieked in such a ghastly tone, that you 
 would have expected him to drop down dead after 
 each cry. 
 
 "At last I stopped, much vexed, and asked, 
 
 * What do you want, with your shrieks ? Take an- 
 other gold coin ; take two if you will, only let me 
 alone.' 
 
 " He began his odious smirking again, and 
 snarled, * It 's not gold, it 's not gold that I want, 
 young gentleman ; I have rather more of that than 
 t can use : you shall see.' 
 
 " All at once the surface of the ground became 
 transparent ; it looked like a smooth globe of green 
 glass, and within it I saw a crowd of goblins at play 
 
26 UNDINE. 
 
 with silver and gold. Tumbling about, head over 
 heels, they pelted each other in sport, making a toy 
 of the precious metals,^ and powdering their faces 
 with gold-dust. My ugly companion stood half 
 above, half below the surface ; he made the others 
 reach up to him quantities of gold, and showed it 
 me laughing, and then flung it into the fathomless 
 depths beneath. He displayed the piece of gold 1 
 had given him to the goblins below, who held their 
 sides with laughing, and hissed at me in scorn. At 
 length all their bony fingers pointed at me together ; 
 and louder and louder, closer and closer, wilder and 
 wilder grew the turmoil, as it rose toward me, till 
 not my horse only, but I myself was terrified ; I put 
 spurs into him, and cannot tell how long I may have 
 scoured the forest this time. 
 
 " When at last I halted, the shades of evening had 
 closed in. Through the branches I saw a white foot- 
 path gleaming, and hoped it must be a road out of 
 the forest to the town. I resolved to work my way 
 thither ; but lo ! an indistinct, dead-white face, with 
 ever-changing features, peeped at me through the 
 leaves ; I tried to avoid it, but wherever I went, 
 there it was. Provoked, I attempted to push my 
 horse against it ; then it splashed us both over with 
 white foam, and we turned away, blinded for the 
 moment. So it drove us, step by step, further and 
 further from the footpath, and indeed never letting 
 us go on undisturbed but in one direction. While 
 we kept to this, it was close upon our heels, but did 
 
T7NDINE. 27 
 
 not thwart us. Having looked round once or twice, 
 I observed that the white foaming head was placed 
 on a gigantic body, equally white. I sometimes 
 doubted my first impression, and thought it merely 
 a water-fall, but I never could satisfy myself that 
 it was so. Wearily did my horse and I precede 
 this active white pursuer, who often nodded at us, 
 as if saying, ' That 's right ! that 's right ! ' and it 
 ended by our issuing from the wood here, where I 
 rejoiced to see your lawn, the lake, and this cottage, 
 and where the long white man vanished." 
 
 " Thank Heaven, he is gone," said the old man, 
 and he then proceeded to consider how his guest 
 could best return to his friends in the city. Upon 
 this. Undine was heard to laugh in a whisper. 
 
 Huldbrand observed it, and said : " I thought 
 you had wished me to stay ; and now you seem 
 pleased when we talk of my going ? " 
 
 "Because," replied Undine, "you cannot get 
 away. Only try to cross the swollen brook, in a 
 boat, on horseback, or on foot. Or rather, do not 
 try, for you would be dashed to pieces by the 
 branches and stones that it hurls along. And as to 
 the lake, I know how that is : father never ventures 
 across it in his boat." 
 
 Huldbrand laughed, and got up to see whether 
 she had spoken true ; the old man went with him, 
 and the maiden tripped along playfully by their side. 
 They found she had told them no worse than the 
 truth, and the Knight resigned himself to staying in 
 
28 UNDINE. 
 
 the island, as it might now be called, till the floods 
 had subsided. As they returned homeward, he 
 whispered in his pretty companion's ear, — " Well, 
 my little Undine ! are you angry at my staying ? " 
 
 " Ah," said she sullenly, " never mind. If I had 
 no: bitten you, who knows what might have come 
 out in your story of Bertalda ? " 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 OF THE LIFE WHICH THE KNIGHT LED ON THE 
 ISLAND. 
 
 Has it ever befallen thee, gentle reader, after 
 many ups and downs in this troublesome world, to 
 alight upon a spot where thou foundest rest ; where 
 the love which is born with us for fireside comfort 
 and domestic peace, revived in thee; where thou 
 couldst fancy thy early home with the blossoms of 
 childhood, its pure, heartfelt affection, and the holy 
 influence breathed from thy fathers' graves, to be 
 restored to thee — and that it must indeed be " good 
 for thee to be here, and to build tabernacles ? " The 
 charm may have been broken, the dream dispelled ; 
 but that has nothing to do with our present picture ; 
 nor wilt thou care to dwell on such bitter moments ; 
 but recall to mind that period of unspeakable peace, 
 that foretaste of angelic rest which was granted thee, 
 and thou wilt partly conceive what the Knight Huld- 
 brand felt, while he lived on the promontory. Often, 
 with secret satisfaction, did he mark the forest 
 streams rolling by more wildly every day ; its bed 
 became wider and wider, and he felt the period of 
 his seclusion from the world must be still prolonged. 
 
30 UNDINE. 
 
 Having found an old cross-bow in a corner of the 
 cottage, and mended it, he spent part of his days 
 roving about, waylaying the birds that flew by, and 
 bringing whatever he killed to the kitchen, as rare 
 game. When he came back laden with spoil, Un- 
 dine would often scold him for taking the life of the 
 dear little joyous creatures, soaring in the blue 
 depths of Heaven ; she would even weep bitterly 
 over the dead birds. But if he came home empty- 
 handed, she found fault with his awkwardness and 
 laziness, which obliged them to be content with fish 
 and crabs for dinner. Either way, he took delight 
 in her pretty fits of anger ; the more so as she 
 rarely failed to make up for them by the fondest 
 caresses afterwards. The old folks, having been in 
 the young people's confidence from the first, uncon- 
 sciously looked upon them as a betrothed or even 
 married pair, shut out from the world with them in 
 this retreat, and bestowed upon them for comforts in 
 their old age. And this very seclusion helped to make 
 the young Knight feel as if he were already Un- 
 dine's bridegroom. It seemed to him that the whole 
 world was contained within the surrounding waters, 
 or at any rate, that he could never more cross that 
 charmed boundary, and rejoin other human beings 
 And if at times the neighing of his steed reminded 
 him of former feats of chivalry, and seemed to ask 
 for more ; if his coat of arms, embroidered on the 
 saddle and trappings, caught his eye ; or if his good 
 sword fell from the nail on which he had hung it, 
 
UNDINE. 31 
 
 and slipped out of its scabbard, he would silence the 
 misgivings that arose, by thinking, Undine is not a 
 fisherman's daughter, but most likely sprung from 
 some highly noble family in distant lands. The 
 only thing that ever ruffled him, was to hear the old 
 woman scolding Undine. The wayward girl only 
 laughed at her ; but to him it seemed as if his own 
 honor were touched ; and yet he could not blame 
 the good wife, for Undine mostly deserved ten times 
 worse than she got, therefore he still felt kindly 
 toward the old dame, and these little rubs scarcely 
 disturbed the even current of their lives. 
 
 At length, however, a grievance did arise. The 
 Knight and the Fisherman were in the habit of sit- 
 ting cheerfully over a flask of wine, both at noon, 
 and also at eventide while the wind whistled around, 
 as it generally did at night. But they had now ex- 
 hausted the whole stock which the Fisherman had, 
 long since, brought from the town with him, and 
 they both missed it sadly. Undine laughed at them 
 all day for it, but they could not join in her mirth 
 as heartily as usual. Toward evening she left the 
 cottage, saying she could no longer bear such long, 
 dismal faces. As the twilight looked stormy, and 
 the waters were beginning to moan and heave, the 
 Knight and the old man ran out anxiously to fetch 
 her back, remembering the agony of that night when 
 Huldbrand first came to the cottage. But they 
 were met by Undine, clapping her hands merrily. 
 '* What will you give me if I get you some wine ? 
 
32 UNDINE. 
 
 But, indeed, I want no reward for it," she added; 
 " I shall be satisfied if you will but look brighter, 
 and find more to say than you have done all these 
 tedious mornings. Come along ; the floods have 
 washed a barrel ashore, and I will engage to sleep a 
 whole week through if it is not a barrel of wine ! " 
 
 The men both followed her to a shady creek, and 
 there found a barrel, which did look as if it con- 
 tained the generous liquor which they longed for. 
 They rolled it toward the hut as fast as they could, 
 for a heavy storm seemed stalking across the sky, 
 and there was lis^ht enough left to show them the 
 waves of the lake tossing up their foaming heads, as 
 if looking out for the rain which would soon pour 
 down upon them. Undine lent a hand in the work, 
 and presently, when the shower threatened to break 
 instantly over their heads, she spoke to the big 
 clouds in playful defiance : " You, you there ! mind 
 you do not give us a drenching ; we are some way 
 from home yet." The old man admonished her that 
 this was sinful presumption, but she laughed slyly to 
 herself, and no harm came of it. Beyond their 
 hopes, they all three reached the comfortable fireside 
 with their prize, unhurt ; and it was not till they had 
 opened the barrel, and found it to contain excellent 
 wine, that the rain broke from the heavy clouds in 
 torrents, and they heard the storm roaring among 
 the trees, and over the lake's heaving billows. 
 
 A few bottles were soon filled from the great 
 barrel, enough to last them several days ; and they 
 
UNDINE. S3 
 
 sat sipping and chatting over the bright fire, secure 
 from the raging tempest. But the old man's heart 
 presently smote him. " Dear me," said he, " here are 
 we making merry over the blessing of Providence, 
 while the owner of it has perhaps been carried away 
 by the flood, and lost his life ! " — " No, that he has 
 not," said Undine, smiling; and she filled the 
 Knight's glass again. He replied, " I give you my 
 word, good father, that if I knew how to find and 
 save him, no danger should deter me ; I would not 
 shrink from setting out in this darkness. This much 
 I promise you, if ever I set foot in an inhabited 
 country again, I will make inquiry after him or his 
 heirs, and restore to them twice or three times the 
 value of the wine." This pleased the pld man ; he 
 gave an approving nod to the Knight, and drained 
 his glass with a better conscience and a lighter heart. 
 But Undine said to Huldbrand, " Do as you like 
 with your money, you may make what compensation 
 you please ; but as to settioig out and wandering after 
 him, that was hastily said. I should cry my heart 
 out if we chanced to lose you ; and had not you 
 rather stay with me and with the good wine ? " 
 " Why, yes ! " said Huldbrand, laughing. " Well 
 then," rejoined Undine, " it was a foolish thing you 
 talked of doing ; charity begins at home, you know." 
 The old woman turned away, shaking her head and 
 sighing ; her husband forgot his usual indulgence for 
 the pretty lassie, and reproved her sharply. " One 
 would think," said he, " you had been reared by 
 
34 UNDINE. 
 
 Turks and heathens ; God forgive you and us, you 
 perverse child." — " Ay but it is my way of thinking " 
 pursued Undine, " whoever has reared me, so what 
 is the use of your talking ? " — " Peace ! " cried the 
 Fisherman ; and she, who with all her wildness was 
 sometimes cowed in a moment, clung trembling to 
 Huldbrand, and whispered, " And are you angry 
 with me, dear friend?" The Knight pressed her 
 soft hand, and stroked down her ringlets. Not a 
 word could he say ; his distress at the old man's 
 harshness toward Undine had sealed his lips ; and so 
 each couple remained sitting opposite the other, in 
 moody silence and constraint. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 OF A BRIDAL. 
 
 A GENTLE tap at the door broke the silence, and 
 made them all start: it sometimes happens that a 
 mere trifle, coming quite unexpectedly, strikes the 
 senses with terror. They looked at each other, 
 hesitating ; the tap was repeated, accompanied by a 
 deep groan ; and the Knight grasped his sword. 
 But the old man muttered, " If it is what I fear, it is 
 not a sword that will help us ! " Undine, however, 
 stepped forward to the door, and said boldly and 
 sharply, " If you are after any mischief, you spirits 
 of earth, Kiihleborn shall teach you manners." 
 
 The terror of the others increased at these strange 
 words ; they looked at the maiden with awe, and 
 Huldbrand was just mustering courage to ask her a 
 question, when a voice answered her from without ; 
 " I am no spirit of earth ; call me, if you will, a 
 spirit pent in mortal clay. If you fear God, and 
 will be charitable, you dwellers in the cottage, open 
 the door to me." Undine opened it before he had 
 done speaking, and held out a lamp into the stormy 
 night, so as to show them the figure of an aged 
 Priest, who started back as the radiant beauty of 
 
36 UNDINE. 
 
 Undine flashed upon his sight. Well might he sus- 
 pect magic and witchery, when so bright a vision 
 shone out of a mean-looking cottage ; he accordingly 
 began a canticle, " All good spirits give praise to the 
 Lord!" 
 
 " I am no ghost," said Undine, smiling ; " am I so 
 frightful to behold ? And you may see that a pious 
 saying has no terrors for me. I worship God, too, 
 and praise Him after my own fashion ; He has not 
 created us all alike. Come in, venerable father ; you 
 will find worthy folks here." 
 
 The holy man walked in, bowing and casting his 
 eyes around, and looking most mild and venerable. 
 Every fold of his dark garment was dripping with 
 water, and so were his long white beard and hoary 
 locks. The Fisherman and the Knight led him to 
 a bedroom, and gave him change of clothing, while 
 the women dried his wet garments by the hearth 
 fire. The aged strano^er thanked them with all hu- 
 mility and gentleness, but would by no means accept 
 of the Knight's splendid mantle, which he offered 
 him : he chose himself an old gray wrapper of the 
 Fisherman's instead. So they returned to the 
 kitchen; the dame gave up her own arm-chair to 
 the Priest, and had no peace till he sat himself down 
 in it : " For," said she, '• you are old and weary, and 
 a priest besides." Undine pushed her little foot- 
 stool, on which she generally sat by Huldbrand 
 toward the good man's feet, and altogether behaved 
 to him quite properly and gracefully. Huldbrand 
 
UNDINE. 87 
 
 took notice of this, in a playful whisper ; but she an 
 swered very gravely : " Because he is a servant of 
 the Maker of us all ; that is too serious for a jest." 
 
 Meantime the two men set meat and wine before 
 their guest, and when he had recruited his strength 
 a little, he began his story ; saying that the day be- 
 fore he had left his monastery, which was a good 
 way off beyond the lake, intending to visit the bishop 
 at his palace, and report to him the distress which 
 these almost supernatural floods had caused the 
 monks and their poor tenantry. After going round 
 a long way, to avoid these very floods, he had been 
 obliged toward evening to cross an arm of the over- 
 flowing lake, with the help of two honest sailors. 
 " But," added he, " no sooner had our little vessel 
 touched the .waves, than we were wrapped in the 
 tremendous storm, which is still raging over our 
 heads now. It looked as if the waters had only 
 awaited our coming to give a loose to their fury. 
 The oars were soon dashed from the seamen's hands, 
 and we saw their broken fragments carried further 
 and further from us by the waves. We floated on 
 the wave tops, helpless, driven by the furious tem- 
 pest toward your shores, which we saw in the dis- 
 tance whenever the clouds parted for a moment. 
 The boat was tossed about still more wildly and gid- 
 dily ; and whether it upset, or I fell out, I cannot 
 tell. I floated on, with the dark prospect of instant 
 death before me, till a wave landed me at the foot of 
 a tree, in this your island." 
 
38 UNDINE. 
 
 " Ay, island indeed ! " said the Fisherman. « It 
 was a promontory but a short time ago. But, since 
 the stream and our lake are gone raving^ mad to 
 gether, every thing about us is new and strange." 
 
 The Priest continued : "As I crept along the 
 water-side in the dark, with a wild uproar around me, 
 something caught my eye, and presently I descried 
 a beaten pathway, which was soon lost in the shades ; 
 I spied the light in your cottage, and ventured to 
 come hither ; and I cannot sufficiently thank my 
 heavenly Father, who has not only delivered me 
 from the waters, but guided me to such kind souls. 
 I feel this blessing the more, as it is very likely I 
 may never see any faces but yours again." — ".How 
 so ? " asked the Fisherman. " Can you guess how 
 long this fury of the elements may last ? " replied 
 the Priest. " And I am an old man. My stream 
 of life may perhaps lose itself in the earth, before 
 these floods subside. And besides, it may be the 
 foaming waters will divide you from the forest more 
 and more, till you are unable to gjet across in your 
 fishing boat ; and the people of the main-land, full of 
 their own concerns, would quite forget you in your 
 retreat." 
 
 Shuddering, and crossing herself, the Fisherman's 
 wife exclaimed, " God forbid ! " But the old man 
 smiled at her, and said, " What creatures we are ! 
 That would make no difference, to you at least, my 
 dear wife. How many years is it since you have 
 set foot within the forest ? And Have you seen any 
 
UNDINE. 39 
 
 face but Undine's and mine ? Lately, indeed, we 
 have had the good Knight and Priest besides. Bui 
 they would stay with us ; so that if we are forgotten 
 in this island, you will be the gainer." 
 
 " So I see," said the dame ; " yet somehow, it is 
 cheerless to feel ourselves quite cut off from the rest 
 of the world, however seldom we had seen it before." 
 
 " Then you will stay with us ! " murmured Undine 
 m a sweet voice, and she pressed closer to Huld- 
 brand's side. But he was lost in deep thought. 
 Since the Priest had last spoken, the land beyond 
 the wild stream had seemed to his fancy more dark 
 and distant than ever ; while the flowery island he 
 lived in — and his bride, the fairest flower in the 
 picture — bloomed and smiled more and more 
 freshly in his imagination. Here was the Priest at 
 hand to unite them ; — and, to complete his resolu- 
 tion, the old dame just then darted a reproving look 
 at Undine, for clinging to her lover's side in the holy 
 man's presence ; an angry lecture seemed on the 
 point of beginning. He turned toward the Priest, 
 and these words burst from him : " You see before 
 you a betrothed pair, reverend sir ; if this damsel 
 and the kind old people will consent, you shall unite 
 us this very evening." 
 
 The old folks were much surprised. Such a 
 thought had often crossed their minds, but they had 
 never till this moment heard it uttered ; and it now 
 fell upon their ears like an unexpected thing. Un- 
 dine had suddenly become quite grave, and sat nnis- 
 
40 UNDINE. 
 
 ing deeply, while the Priest inquired into various 
 circumstances, and asked the old couple's consent to 
 the deed. After some deliberation, they gave it; 
 the dame went away to prepare the young people's 
 bridal chamber, and to fetch from her stores two 
 consecrated tapers for the wedding ceremony. 
 Meanwhile the Knight was pulling two rings off his 
 gold chain for himself and "his bride to exchange. 
 But this roused Undine from her reverie, and she 
 said : " Stay ! my parents did not send me into the 
 world quite penniless ; they looked forward long ago 
 to this occasion, and provided for it." She quickly 
 withdrew, and returned bringing two costly rings, 
 one of which she gave to her betrothed and kept the 
 other herself. This astonished the old Fisherman, 
 and still more his wife, who came in soon after ; for 
 they neither of them had ever seen these jewels 
 about the child. " My parents," said Undine, " had 
 these rings sewed into the gay dress which I wore, 
 when first I came to you. They charged me to let 
 no one know of them till my wedding-day came. 
 Therefore I took them secretly out of the dress, and 
 have kept them hidden till this evening." 
 
 Here the Priest put a stop to the conversation, by 
 lighting the holy tapers, placing them on the table, 
 and calling the young pair to him. With few and 
 solemn words he joined their hands ; the aged couple 
 gave their blessing, while the bride leaned upon het 
 {lusband, pensive and trembling. 
 
 When it was over, the Priest said: "You are 
 
UNDINE. 41 
 
 strange people after all! What did you mean by 
 saying you were the only inhabitants of this island ? 
 During the whole ceremony there was a fine-looking 
 tall man, in a white cloak, standing just outside the 
 window opposite me. He must be near the door 
 still, if you like to invite him in." — " Heaven for- 
 bid ! " said the dame, shuddering ; the old man 
 shook his head without speaking ; and Huldbrand 
 rushed to the window. He could fancy he saw a 
 streak of white, but it was soon lost in darkness. 
 So he assured the Priest he must have been mis- 
 taken ; and they all sat down comfortably round the 
 fire. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 HOW THE REST OF THE EVENING PASSED AWAY. 
 
 Undine had been perfectly quiet and well-be- 
 haved both before and during the marriage cere- 
 mony ; but now her wild spirits seemed the more un- 
 controllable from the restraint they had undergone, 
 and rose to an extravagant height. She played all 
 manner of childish tricks on her husband, her foster 
 parents, and even the venerable Priest, and when the 
 old woman began to check her, one or two words 
 from Huldbrand, who gravely called Undine " his 
 wife," reduced her to silence. The Knight himself, 
 however, was far from being pleased at Undine's 
 childishness ; but no hint or sign would stop her. 
 Whenever she perceived his disapproving looks — 
 which she occasionally did — it subdued her for the 
 moment ; she would sit down by him, whisper some- 
 thing playfully in his ear, and so dispel the frown 
 as it gathered on his brow. But the next instant 
 some wild nonsense would dart into her head, and 
 set her off worse than ever. At last the Priest said 
 to her, in a kind but grave manner, " My dear young 
 lady, no one that beholds you can be severe upon 
 you, it is true ; but remember, it is your duty to 
 
UNDINE. 48 
 
 keep watch over your soul, that it may be ever in 
 harmony with that of your wedded husband/ 
 " Soul ! " cried Undine, laughing ; •' that sounds very 
 fine, and for most people may be very edifying and 
 moral advice. But if one has no soul at all, pray 
 how is one to keep watch over it ? And that is my 
 case." The Priest was deeply hurt, and turned away 
 his face in mingled sorrow and anger. But she 
 came up to him beseechingly, and said, " Nay, hear 
 me before you are angry, for it grieves me to see you 
 displeased, and you would not distress any creature 
 who has done you no harm. Only have patience 
 with me, and I will tell you all, from the beginning." 
 They saw she was preparing to give them a regu- 
 lar history,; but she stopped short, appearing thrilled 
 by some secret recollection, and burst into a flood 
 of gentle tears. They were quite at a loss what to 
 think of her, and gazed upon her, distressed from 
 various causes. At length drying her eyes, she 
 looked at the Priest earnestly and said, " There must 
 be much to love in a soul, but much that is awful 
 too. For God's sake, holy father, tell me — were it 
 not better to be still without one?" She waited 
 breathlessly for an answer, restraining her tears. 
 Her hearers had all risen from their seats, and now 
 stepped back from her, shuddering. She seemed to 
 have no eyes but for the saintly man ; her counte- 
 nance assumed an expression of anxiety and awe 
 which yet more alarmed the others. " Heavy must 
 be the burden of a soul," added she, as no one an- 
 
44 UNDINE. 
 
 swered her, — " heavy indeed ! for the mere ap- 
 proach of mine overshadows me with anxious mel- 
 ancholy. And ah ! how light-hearted, how joyous 
 I used to be ! " A fresh burst of weeping overcame 
 her, and she covered her face with her veil. 
 
 The Priest then approached her with much grav- 
 ity, and adjured her by the holiest names to confess 
 the truth, if any evil lurked in her, unknown to 
 them. But she fell on her knees before him, re- 
 peated after him all his words of piety, gave praise 
 to God, and declared she was in charity with all the 
 world. The Priest turned to the young Knight. 
 " Sir bridegroom," said he, " I leave you alone with 
 her whom I have made your wife. As far as I can 
 discover, there is no evil, although much that is mys- 
 terious, in her. I exhort you to be sober, loving, and 
 faithful." So he went out ; and the old people fol- 
 lowed, crossing themselves. 
 
 Undine was still on her knees ; she uncovered 
 her face and looked timidly at Huldbrand, saying, 
 " Ah, thou wilt surely cast me off now ; and yet I 
 have done nothing wrong, poor, poor child that I 
 am ! " This she said witli so touching and gentle au 
 expression, that her husband forgot all the gloom 
 and mystery that had chilled his heart ; he hastened 
 toward her, and raised her in his arms. She smiled 
 through her tears — it was like the glow of dawn 
 shining upon a clear fountain. " Thou canst not for- 
 sake me ! " whispered she, in accents of the firmest 
 reliance ; and she stroked his cheeks with her soft 
 
UNDINE. 45 
 
 little hands. He tried to shake off the gloomy 
 thoughts which still lurked in a corner of his mind, 
 suggesting to him that he had married a fairy, or 
 some shadowy being from the world of spirits : one 
 question, however, he could not help asking : " My 
 dear little Undine, just tell me one thing: what was 
 that you said about spirits of earth, and Kiihleborn, 
 when the Priest knocked at the door ? " — All non- 
 sense I " said Undine, laughing, with her usual gayety. 
 " First I frightened you with it, and then you fright- 
 ened me. And that is the end of the story, and of 
 our wedding-day ! " — " No, it is not over," said her 
 now delighted lover ; he extinguished the tapers, 
 and by the light of the moon, which beamed brightly 
 through the casement, he carried his beautiful wife 
 into the bridal chamber. 
 
1 
 
 1 
 
 w^^^^^i^i^^^ 
 
 ^M 
 
 
 
 ^^S 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE DAY AFTER THE MARRIAGE. 
 
 A BRIGHT morning light wakened the young peo- 
 ple ; and Huldbrand lay musing silently. As often 
 as he had dropped asleep, he had been scared by 
 horrible dreams of spectres, who suddenly took the 
 form of fair women, or of f lir women who were trans- 
 formed into dragons. And when he started up from 
 these grim visions, and saw the pale, cold moonlight- 
 streaming in at the window, he would turn an anx- 
 ious look toward Undine ; she lay slumbering in un- 
 disturbed beauty and peace. Then he would com- 
 pose himself to sleep again — soon again to wake in 
 terror. When he looked back upon all this in broad 
 daylight, he was angry with himself for having let a 
 suspicion, a shade of distrust of his beautiful wife, 
 enter his mind. He frankly confessed to her this 
 injustice ; she answered him only by pressing his 
 hand, and sighing from the bottom of her heart. 
 But a look, such as her eyes had never before given, 
 of the deepest and most confiding tenderness, left 
 him no doubt that she forgave him. So he arose 
 cheerfully, and joined the family in the sitting-room. 
 The three others were gathered round the hearth, 
 
looking uneasy, and neither of them having ventured 
 to speak his thoughts yet. The Priest seemed to 
 be secretly praying for deliverance from evil. But 
 when the young husband appeared, beaming with 
 happiness, the care-worn faces brightened up ; nay, 
 the Fisherman ventured upon a few courteous jokes 
 with the Knight, which won a smile even from the 
 good housewife. Meanwhile Undine had dressed 
 herself, and now came in ; they could not help rising 
 to meet her, and stood still, astonished ; the young 
 creature was the same, yet so different. The Priest 
 was the first to address her, with an air of paternal 
 kindness, and when he raised his hands in benedic- 
 tion, the fair woman sank on her knees, trembling 
 with pious awe. In a few meek and humble words, 
 she begged him to forgive the folly of the day before, 
 and besought him, with great emotion, to pray for the 
 salvation of her soul. Then rising, she kissed her 
 foster parents, and thanking them for all their kind- 
 ness, she said : " Oh, now I feel from the bottom of 
 my heart how much you have done for me, how 
 deeply grateful I ought to be, dear, dear people ! " 
 She seemed as if she could not caress them enough ; 
 but soon, observing the dame glance toward the 
 breakfast, she went toward the hearth, busied herself 
 arranging and preparing the meal, and would not suf- 
 fer the good woman to take the least trouble herself. 
 So she went on all day ; at once a young matron, 
 and a bashful, tender, delicate bride. The three 
 who knew her best were every moment expecting 
 
48 UNDINE. 
 
 this mood to change, and give place to one of her 
 crazy fits; but they watched her in vain. There 
 was still the same angelic mildness and sweetness. 
 The Priest could not keep his eyes away from her ; 
 and he said more than once to the bridegroom, " Sir, 
 it was a great treasure which Heaven bestowed upon 
 you yesterday, by my poor ministration ; cherish her 
 worthily, and she will be to you a blessing in time 
 and eternity." 
 
 Toward evening, Undine clasped the Knight's 
 arm with modest tenderness, and gently led him out 
 before the door, where the rays of the setting sun 
 were lighting up the fresh grass, and the tall, taper 
 stems of trees. The young wife's face wore a melt- 
 ing expression of love and sadness, and her lips 
 quivered with some anxious, momentous secret, 
 which as yet betrayed itself only by scarce audible 
 sighs. She silently led her companion onward ; if 
 he spoke, she replied by a look* which gave him no 
 direct answer, but revealed a whole heaven of love 
 and timid submission. So they reached the banks 
 of the stream which had overflowed, and the Knight 
 started on finding the wild torrent changed into a 
 gentle rippling brook, without a trace of its former 
 violence left. " By to-morrow it will have dried up 
 completely," said the bride, in a faltering voice, 
 " and thou mayest begone whither thou wilt." — 
 " Not without thee, my Undine," said the Knight, 
 playfully ; " consider, if I had a mind to forsake 
 thee, the Chin-ch, the Emperor, and his ministers 
 
UNDINE. 49 
 
 might step in, and bring thy truant home." — " No, 
 no, you are free ; it shall be as you please ! " mur- 
 mured Undine, half tears, half smiles. " But I 
 think thou wilt not cast me away ; is not my heart 
 bound up in thine ? Carry me over to that little 
 island opposite. There I will know my fate. I 
 could indeed easily step through the little waves ; 
 but I love to rest in thine arms ! and thou mayest 
 cast me off; this may be the last time." Huldbrand, 
 full of anxious emotion, knew not how to answer. 
 He took her up in his arms, and carried her over, 
 now recollecting that from this very island he had 
 borne her home to the Fisherman, on the night of 
 his arrival. When there, he placed his fair burden 
 on the turf, and was going to sit down by her ; but 
 she said, "No, sit there, opposite me — Iwill read 
 my doom in your eyes, before j'^our lips have spoken 
 it. Now listen, and I will tell you all." And she 
 began : — 
 
 "You must know, my own love, that in each ele- 
 ment exists a race of beings, whose form scarcely 
 differs from yours, but who very seldom appear to 
 mortal sight. In the flames, the wondrous Sala- 
 manders glitter and disport themselves ; in the 
 depths of earth dwell the dry, spiteful race of 
 Gnomes; the forests are peopled by Wood-nymphs, 
 who are also spirits of air ; and the seas, the rivers, 
 and brooks contain the numberless tribes of Water- 
 sprites. Their echoing halls of crystal, where the 
 light of heaven 2)ours in, with its sun and stars, are 
 4, 
 
50 UNDINE. 
 
 glorious to dwell in ; the gardens contain beaitiful 
 coral plants, with blue and red fruits ; they wander 
 over bright sea-sands, and gay-colored shells, among 
 the hidden treasures of the old world, too precious 
 to be bestowed on these latter days, and long since 
 covered by the silver mantle of the deep : many a 
 noble monument still gleams there below, bedewed 
 by the tears of Ocean, who garlands it with flowery 
 sea- weeds and wreaths of shells. Those that dwell 
 there below, are noble and lovely to behold, ftir more 
 so than mankind. Many a fisherman has had a 
 passing glimpse of some fair water-nymph, rising 
 out of the sea with her song ; he would then spread 
 the report of her apparition, and these wonderful 
 beings came to be called Undines. And you now 
 see before you, my love, an Undine." 
 
 The Knight tried to persuade himself that his fair 
 wife was in one of her wild moods, and had invented 
 this strange tale in sport. But though he said this 
 to himself, he could not for a moment believe it ; a 
 mysterious feeling thrilled him ; and, unable to utter 
 a word, he kept his eyes riveted on the beautiful 
 speaker. She shook her head sadly, heaved a deep 
 sigh, and went on : — 
 
 " We might be happier than our human fellow- 
 creatures, (for we call you fellow-creatures, as our 
 forms are alike,) but for one great evil. We, and 
 the other children of the elements, go down to the 
 dust, body and spirit ; not a trace of us remains ; 
 and when the time comes for you to rise again to a 
 
UNDINE. 51 
 
 glorified existence, we shall have perished with our 
 native sands, flames, winds, and waves. For we 
 have no souls ; the elements move us, obey us while 
 we live, close over us when we die ; and we light 
 spirits live as free from care as the nightingale, tlie 
 gold-fish, and all such bright children of Nature. 
 But no creatures rest content in their appointed 
 place. My father, who is a mighty prince in the 
 Mediterranean Sea, determined that his only child 
 should be endowed with a soul, even at the cost of 
 much suffering, which is ever the lot of souls. But 
 a soul can be infused into one of our race, only by 
 being united in the closest bands of love to one of 
 yours. And now I have obtained a soul ; to thee I 
 owe it, O best beloved! and for that gift I shall 
 ever bless thee, unless thou dost devote my whole 
 futurity to misery. For what is to become of me 
 should thou recoil from me, and cast me off? Yet 
 I would not detain thee by deceit. And if I am to 
 leave thee, say so now ; go back to the land alone. 
 I will plunge into this brook ; it is my uncle, who 
 leads a wonderful, sequestered life in this forest, 
 away from all his friends. But he is powerful, and 
 allied to many great rivers ; and as he brought me 
 here to the Fisherman, a gay and laughing child, so 
 he is ready to take me back to my parents, a loving, 
 suffering, forsaken w^oman." 
 
 She would have gone on ; but Huldbrand, full of 
 compassion and love, caught her in his arms, and 
 carried her back. There, with tears and kisses, he 
 
52 UNDINE. 
 
 swore never to forsake his beloved wife ; and said he 
 felt more blessed than the Greek statuary Pygma- 
 lion, whose beautiful statue dame Venus transformed 
 into a living woman. Hanging on his arm in peace- 
 ful reliance. Undine returned ; and she felt from her 
 inmost heart, how little cause she had to regret the 
 crystal palaces of her father. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 HOW THE KNIGHT AND HIS YOUNG BRIDE DE- 
 PARTED. 
 
 When Huldbrand .awoke from sleep the next 
 morning, he missed his fair companion ; and again 
 he was tormented with a doubt, whether his mar- 
 riage, and the lovely Undine, might not be all a fairy 
 dream. But she soon reappeared, came up to him, 
 and said, " I have been out early, to see if my uncle 
 had kept his word. He has recalled all the straying 
 waters into his quiet bed, and now takes his lonely 
 and pensive course through the forest as he used to 
 do. His friends in the lake and the air are gone to 
 rest also ; all things have returned to their usual 
 calmness ; and you may set out homeward on dry 
 land, as soon as you please." Huldbrand felt as if 
 dreaming still, so little could he understand his 
 wife's wonderful relations. But he took no notice 
 of this, and his sweet Undine's gentle attentions soon 
 charmed every uneasy thought away. 
 
 A little while after, as they stood at the door to- 
 gether, looking over, the fair scene with its bound- 
 ary of clear waters, his heart yearned so toward 
 this cradle of his love that he said, — " But why 
 
54 * UNDINE. 
 
 should we go away so soon ? we shall never spend 
 happier days in yonder world, than we have passed 
 in this peaceful nook. Let us at least see two or 
 three more suns go down here." — " As my Lord 
 wishes," answered Undine, with cheerful submission ; 
 "but, you see, the old people will be grieved at part- 
 ing with me, whenever it is ; and if we give them 
 time to become acquainted with my soul, and with 
 its new powers of loving and honoring them, I fear 
 that when I go, their aged hearts will break under 
 the load of sorrow. As yet, they take my gentle 
 mood for a passing whim, such as they saw me liable 
 to formerly, like a calm on the lake when the winds 
 are lulled ; and they will soon begin to love some 
 favorite tree or flower in my place. They must 
 not learn to know this newly obtained, affectionate 
 heart, in the first overflowings of its tenderness, just 
 at the moment when they are to lose me for this 
 world ; and how could I disguise it from them, if we 
 remained together longer ? " 
 
 Huldbrand agreed with her; he went to the old 
 couple, and finding them ready to consent, he re- 
 solved upon setting out that very hour. The Priest 
 offered to accompany them ; after a hasty farewell, 
 the pretty bride was placed on the horse by her 
 husband, and they crossed the stream's dry bed 
 quickly, and entered the forest. Undine shed silent 
 but bitter tears, while the old folks wailed after her 
 aloud. It seemed as if some foreboding were cross- 
 ing their minds, of how great their loss would prove 
 
^mg, \ 
 
UNDINE. 55 
 
 The three travellers reached the deepest shades 
 of the forest, without breaking silence. It was a 
 fair sight to behold, as they passed through the leafy- 
 bowers : the graceful woman sitting on her noble 
 steed, guarded on one side by the venerable Priest 
 in the white habit of his order ; on the other, by the 
 youthful Knight, with his gorgeous attire and glitter- 
 ing sword. Huld brand had no eyes but for his 
 precious wife ; Undine, who had dried her duteous 
 tears, no thought but for him ; and they soon fell 
 into a noiseless interchange of glances and signs, 
 which at length was interrupted by the sound of a 
 low murmur, proceeding from the Priest and a 
 fourth fellow-traveller, who had joined them unob- 
 served. He wore a white robe, very like the Priest's 
 dress, except that the hood almost covered his face, 
 and the rest of it floated round him in such large 
 folds that he was perpetually obliged to gather it 
 up, throw it over his arm, or otherwise arrange it ; 
 yet it did not seem to impede him at all in walking ; 
 when the young people saw him he was saying, 
 " And so, my worthy father, I have dwelt in the for- 
 est for many a year, yet I am not what you commonly 
 call a hermit. For, as I told you, I know nothing 
 of penance, nor do I think it would do me much 
 good. What makes me so fond of the woods is, that 
 I have a very particular fancy for winding through 
 the dark shades and forest walks, with my loose 
 white clothes floating about me ; now and then a 
 pretty sunbeam will glance over me as I go." — " You 
 
66 UNDINE. 
 
 seem to be a very curious person," replied the Priest, 
 " and I should like to know more about you." — 
 "And pray who are you, to carry on the acquaint- 
 ance ? " said the stranger. " They call me Father 
 Heilmann," answered the 'Priest, " and I belong to 
 St. Mary's monastery, beyond the lake." — " Ay, 
 ay ! " rejoined the other. " My name is Kuhleborn, 
 and if I stood upon ceremony, I might well call my- 
 self Lord of Kuhleborn, or Baron (Freiherr) Kiihle- 
 boru ; for free I an], as the bird of the air, or a trifle 
 more free. For instance, I must now have a word 
 with the young woman there." And before they 
 could look round, he was on the other side of the 
 Priest, close to Undine, and stretching up his tall 
 figure to whisper in her ear. But she turned hastily 
 away, saying, " I have nothing more to do with you 
 now." — " Heyday ! " said the stranger, laughing, 
 " what a prodigiously grand marriage yours nmst be, 
 if you are to cast off your relations in this way ! 
 Have you forgotten Uncle Kuhleborn, who brought 
 you all the way here on his back so kindly ? " 
 
 " But I entreat you," said Undine, " never come to 
 me again. I am afraid of you now ; and will not my 
 husband become afraid of me, if he finds I have so 
 strange a family ? " — " My little niece," said Kuhle- 
 born, " please to remember that I am protecting 
 you all this time ; the foul Spirits of Earth might 
 play you troublesome tricks if I did not. So you 
 had better let me go on with you, and no more 
 words. The old Priest there has a better memory 
 
UNDINE. 67 
 
 than yours, for he would have it he knew my face 
 very well, and that I must have been with him in 
 the boat, when he fell into the water. And he may 
 well say so, seeing that the wave which washed him 
 over was none but myself^ and I landed him safe on 
 the shore, in time for your wedding." 
 
 Undine and the Knight looked at Father Heil- 
 mann, but he seemed to be plodding on in a waking 
 dream, and not listening to what was said. Undine 
 said to Kiihleborn, " There, I can see the end of the 
 wood ; we want your help no longer, and there is 
 nothing to disturb us but you. So, in love and 
 kindness I entreat you, begone, and let us go in 
 peace." This seemed to make Kiihleborn angry; 
 he twisted his face hideously, and hissed at Undine, 
 who cried aloud for help. Like lightning the 
 Knight passed round her horse, and aimed a blow 
 at Kiihleborn's head with his sword. But instead 
 of the head, he struck into a water-fall, which gushed 
 foaming down a high cliff near them, and now 
 showered them all with a splash that sounded like 
 laughter, and wetted them to the bone. The Priest, 
 seeming to wake up, said, "Well, I was expecting 
 this, because th^t brook gushed down the rock so 
 close to us. At first I could not shake off the idea 
 that it was a man, and was speaking to me." The 
 water-fall whispered distinctly in Huldbrand's ear, 
 " Rash youth, dashing youth, I chide thee not, I 
 shame thee not ; still shield thy precious wife safe 
 and sure, rash young soldier, dashing Knight ! " 
 
68 
 
 UNDINE. 
 
 A little further on they emerged into the open 
 plains. The city lay glittering before them, and the 
 evening sun that gilded her towers, lent its grateful 
 warmth to dry their soaked garments. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 OF THEIR WAY OF LIFE IN THE TOWN. 
 
 The sudden disappearance of the young Knight 
 Huldbrand of Ringstetten had made a great stir in 
 the city, and distressed the inhabitants, with whom 
 liis gallantry in the lists and the dance, and his gen- 
 tle, courteous manners, had made him very popular. 
 His retainers would not leave the place without their 
 master, but yet none had the courage to seek him in 
 the haunted forest. They therefore remained in 
 their hostelry, idly hoping, as men are so apt to do, 
 and keeping alive the remembrance of their lost lord 
 by lamentations. But soon after, when the tempest 
 raged and the rivers overflowed, few doubted that the 
 handsome stranger must have perished. Bertalda, 
 among others, mourned him for lost, and was ready 
 to curse herself, for having urged him to the fatal 
 ride through the forest. Her ducal foster parents 
 had arrived to take her away, but she prevailed upon 
 them to wait a little, in hope that a true report of 
 Huldbrand's death or safety might reach them. She 
 tried to persuade some one of the young knights who 
 contended for her favor, to venture into the forest 
 and seek for the noble adventurer. But she would 
 
60 UNDINE. 
 
 not offer her hand as the reward, because she still 
 hoped to bestow it some day on the wanderer him- 
 self; and to obtain a glove, a scarf, or some such 
 token from her, none of them cared to expose his 
 life to bring back so dangerous a rival. 
 
 Now, when Huldbrand unexpectedly reappeared, 
 it spread joy among his servants, and all the people 
 generally, except Bertalda ; for while the others 
 were pleased at his bringing with him such a beauti- 
 ful wife, and Father Heilmann to bear witness to 
 their marriage, it could not but grieve her : first, be- 
 cause the young Knight had really won her heart ; 
 and next, because she had betrayed her feelings by 
 so openly lamenting his absence, far more than was 
 now becoming. However, she behaved like a pru- 
 dent woman, and suited her conduct to the circum- 
 stances, by living in the most cordial intimacy with 
 Undine, — who passed in the town for a princess, re- 
 leased by Huldbrand from the power of some wicked 
 enchanter of the forest. If she or her husband 
 were questioned about it, they gave evasive answers ; 
 Father Heilmann's lips were sealed on all such idle 
 topics, besides which, he had left them soon after 
 they arrived, and returned to his cloister: so the 
 citizens were left to their own wondering conject- 
 ures, and even Bertalda came no nearer the truth 
 than others. 
 
 Meanwhile, Undine grew daily more fond of this 
 winning damsel. " We must have known each 
 other before," she would often say, " or else some 
 
UNDINE. 61 
 
 secret attraction draws us toward each other; for 
 without some cause, some strange, mysterious cause, 
 I am sure nobody would love another as I have loved 
 you from the moment we met." Bertalda, on her 
 part, could not deny that she felt strongly inclined 
 to like Undine, notwithstanding the grounds of com- 
 plaint she thought she had against this happy rival. 
 The affection being mutual, the one persuaded her 
 parents, the other her wedded lord, to defer the day 
 of departure repeatedly ; they even went so far as 
 to propose that Bertalda should accompany Undine 
 to the castle of Ringstetten, near the source of the 
 Danube. 
 
 They were talking of this one fine evening, as 
 they sauntered by starlight round the market-place, 
 which was surrounded by high trees ; the young 
 couple had invited Bertalda to join their evening 
 stroll, and they now paced backward and forward 
 in pleasant talk, with the dark blue sky over their 
 heads, and a beautiful fountain before them in the 
 centre, which, as it bubbled and sprang up into fan- 
 ciful shapes, often caught their attention, and inter- 
 rupted the conversation. All around them was serene 
 and pleasant ; through the foliage gleamed the light 
 of many a lamp from the surrounding houses ; and 
 the ear was soothed by the hum of children at play, 
 and of sauntering groups like themselves ; they en- 
 ioyed at once the pleasure of solitude, and the social 
 happiness of being near the cheerful haunts of men. 
 Every little difficulty that had occurred to their fa 
 
62 UNDINE. 
 
 vorite plan, seemed to vanish upon nearer examina- 
 tion, and the three friends could not imagine that 
 Bertalda's consent to the journey need be delayed a 
 moment. But as she was on the point of naming a 
 day for joining them and setting out, a very tall man 
 came forward from the middle of the place, bowed 
 to them respectfully, and began whispering in Un- 
 dine's ear. She, though apparently displeased with 
 the interruption and with the speaker, stepped aside 
 with him, and they began a low discourse together, 
 in what sounded like a foreign language. Huld- 
 brand thought he knew this strange man's face, and 
 fixed his attention upon him so earnestly, that he 
 neither heard nor answered the astonished Bertalda's 
 questions. All at once Undine clapped her hands 
 joyfully, and turned her back, laughing, upon the 
 stranger ; he shook his head and walked off in an 
 angry, hurried manner, and stepped into the foun- 
 tain. This confirmed Huldbrand in his guess ; while 
 Bertalda inquired, " My dear Undine, what business 
 had that man of the fountain with you ? " Her 
 friend smiled archly and replied, " On your birthday, 
 the day after to-morrow, I will tell you, my sweet 
 girl ; " and she would say no more. She only 
 pressed Bertalda to come and dine with them on 
 that day, and bring her foster parents ; after which 
 they separated. 
 
 " Kiihleborn ? " said Huldbrand to his wife with a 
 suppressed shudder, as they walked home through 
 the dark streets. " Yes, it was he, replied Undine, 
 
UNDINE. 
 
 68 
 
 " and he tried to put all sorts of nonsense into my 
 head. However, without intending it he delighted 
 me by one piece of news. If you wish to hear it, 
 now, my kind lord, you have but to say so, and I 
 will tell you every word. But if you like to give 
 your Undine a very great delight, you will wait two 
 days, and then have your share in the surprise." 
 
 The Knight readily granted her what she had 
 asked so meekly and gracefully ; and as she dropped 
 asleep she nmrmured, " How it will delight her ! 
 how little she expects such a message from the mys- 
 terious man — dear, dear Bertalda ! " 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 bertalda's birthday. 
 
 The guests were now assembled at table ; Ber- 
 fcalda sat at the top, adorned with flowers like the 
 goddess of spring, and flashing with jewels, the gifts' 
 of many friends and relations. Undine and Hiild- 
 brand were on either side of her. When the sumpt- 
 uous meal was ended, and the dessert served, the 
 doors were opened — according to the good old 
 German custom — to let the common people look in 
 and have their share in the gayety of the rich. The 
 attendants offered wine and cake to the assembled 
 crowd. Huldbrand and Bertalda were eagerly watch- 
 ing for the promised disclosure, and both kept their 
 eyes fixed upon Undine. But she was still silent ; 
 her cheeks dimpled occasionally with a bright, con- 
 scious smile. Those that knew what she was about 
 to do, could perceive that her interesting secret was 
 ready to burst from her lips, but that she was play- 
 fully determined to keep it in, as children .sometimes 
 will save their daintiest morsels for the last. Her 
 silent glee communicated itself to the other two, 
 who watched impatiently for the happy news that 
 was about to gladden their hearts. Some of the 
 
UNDINE. 66 
 
 company now asked Undine for a song. She seemed 
 to be prepared with one, and sent for her lute, to 
 wMch she sang as follows : — 
 
 The sun gilds the wave, 
 
 The flowers are sweet, 
 And the ocean doth lave 
 
 The grass at our feet ! 
 
 What lies on the earth 
 
 So blooming and gay? 
 Doth a blossom peep forth 
 
 And greet the new day ? 
 
 Ah, 'tis a fair child ! 
 
 She sports with the flowers, 
 So gladsome and mild, 
 
 Through the warm sunny hours* 
 
 O sweet one, who brought thee ? 
 
 From far distant shore 
 Old Ocean he caught thee, 
 
 And many a league bore. 
 
 Poor babe, all in vain 
 
 Thou dost put forth thy hand; 
 None clasp it again, 
 
 'T is a bleak foreign land: 
 
 The flowers bloom brightly, 
 
 And soft breathes the air, 
 But all pass thee lightly : 
 
 Thy mother is far ! 
 
 Thy life scarce begun, 
 
 Thy smiles fresh from heaven, 
 Thy best treasure is gone. 
 
 To another ' t is given ! 
 5 
 
66 UNDINE. 
 
 A gallant charger treads the dell, 
 
 His noble rider pities thee : 
 He takes thee home, he tends thee well, 
 
 And cares for thee right gen'rously. 
 
 Well thou becom'st thy station high, 
 And bloom'st the fairest in the land; 
 
 And yet, alas! the purest joy 
 Is left on thine own distant strand. 
 
 Undine put down her lute with a melancholy smile ; 
 and the eyes of the Duke and Duchess filled with 
 tears : " So it was when I found you, my poor inno- 
 cent orphan ! " said the Duke with great emotion ; 
 " as the fair singer said, your best treasure was gone, 
 and we have been unable to supply its place." 
 
 " Now let us think of the poor parents," said Un- 
 dine ; and she struck the chords and sang : — 
 
 I. 
 
 Mother roves from room to room 
 
 Seeking rest, she knows not how . 
 The house is silent as the tomb, 
 
 And who is there to bless her now ? 
 
 Silent house ! Oh words of sorrow ! 
 
 Where is now her darling child ? 
 She who should have cheered the morrow, 
 
 And the evening hours beguiled ? - 
 
 The buds are swelling on the tree, 
 The sun returns when night is o'er; 
 
 But, mothei-, ne'er comes joy to thee, 
 
 Thy child shall bless thine eyes no more I 
 
UNDINE. 67 
 
 And when the evening breezes dIow, 
 And father seeks his own fireside, 
 
 He smiles, forgetful of his woe, 
 
 But ah ! his tears that smile shall hide. 
 
 Father knows that in his home 
 
 Deathlike stillness dwells for aye ; 
 
 The voice of mirth no more shall come. 
 
 And mother sighs the livelong day. 
 
 "O Undine, for God's sake, where are my par- 
 ents ? " cried Bertalda, weeping. " Surely you know, 
 you have discovered it, most wonderful woman ; else 
 how could you have stirred my inmost heart as you 
 have done? They are perhaps even now in the 
 room — can it be ? " — and her eyes glanced over 
 the gay assembly, and fixed upon a reigning Princess 
 who sat next to the Duke. But Undine bent for- 
 ward to the door, her eyes overflowing with the hap- 
 piest tears. " Where are they, the poor anxious 
 parents ? " said she ; and the old Fisherman and 
 his wife came out from the crowd of by-standers. 
 They turned an inquiring eye upon Undine, and then 
 upon the handsome lady whom they were to call 
 daughter. " There she is," faltered the delighted 
 Undine, and the aged couple caught their long-lost 
 child in their arms, thanking God, and weeping 
 aloud. 
 
 Affrighted and enraged, Bertalda shrank from 
 their embrace. It was more than her proud spirit 
 could bear, to be thus degraded ; at a moment, too, 
 
68 UNDINE. 
 
 when she was fully expecting an increase of splen- 
 dor, and fancy was showering pearls and diadems 
 upon her head. She suspected that her rival had 
 contrived this, on purpose to mortify her before 
 Huldbrand and all the world. She reviled both Un- 
 dine and the old people ; the hateful words, " Treach- 
 erous creature ! and bribed wretches ! " burst from 
 her lips. The old woman said in a half whisper, 
 " Dear me, she has grown up a wicked woman ; and 
 yet my heart tells me she is my own child." The 
 Fisherman had clasped his hands, and was praying 
 silently that this girl might not prove to be theirs 
 indeed. Undine, pale as death, looked from Bertalda 
 to the parents, from the parents to Bertalda, and 
 could not recover the rude shock she had sustained, 
 at being plunged from all her happy dreams into a 
 state of fear and misery, such as she had never 
 known before. 
 
 " Have you a soul ? Have you indeed a soul, Ber- 
 talda ? " she exclaimed once or twice, trying to re- 
 call her angry friend to reason, from what she took 
 for a fit of madness, or a kind of nightmare. But 
 Bertalda only stormed the louder ; the repulsed par- 
 ents wailed piteously, and the company began to dis- 
 pute angrily and to side with one or the other ; when 
 Undine stepped forward, and asked with so much 
 earnest gentleness to be listened to in her husband's 
 house, that all was hushed in a moment. She took 
 the place which Bertalda had left, at the head of the 
 table, and as she stood there in modest dignity, the 
 
UNDINE. 69 
 
 eyes of all turned toward her, and she said : " You all 
 that cast such angry looks at each other, and so cru- 
 elly spoil the joy of my poor feast, alas ! I little 
 knew what your foolish angry passions were, and I 
 think I never shall understand you. What I had 
 hoped would do so much good has led to all this ; 
 but that is not my fault, it is your own doing, believe 
 me ; I have little more to say, but one thing you 
 must hear : I have told no falsehood. Proofs I have 
 none to give, beyond my word, but I will swear to 
 the truth, of it. I heard it from him who decoyed 
 Bertalda from her parents into the water, and then 
 laid her down in the meadow where the Duke was 
 to pass." 
 
 " She is a sorceress," cried Bertalda, " a witch 
 who has dealings with evil spirits ! she has acknowl- 
 edged it." 
 
 " I have not," said Undine, with a heaven of inno- 
 cence and guilelessness in her eyes. " Nor am I a 
 witch — only look at me ! " 
 
 " Then she lies," cried Bertalda, " and she dares 
 not assert that I was born of these mean people. 
 My noble parents, I beseech you take me out of this 
 room, and this town, where they are leagued together 
 to insult me." 
 
 But the venerable Duke stood still, and his lady 
 said, " We must first sift this matter to the bottom. 
 Nothing shall make me leave the room till my 
 doubts are satisfied." 
 
 Then the old woman came up, made a deep obei* 
 
70 UNDINE. 
 
 Bance to the Duchess, and said, " You give me cour- 
 age to speak, my noble, worthy lady. I must tell 
 you, that if this ungodly young woman is my daugh- 
 ter, I shall know her by a violet mark between her 
 shoulders, and another on the left instep. If she 
 would but come with me into another room " — 
 
 " I will not uncover myself before that country- 
 woman," said Bertalda, proudly turning away. 
 
 " But before me, you will," rejoined the Duchess 
 gravely. "You shall go with me into that room, 
 young woman, and the good dame will accompany 
 us." They withdrew together, leaving the party in 
 silent suspense. In a few minutes they came back ; 
 Bertalda was deadly pale, and the Duchess said, 
 " Truth is truth, and I am bound to declare that our 
 Lady Hostess has told us perfectly right. Bertalda 
 is the Fisherman's daughter ; more than that, it con- 
 cerns nobody to know." And the princely pair de- 
 parted, taking with them their adopted child, and 
 followed (upon a sign from the Duke) by the Fish- 
 erman and his wife. The rest of the assembly broke 
 up, in silence or with secret murmurs, and Undine 
 sank into Huldbrand's arms, weeping bitterly. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 HOW THEY LEFT THE IMPERIAL CITY. 
 
 There was certainly much to displease the Lord 
 of Ringstetten in the events of this day ; yet he 
 could not look back upon them, without feeling 
 proud of the guileless truth and the generosity of 
 heart shown by his lovely wife. " If indeed her soul 
 was my gift," thought he, " it is nevertheless much 
 better than my own ; " and he devoted himself to the 
 task of soothing her grief, and determined he would 
 take her away the next morning from a spot now so 
 full of bitter recollections. 
 
 They were mistaken, however, in thinking that 
 she had lost in the eyes of the world by this adven- 
 ture. So prepared were the minds of the people to 
 find something mysterious in her, that her strange 
 discovery of Bertalda's origin scarcely surprised 
 them ; while, on the other hand, every one that 
 heard of Bertalda's history and of her passionate 
 behavior, was moved with indignation. Of this, the 
 Knight and Undine were not aware ; nor would it 
 have given them any comfort, for she was still as 
 jealous of Bertalda's good name as of her own. 
 
72 UNDINE. 
 
 Upon the whole, they had no greater wish than to 
 leave the town without delay. 
 
 At daybreak next morning, Undine's chariot was 
 in readiness at the door, and the steeds of Huld- 
 brand and of his squires stood around it, pawing 
 the ground with impatience. As the Knight led his 
 fair bride to the door, a fishing girl accosted them. 
 " We want no fish," said Huldbrand ; " we are just 
 going away." The girl began to sob bitterly, and 
 they then recognized her as Bertalda. They imme- 
 diately turned back into the house with her; and 
 she said that the Duke and Duchess had been so 
 incensed at her violence the day before, as to with- 
 draw their protection from her, though not without 
 giving her a handsome allowance. The Fisherman 
 too had received a liberal gift, and had departed that 
 evening with his wife, to return to the promontory. 
 "I would have gone with them," she continued, 
 " but the old Fisherman, whom they call my 
 father" — 
 
 " And so he is, Bertalda," interrupted Undine. 
 " He is your father. For the man you saw at the 
 fountain told me how it is. He was trying to per- 
 suade me that I had better not take you to Ringstet- 
 ten, and he let drop the secret." 
 
 "Well then," said Bertalda, "my father — if so it 
 must be — my father said, ' You shall not live with 
 us till you are an altered creature. Take courage, 
 and come across the haunted forest to us ; that will 
 show that you sincerely wish to belong to your par- 
 
M 
 
UNDIlfE. 78 
 
 ents. But do not come in your finery ; be like what 
 you are, a fisherman's daughter.' And 1 will do as 
 he bids me ; for the whole world has forsaken me, 
 and I have nothing left, but to live and die humbly 
 in a poor hut, alone with my lowly parents. I do 
 dread the forest very much. They say it is full of 
 grim spectres, and I am so timid ! But what can I 
 do? I came here only to implore the Lady of 
 Ringstetten's pardon for my rude language yester- 
 day. I have no doubt you meant what you did 
 kindly, noble Dame ; but you little knew what a 
 trial your words would be to me, and I was so 
 alarmed and bewildered, that many a hasty, wicked 
 word escaped my lips. Ah forgive me, forgive me ! 
 I am unhappy enough already. Only consider what 
 I was yesterday morning, even at the beginning of 
 your feast, and what I am now." 
 
 Her words were lost in a flood of bitter tears, and 
 Undine, equally affected, fell weeping on her neck. 
 It was long before her emotion Vould let her speak : 
 at length she said, " You shall go to Ringstetten with 
 us ; all shall be as we had settled it before ; only call 
 me Undine again, and not ' Lady ' and ' noble Dame.' 
 You see, we began by being exchanged in our cra- 
 dles ; our lives have been linked from that hour, and 
 we will try to bind them so closely that no human 
 power shall sever us. Come with us to Ringstetten, 
 and all will be well. We will live like sisters there, 
 trust me for arranging that." Bertalda looked tim- 
 idly at Huldbrand. The sight of this beautiful, for- 
 
74 UNDINE. 
 
 saken maiden affected him ; he gave her his hand, 
 and encouraged her kindlj^ to trust herself to him 
 and liis wife. " As to your parents," said he, *^ we 
 will let them know why you do not appear ; " and he 
 would have said much more concerning the good 
 old folks, but he observed that Bertalda shuddered 
 at the mention of them, and therefore dropped the 
 subject. He gave her his arm, placed first her and 
 then Undine in the carriage, and rode cheerfully 
 after them ; he urged the drivers on so effectually, 
 that they very soon found themselves out of sight of 
 the city, and beyond the reach of sad recollections 
 — and the two ladies could fully enjoy the beautiful 
 country through which the road wound along. 
 
 After a few days' travelling, they arrived, one 
 sunny evening, at the Castle of Ringstetten. Its 
 young lord had much business with his steward and 
 laborers to occupy him, so that Undine was left 
 alone with Bertalda. They took a walk on the high 
 ramparts of the castle, and admired the rich Swabian 
 landscape, which lay far and wide around them. A 
 tall man suddenly came up, with a courteous obei- 
 sance ; and Bertalda could not help thinking him 
 very like the ominous man of the fountain. The 
 likeness struck her still more, when, upon an impa- 
 tient and even menacing gesture of Undine's, he 
 went aw^ay with the same hasty step and shake of the 
 head as before. 
 
 " Do not be afraid, dear Bertalda," said Undine; 
 " the ugly man shall not harm you this time." After 
 
UNDINE. 75 
 
 which she told her whole history, beginning from 
 her birth, and how they had been exchanged in their 
 earliest childhood. At first her friend looked at her 
 with serious alarm ; she thought that Undine was 
 possessed by some delirium. But she became con- 
 vinced it was all true, as she listened to the well-con- 
 nected narrative, which accounted so well for the 
 strange events of the last months ; besides which, 
 there is something in genuine truth which finds an 
 answer in every heart, and can hardly be mistaken. 
 She was bewildered, when she found^ herself one of 
 the actors in a living fairy tale, and as wild a tale as 
 any she had read. She gazed upon Undine with 
 reverence ; but could not help feeling a chill thrown 
 over her affection for her ; and that evening at sup- 
 per time, she wondered at the Knight's fond love 
 and familiarity toward a being, whom she now 
 looked upon as rather a spirit than a human orea» 
 ture. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 HOW THEr LIVED IN THE CASTLE OF RINGSTETTEN. 
 
 As he who relates this tale is moved to the heart 
 by it, and hopes that it may affect his readers too, he 
 entreats of them one favor ; namely, that they will 
 bear with him while he passes rapidly over a long 
 space of time ; and be content if he barely touches 
 upon what happened therein. He knows well that 
 some would relate in great detail, step by step, how 
 Huldbrand's heart began to be estranged from Un- 
 dine, and drawn toward Bertalda ; while she cared 
 not to disguise from him her ardent love ; and how 
 between them the poor injured wife came to be rath- 
 er feared than pitied, — and when he showed her 
 kindness, a cold shiver would often creep over him, 
 and send him back to the child of earth, Bertal- 
 da; — all this the author knows, might be dwelt 
 upon ; nay, perhaps it ought so to be. But his 
 hearl shrinks from such a task, for he has met with 
 such passages in real life, and cannot even abide 
 their shadows in his memory. Perhaps, gentle read- 
 er, such feelings are known to thee also, for they are 
 the conmion lot of mortal man. Well is thee if 
 thou hast felt, not inflicted, these pangs ; in these 
 
UNDINE. 77 
 
 cases it is more blessed to receive than to give. As 
 Buch recollections wake up from their cells, they will 
 but cast a soft shade over the past ; and it may be 
 the thought of thy withered blossoms, once so 
 fondly loved, brings a gentle tear down thy cheek. 
 Enough of this : we will not go on to pierce our 
 hearts with a thousand separate arrows, but content 
 ourselves with saying, that so it happened in the 
 present instance. 
 
 Poor Undine drooped day by day, and the others 
 were neither of them happy; Bertalda especially 
 was uneasy, and ready to suspect the injured wife, 
 whenever she fancied herself slighted by Huld- 
 brand ; meantime she had gradually assumed the 
 command in the house, and the deluded Huldbrand 
 supported her openly. Undine looked on, in meek 
 resignation. To increase the discomfort of their 
 lives, there was no end to the mysterious sights and 
 sounds that haunted Huldbrand and Bertalda in the 
 vaulted galleries of the castle; such as had never 
 been heard of before. The long white man, too well 
 known to him as Uncle Kiihleborn, and to her as 
 the spirit of the fountain, often showed his threaten- 
 ing countenance to both ; but chiefly to Bertalda, 
 who had more than once been made ill by the fright, 
 and thought seriously of leaving the castle. But 
 her love for Huldbrand detained her, and she quiet- 
 ed her conscience by thinking, that it had never 
 come to a declaration of love between them ; and, 
 besides, she would not have known which way to 
 
78 UNDINE. 
 
 turn. After receiving the Lord of Ringstetten*a 
 message, that Bertalda was with them, the old Fish- 
 erman had traced a few lines, scarcely legible, from 
 infirmity and long disuse, saying, " I am now a poor 
 old widower ; for my dear good wife is dead. But, 
 lonely as I am by my fireside, I had rather Bertalda 
 stayed away than came here. Provided she does not 
 harm my dear Undine! My curse be upon her if 
 she does." Bertalda scattered these last words to 
 the winds, but treasured up her father's command 
 that she should not join him : as is the way with us 
 selfish beings. 
 
 One day, when Huldbrand had just ridden out, 
 Undine sent for her servants and desired them to 
 fetch a large stone and carefully to stop up the 
 mouth of the magnificent fountain, which played in 
 the centre of the court. The men objected, that 
 they must then always go down the valley to a 
 great distance for water. Undine smiled mournfully. 
 " It grieves me to add to your burdens, my good 
 friends," said she, " I had rather go and fill my 
 pitcher myself ; but this fountain must be sealed up. 
 Trust me, nothing else will do, and it is our only 
 way of escaping a much worse evil." 
 
 The servants rejoiced at any opportunity of 
 pleasing their gentle mistress ; not a word more was 
 said, and they lifted the huge stone. They had 
 raised it, and were about to let it down on the mouth 
 of the spring, when Bertalda ran up, calHng out to 
 them to stop : the water of this fountain was the 
 
UNDINE. 79 
 
 best for her complexion, and she never would con- 
 sent to its being stopped. But Undine, instead of 
 yielding as usual, kept firmly, though gently, to her 
 resolution ; she said that it behooved her, as mistress 
 of the house, to order all such matters as appeared 
 best to her, and none but her lord and husband 
 should call her to account. " Look, oh look ! " cried 
 Bertalda, eagerly and angrily, " how the poor bright 
 water curls and writhes, because you would deprive 
 it of every gleam of sunshine, and of the cheerful 
 faces of men, whose mirror it was created to be ! " 
 In truth, the spring did writhe and bubble up won- 
 derfully, just as if some one were trying to force his 
 way through ; but Undine pressed them the more to 
 dispatch the work. Nor was there much need to 
 repeat her commands. The household people were 
 too glad at once to obey their gentle lady, and to 
 mortify the pride of Bertalda, in spite of whose 
 threats and wrath, the stone was soon firmly fast- 
 ened down on the mouth of the spring. Undine 
 bent over it thoughtfully, and wrote on its surface 
 with her delicate fingers. Something very hard and 
 sharp must have been hidden in her hand; for 
 when she walked away, and the others came up, 
 they found all manner of strange characters on the 
 stone, none of which were there before. 
 
 When the Knight came home that evening, Ber- 
 talda received him with tears and complaints of 
 Undine. He looked sternly at his poor wife, who 
 mournfully cast down her eyes, saying, however, 
 
80 UNDINE. 
 
 with firmness, "My lord and husband would not 
 chide the meanest of his vassals, without giving him 
 a hearing, much less his wedded wife." — " Speak, 
 then ; what was your reason for this strange proceed- 
 ing ? " said the Knight with a frown. " I would 
 rather tell it you quite alone ! " sighed Undine. 
 " You can say it just as well in Bertalda's presence," 
 replied he. " Yes, if thou requirest it," said Undine, 
 " but require it not." She looked so humble, and so 
 submissive in her touching beauty, that the Knight's 
 heart was melted, as by a sunbeam from happier 
 days. He took her affectionately by the hand, and 
 led her to his own room, where she spoke to him as 
 follows. 
 
 "You know that wicked Uncle Kiihleborn, my 
 dearest lord, and have often been provoked at meet- 
 ing him about the castle. Bertalda, too, has been 
 often terrified by him. No wonder ; he is soulless, 
 shallow, and unthinking as a mirror, in whom no feel- 
 ing can pierce the surface. He has two or three 
 times seen that you were displeased with me, that I 
 in my childishness could not help weeping, and that 
 Bertalda might chance to laugh at the same mo- 
 ment. And upon this he builds all manner of unjust 
 suspicions, and interferes, unasked, in our concerns. 
 "What is the use of my reproaching him, or repuls- 
 ing him with angry words ? He believes nothing 
 that I say. A poor cold life is his! How should 
 he know, that the sorrows and the joys of love are 
 60 sweetly alike, so closely linked, that it is not in 
 
UNDINE. 81 
 
 human power to part them. When a tear gushes 
 out, a smile lies beneath ; and a smile will draw the 
 tears from their secret cells." 
 
 She smiled through her tears in Huldbrand's face, 
 and a warm ray of his former love shot through his 
 heart. She perceived this, pressed closer to him, 
 and with a few tears of joy she went on. 
 
 " As I found it impossible to get rid of our tor- 
 mentor by words, I had nothing for it, but to shut 
 the door against him. And his only access to us 
 was that fountain. He has quarreled with the other 
 fountain spirits in the surrounding valleys, and it is 
 much lower down the Danube, below the junction 
 of some of his friends with the great river, that his 
 power begins again. Therefore I stopped the mouth 
 of our fountain, and inscribed the stone with charac- 
 ters which cripple the might of my restless uncle ; 
 so that he can no longer cross your path, or mine, or 
 Bertalda's. Men can indeed lift the stone off as 
 easily as ever; the inscription has no power over 
 them. So you are free to comply with Bertalda's 
 wish ; but indeed, she little knows what she asks. 
 Against her the wild Ktihleborn has a most particu- 
 lar spite, and if some of his forebodings were to 
 come true, (as they might, without her intending 
 any harm,) O, dearest, even thou wert not free from 
 danger ! " 
 
 Huldbrand deeply felt the generosity of his noble- 
 minded wife, in so zealously shutting out her for- 
 midable protector, even when reviled by Bertalda 
 
82 UNDINE. 
 
 for so doing. He clasped her fondly in his arms, 
 and said with much emotion, " The stone shall re- 
 main ; and every thing shall be done as thou wish- 
 est, now and hereafter, my sweetest Undine." 
 
 Scarce could she trust these words of love, after 
 so dreary an estrangement ; she returned his caresses 
 with joyful but timid gratitude, and at length said, 
 " My own dear love, as you are so exceedingly kind 
 to me to-day, may I ask you to promise one thing ? 
 Herein you are like the summer : is ho not most 
 glorious when he decks his brows with thunders, 
 and frowns upon us from his throne of clouds ? So 
 it is when your eyes flash lightning ; it becomes you 
 well, although in my weakness I may often shed a 
 tear at it. Only, — if you would promise to refrain 
 from it wdien we are sailing, or even near any water. 
 For there, you see, my relations have a right to con- 
 trol me. They might relentlessly tear me from you 
 in their wrath, fancying that there is an insult of- 
 fered to one of their race ; and T should be doomed 
 to spend the rest of my life in the crystal palaces 
 below, without ever coming to you ; or if they did 
 send me up again, — oh Heaven, that would be far 
 worse ! No, no, ray best beloved ; you will not let it 
 come to that, if you love your poor Undine." 
 
 He solemnly promised to do as she asked him, 
 and they returned to the saloon, quite restored to 
 comfort and peace. They met Bertalda, followed by 
 a few laborers whom she had sent for, and she said 
 Id a tone of bitterness that had grown common with 
 
UNDINE. 8g 
 
 her of late, * So, now your private consultation is 
 over, and we may have the stone taken up. Make 
 haste, you people, and do it for me." But Huld- 
 brand, incensed at her arrogance, said shortly and 
 decidedly, " The stone shall not be touched," and he 
 then reproved Bertalda for her rudeness to his wife ; 
 upon which the laborers walked off, exulting se- 
 cretly, while Bertalda hurried away to her chamber, 
 pale and disturbed. 
 
 The hour of supper came, and they waited in vain 
 for Bertalda. A message was sent to her ; the ser- 
 vants found her room empty, and brought back only 
 a sealed letter directed to the Knight. He opened 
 it with trepidation and read, "I feel with 'shame that 
 I am only a fisherman's daughter. Having forgotten 
 it a moment, I will expiate my crime in the wretched 
 hut of my parents. Live happy with your beautiful 
 wife ! " 
 
 Undine was sincerely grieved; she entreated 
 Huldbrand to pursue their friend at once, and bring 
 her back with him. Alas ! there was little need of 
 entreaty. His passion for Bertalda returned with 
 fresh violence ; he searched the castle all over, ask- 
 ing every one if they could tell him in what direc- 
 tion the fair one had fled. He could discover noth- 
 ing ; and now he had mounted his horse in the 
 court, and stood ready to set forth, and try the route 
 by which he had brought Bertalda to the castle. 
 A peasant boy just then came up, saying that he had 
 net the lady riding toward the Black Valley. Like 
 
84 UNDINE. 
 
 a shot the Knight darted through the gate, and took 
 that direction, without heeding Undine's anxious 
 cries from a window : " To the Black Valley ? oh, 
 not there ! Huldbrand, not there ! Or take me with 
 you, for God's sake ! " Finding it vain to cry, she 
 had her white palfrey saddled in all haste, and gal- 
 loped after her husband, without allowing any one 
 to attend her. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 HOW BERTALDA DROVE HOME WITH THE KNIGHT, 
 
 The Black Valley lay among the deepest recesses 
 of the mountains. What it is called now none can 
 tell. In those times it bore that name among the 
 countrymen, on account of the deep gloom shed over 
 it by many high trees, mostly pines. Even the brook 
 which gushed down between the cliffs was tinged 
 with black, and never sparkled like the merry 
 streams from which nothing intercepts the blue of 
 heaven. Now, in the dusk of twilight, it looked 
 darker still as it gurgled between the rocks. The 
 Knight spurred his horse along its banks, now fear- 
 ing to lose ground in his pursuit, and now again, that 
 he might overlook the fugitive in her hiding-place, if 
 he hurried past too swiftly. He presently found 
 himself far advanced in the valley, and hoped he 
 must soon overtake her, if he were but in the right 
 track. Then again, the thought that it might be a 
 wrong one roused the keenest anxiety in his breast. 
 Where was the tender Bertalda to lay her head, if 
 he missed her in this bleak stormy night, which was 
 setting in, black and awful, upon the valley ? And 
 now he saw something white gleaming through the 
 
^Q UNDINE. 
 
 boughs, on the slope of the mountain ; he took it for 
 Bertalda's robe and made for it. But the horse 
 started back, and reared so obstinately that Huld- 
 brand, impatient of delay, and having already found 
 him difficult to manage amonsj the brambles of the 
 thicket, dismounted, and fastened the foaming steed 
 to a tree ; he then felt his way through the bushes 
 on foot. The boughs splashed his head and cheeks 
 roughly with cold wet dew; far off, he heard the 
 growl of thunder beyond the mountains, and the 
 whole strange scene had such an effect upon him, 
 that he became afraid of approaching the white fig- 
 ure, which he now saw lying on the ground at a short 
 distance. And yet he could distinguish it to be a 
 woman, dressed in long white garments like Bertal- 
 da's, asleep or in a swoon. He came close to her, 
 made the boughs rustle, and his sword ring,' — but 
 she stirred not. " Bertalda ! " cried he ; first gently, 
 then louder and louder, — in vain. When at length 
 he shouted the beloved name with the whole 
 strength of his lungs, a faint mocking echo returned 
 it from the cavities of the rocks — " Bertalda ! " but 
 the sleeper awoke not. He bent over her ; but the 
 gloom of the valley and the shades of night pre- 
 vented his discerning her features. At length, 
 though kept back by some boding fears, he knelt 
 down by her on the earth, and just then a flash of 
 lightning lighted up the valley. He saw a hideous 
 distorted face close to his own, and heard a hollow 
 voice say, " Give me a kiss, thou sweet shepherd ! " 
 
UNDINE. 87 
 
 With a cry of horror Huldbrand started up, and the 
 monster after him. " Go home ! " it cried, " the bad 
 spirits are abroad — go home ! or I have you ! " and 
 its long white arm nearly grasped him. " Spiteful 
 Kiihleborn," cried the Knight, taking courage, 
 " what matters it, I know thee, foul spirit ! There is 
 a kiss for thee ! " And he raised his sword furiously 
 against the figure. But it dissolved, and a drench- 
 ing shower made it sufficiently clear to the Knight 
 what enemy he had encountered. " He would scare 
 me away from Bertalda," said he aloud to himself; 
 " he thinks he can subdue me by his absurd tricks, 
 and make me leave the poor terrified maiden in his 
 power, that he may wreak his vengeance upon her. 
 But that he never shall — wretched goblin ! What 
 power lies in a human breast when steeled by firm 
 resolve, the contemptible juggler has yet to learn." 
 And he felt the truth of his own words, and seemed 
 to have nerved himself afresh by them. He thought, 
 too, that fortune now began to aid him, for before he 
 had got back to his horse again, he distinctly heard 
 the piteous voice of Bertalda as if near at hand, 
 borne toward him on the winds as their howling 
 mingled with the thunder. Eagerly did he push on 
 in that direction, and he found the trembling damsel, 
 who was just attempting to climb the mountain's 
 side, in order, at any risk, to get out of these awful 
 shades. 
 
 He met her affectionately, and however proudly 
 fihe might before have determined to hold out, she 
 
88 UNDINE. 
 
 could not but rejoice at being rescued by her much- 
 loved Huldbrand from the fearful solitude, and 
 warmly invited to return to his cheerful home in the 
 castle. She accompanied him with scarcely a word 
 of reluctance, but was so exhausted, that the Knight 
 felt much relieved when they had reached the horse 
 in safety ; he hastened to loose him, and would have 
 placed his tender charge upon him, and walked by 
 her side to guide her carefully through the danger- 
 ous shades. But KiJhleborn's mad pranks had 
 driven the horse quite wild. Hardly could the 
 Knight himself have sprung upon the terrified plung- 
 ing creature's back : to place the trembling Bertalda 
 upon him was quite impossible ; so they made up 
 their minds to walk home. With his horse's bridle 
 over one arm, Huldbrand supported his half-fainting 
 companion on the other. Bertalda mustered what 
 strength she could, in order the sooner to get be- 
 yond this dreaded valley, but fatigue weighed her 
 down like lead, and every limb shook under her; 
 partly from the recollection of all she had already 
 suffered from KiJhleborn's spite, and partly from ter- 
 ror at the continued crashing of the tempest through 
 the mountain forests. 
 
 At length she slid down from her protector's arm, 
 and sinking on the moss, she said : " Leave me to 
 die here, noble Huldbrand ; I reap the punishment 
 of my folly, and must sink under this load of fatigue 
 and anguish." — "Never, my precious friend, never 
 will I forsake you," cried Huldbrand, vainly striving 
 
UNDINE. 89 
 
 to curb his raging steed, who was now beginning to 
 start and plunge worse than ever : the Knight con- 
 trived to keep him at some distance from the ex- 
 Iiausted maiden, so as to save her the terror of see- 
 ing him near her. But no sooner had he withdrawn 
 himself and the wild animal a few steps, than she 
 began to call him back in the most piteous manner, 
 thinking he was indeed going to desert her in this 
 horrible wilderness. He was quite at a loss what to 
 do : gladly would he have let the horse gallop away 
 in the darkness and expend his wild fury, but that 
 he feared he might rush down upon the very spot 
 where Bertalda lay. 
 
 In this extremity of distress, it gave him unspeak- 
 able comfort to descry a wagon slowly descending 
 the stony road behind him. He called out for help : 
 a man's voice replied telling him to have patience, 
 but promising to come to his aid; soon two white 
 horses became visible through the thicket, and next 
 the white smock-frock of the wagoner, and a large 
 sheet of white linen that covered his goods inside. 
 " Ho, stop ! " cried the man, and the obedient horses 
 stood still. " I see well enough," said he, " what ails 
 the beast. When first I came through these parts 
 my horses were just as troublesome ; because there 
 is a wicked water-sprite living hard by, who takes 
 delight in making them play tricks. But I know a 
 ?harm for this ; if you will give me leave to whisper 
 it in your horse's ear, you will see him as quiet as 
 mine yonder in a moment." — " Try your charm, if 
 
00 UNDINE. 
 
 it will do any good ! " said the impatient Knight. 
 The driver pulled the unruly horse's head toward 
 him, and whispered a couple of words in his ear. 
 At once the animal stood still, tamed and pacified, 
 and showed no remains of his former fury but by 
 panting and snorting, as if he still chafed inwardly. 
 This was no time for Huldbrand to inquire how it 
 had been done. He agreed with the wagoner that 
 Bertalda should be taken into the wagon, which by 
 his account was loaded with bales of soft cotton, and 
 conveyed to the Castle of Ringstetten, while the 
 Knight followed on horseback. But his horse 
 seemed too much spent by his former violence to be 
 able to carry his master so far, and the man per- 
 suaded Huldbrand to get into the wagon with Ber- 
 talda. The horse was to be fastened behind. " We 
 shall go down hill," said the man, " and that is light 
 work for my horses." The Knight placed himself 
 by Bertalda, his horse quietly followed them, and 
 the driver walked by steadily and carefully. 
 
 In the deep stillness of night, while the storm 
 growled more and more distant, and in the con- 
 sciousness of safety and easy progress, Huldbrand 
 and Bertalda insensibly got into confidential dis- 
 course. He tenderly reproached her for having so 
 hastily fled ; she excused herself with bashful emo- 
 tion, and through all she said it appeared most 
 clearly that her heart was all his own. Huldbrand 
 was too much engrossed by the expression of her 
 words to attend to their apparent meaning, and he 
 
UNDINE. 91 
 
 only replied to tne former. Upon this, the wagoner 
 cried out in a voice that rent the air, " Now my 
 horses, up with you ; show us what you are made of, 
 my fine fellows ! " The Knight put out his head and 
 saw the horses treading or rather swimming through 
 the foaming waters, while the wheels whirled loudly 
 and rapidly like those of a water-mill, and the wag- 
 oner was standing upon the top of his wagon, 
 overlooking the floods. " Why, what road is this ? 
 It will take us into the middle of the stream," cried 
 Huldbrand. "No, sir," cried the driver laughing; 
 " it is just the other way. The stream is come into 
 the middle of the road. Look round, and see how 
 it is all flooded." 
 
 In fact, the whole valley was now heaving with 
 waves, that had swollen rapidly to a great height. 
 " This must be Kuhleborn, the wicked sprite, trying 
 to drown us ! " cried the Knight. " Have you no 
 charm to keep him off, friend ? " — "I do know of 
 one," said the driver, " but I can't and won't make use 
 of it, till you know who I am." — " Is this a time for 
 riddles ? " shouted the Knight ; " the flood is rising 
 every moment, and what care I to know who you 
 are ? " — " It rather concerns you, however, to know." 
 said the driver, " for I am Kuhleborn." And he 
 grinned hideously into the wagon — which was now 
 a wagon no longer, nor were the horses horses ; but 
 all dissolved into foaming waves ; the wagoner him- 
 self shot up into a giant waterspout, bore down the 
 struggling horse into the flood, and, towering over 
 
92 UNDINE. 
 
 the heads of the hapless pair, till he had swelled 
 into a watery mountain, he would have swallowed 
 them up the next moment. 
 
 But now the sweet voice of Undine was heard 
 above the wild uproar ; the moon shone out between 
 the clouds, and at the same instant Undine came 
 into sight, upon the high grounds above them. She 
 addressed Kiihleborn in a commanding tone, the 
 huge wave laid itself down, muttering and murmur- 
 ing ; the waters rippled gently away in the moon's 
 soft light, and Undine alighted like a white dove 
 from her airy height, and led them to a soft green 
 spot on the hill-side, where she refreshed their jaded 
 spirits with choice food. She then helped Bertalda 
 to mount her own white palfrey, and at length they 
 all three reached th« Castle of Ringstetten in safety. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE TRIP TO VIENNA. 
 
 For some time after this adventure they led a 
 quiet and peaceful life in the castle. The Knight 
 was deeply touched by his wife's angelic goodness, 
 so signally displayed by her pursuing and saving 
 them in the Black Valley, where their lives were 
 threatened by Kiihleborn. Undine herself was hap- 
 py in the peace of an approving conscience ; besides 
 that, many a gleam of hope now brightened her 
 path, as her husband's love and confidence seemed 
 to revive ; Bertalda meanwhile was grateful, modest, 
 and timid, without claiming any merit for being so. 
 If either of her companions alluded to the sealing 
 up of the fountain, or the adventures in the Black 
 Valley, she would implore them to spare her on 
 those subjects, because she could not think of the 
 fountain without a blush, nor the valley without a 
 shudder. She was therefore told nothing further ; 
 indeed, what would have been the use of enlighten- 
 ing her ? Nothing could add to the peace and hap- 
 piness which had taken up their abode in the Castle 
 of Ringstetten ; they enjoyed the present in full se- 
 
94 UNDINE. 
 
 ciirity, and the future lay before them, all blooming 
 with fair fruits and flowers. 
 
 The winter had gone by without any interruption 
 to their social comfort; and spring, with her young 
 green shoots and bright blue skies, began to smile 
 upon men ; their hearts felt light, like the young 
 season, and from its returning birds of passage, they 
 caught a fancy to travel. One day, as they were 
 walking together near the sources of the Danube, 
 Huldbrand fell into talk about the glories of that 
 noble river, how proudly he flowed on, through fruit- 
 ful lands, to the spot where the majestic city of 
 Vienna crowned his banks, and how every mile of 
 his course was marked by fresh grandeur and beauty 
 " How delightful it would be to follow his course 
 down to Vienna ! " cried Bertalda ; but instantly 
 relapsing into her timid, chastened manner, she 
 blushed and was silent. This touched Undine, and 
 in her eagerness to give her friend pleasure, she 
 said: " And why should we not take the trip?" 
 Bertalda jumped for joy, and their fancy began to 
 paint this pleasant recreation in the brightest colors. 
 Huldbrand encouraged them cheerfully, but whis- 
 pered once to Undine : " But, should not we get 
 within Kuhleborn's power again, down there ? " — 
 " Let him come," said she, laughing ; " I shall be with 
 you, and in my presence he durst not attempt any 
 mischief." 
 
 So the only possible objection seemed removed, 
 and they prepared for departure, and were soon sail- 
 
UNDINE. 96 
 
 ing along, full of spirit and of gay hopes. But, O 
 Man ! it is not for thee to wonder when the course 
 of events differs widely from the paintings of thy 
 fancy. The treacherous foe, that lures us to our 
 ruin, lulls his victim to rest with sweet music and 
 golden dreams. Our guardian angel, on the con- 
 trary, will often rouse us by a sharp and awakening 
 blow. 
 
 The first days they spent on the Danube were 
 days of extraordinary enjoyment. The further they 
 floated down the proud stream the nobler and fairer 
 grew the prospect. But, just as they had reached a 
 most lovely district, the first sight of which had 
 promised them great delight, the unruly Kiihleborn 
 began openly to give signs of his presence and pow- 
 er. At first they were only sportive tricks, because, 
 whenever he ruffled the stream and raised the wind, 
 Undine repressed him by a word or two, and made 
 him subside at once ; but his attempts soon began 
 again, and again Undine was obliged to warn him 
 off; so that the pleasure of the little party was griev- 
 ously disturbed. To make things worse, the water- 
 men would mutter many a dark surmise into each 
 other's ears, and cast strange looks at the three 
 gentlefolks, whose very servants began to feel sus- 
 picion, and to show distrust of their lord. Huld- 
 brand said to himself more than once, " This comes 
 of uniting with other than one's like : a son of earth 
 may not marry a wondrous maid of ocean." To 
 justify himself (as we all love to do) he would add, 
 
96 UNDINE. 
 
 " But I did not know she was a maid of ocean. If 
 I am to be pursued and fettered wherever I go by 
 the mad freaks of her relations, mine is the misfor- 
 tune, not the fault." Such reflections somewhat 
 checked his self-reproaches ; but they made him 
 the more disposed to accuse, nay, even to hate Un- 
 dine. Already he began to scowl upon her, and the 
 poor wife understood but too well his meaning. 
 Exhausted by this, and by her constant exertions 
 against Kiihleborn, she sank back one evening in 
 the boat, and was lulled by its gentle motion into a 
 deep sleep. 
 
 But no sooner were her eyes closed, than every 
 one in the boat thought he saw, just opposite his 
 own eyes, a terrific human head rising above the 
 water ; not like the head of a swimmer, but planted 
 upright on the surface of the river, and keeping 
 pace with the boat. Each turned to his neighbor to 
 show him the cause of his terror, and found him 
 looking equally frightened, but pointing in a differ- 
 ent direction, where the half-laughing, half-scowl- 
 ing goblin met his eyes. When at length they tried 
 to explain the matter to each other, crying out, 
 " Look there ; no, there ! " each of them suddenly 
 perceived the other's phantom, and the water round 
 the boat appeared all alive with ghastly monsters. 
 The cry which burst from every mouth awakened 
 Undine. Before the light of her beaming eyes the 
 the horde of misshapen faces vanished. But Huld- 
 brand was quite exasperated by these fiendish tricks, 
 
UNDINE. 97 
 
 and would have burst into loud imprecations, had 
 not Undine whispered in the most beseeching man- 
 ner, " For God's sake, my own lord, be patient now ! 
 remember we are on the water." The Knight kept 
 down his anger, and soon sank into thought. Pres- 
 ently Undine whispered to him : " My love, had not 
 we better give up the foolish journey, and go home 
 to Ringstetten in comfort ? " But Huldbrand mut- 
 tered angrily, " Then I am to be kept a prisoner in 
 my own castle ? and even there I may not breathe 
 freely unless the fountain is sealed up ? Would to 
 Heaven the absurd connection " — But Undine 
 pressed her soft hand gently upon his lips. And he 
 held his peace, and mused upon all she had pre- 
 viously told him. 
 
 In the mean time, Bertalda had yielded herself 
 up to many and strange reflections. She knew some- 
 thing of Undine's origin, but not all! and Kuhle- 
 born in particular was only a fearful but vague im- 
 age in her mind ; she had not even once heard his 
 name. And as she pondered these wonderful sub- 
 jects, she half unconsciously took off a golden 
 necklace which Huldbrand had bought for her of a 
 travelling jeweller a few days before ; she held it 
 close to the surface of the river playing with it, and 
 dreamily watching the golden gleam that it shed on 
 the glassy water. Suddenly a large hand came up 
 out of the Danube, snatched the necklace, and 
 ducked under with it. Bertalda screamed aloud, 
 and was answered by a laugh of scorn from the 
 
 7 
 
98 UNDINE. 
 
 depths below. And now the Knight could coutsun 
 himself no longer. Starting up, he gave a loose to 
 his fury, loading with imprecations those who chose 
 to break into his family and private life, and chal- 
 lenging them — were they goblins or sirens — to 
 meet his good sword. Bertalda continued to weep 
 over the loss of her beloved jewel, and her tears 
 were as oil to the flames of his wrath ; while Undine 
 kept her hand dipped into the water, with a ceaseless 
 low murmur, only once or twice interrupting her 
 mysterious whispers, to say to her husband in tones 
 of entreaty, " Dearest love, speak not roughly to me 
 here ; say whatever you will, only spare me here ; 
 you know why ! " and he still restrained his tongue 
 (which stammered with passion) from saying a word 
 directly against her. She soon drew her hand from 
 under the water, bringing up a beautiful coral neck- 
 lace whose glitter dazzled them all. " Take it," said 
 she, offering it kindly to Bertalda : " I have sent for 
 this, instead of the one you lost ; do not grieve any 
 more, my poor child.*' But Huldbrand darted for- 
 ward, snatched the shining gift from Undine's hand, 
 hurled it again into the water, and roared furiously, 
 " So you still have intercourse with them ? In the 
 name of sorcery, go back to them with all your bau- 
 bles, and leave us men in peace, witch as you are ! " 
 With eyes aghast, yet streaming with tears, poor 
 Undine gazed at him, still holding out the hand 
 which had so lovingly presented to Bertalda the 
 bright jewel. Then she wept more and more, like 
 
UNDINE. 99 
 
 a sorely injured, innocent child. And «t length she 
 said faintly, " Farewell, my dearest ; farewell ! They 
 shall not lay a finger on thee ; only be true to me, 
 that I may still guard thee from them. But I, alas ! 
 I must be gone ; all this bright morning of life is 
 over. Woe, woe is me ! what hast thou done ? woe, 
 woe ! " And she slipped out of the boat and passed 
 away. "Whether she went down into the river, or 
 flowed away with it, none could tell ; it was like both 
 and yet like neither. She soon mingled with the 
 waters of the Danube, and nothing was to be heard 
 but the sobbing whispers of the stream as it washed 
 against the boat, seeming to say distinctly, " Woe, 
 woe ! Oh be true to me ! woe, woe ! " 
 
 Huldbrand lay flat in the boat, drowned in tears, 
 till a deep swoon came to tha unhappy man's reUef; 
 and steeped him in oblivion. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 OF WHAT BEFELL HULDBRAND AFTERWARDS. 
 
 Shall we say, Alas, or thank God, that our grief 
 IS so often transient ? I speak of such grief as has 
 its source in the well-springs of life itself, and seems 
 so identified with our lost friend, as almost to fill 
 up the void he has left; and his hallowed image 
 seems fixed within the sanctuary of our soul, until 
 the signal of our release comes, and sets us free to 
 join him ! In truth, a good man will not sufter this 
 sanctuary to be disturbed ; yet even with him, it is 
 not the first, the all engrossing sorrow which abides. 
 New objects will intermingle, and we are compelled 
 to draw from our grief itself a fresh proof of the 
 perishableness of earthly things : alas, then, that our 
 grief is transient ! 
 
 So it was with the Lord of Ringstetten ; whether 
 for his weal or woe, the sequel of this story will 
 show us. At first, he could do nothing but weep 
 abundantly, as his poor kind Undine had wept when 
 he snatched from her the beautiful gift, which she 
 thought would have comforted and pleased them so 
 much. He would then stretch out his hand as she 
 had done, and burst into tears afresh, like her. He 
 
UNDINE. 101 
 
 secretly hoped that he might end by altogether dis- 
 solving in tears: and are there not many, whose 
 minds have been visited by the same painfully pleas- 
 ing thought, at some season of great sorrow ? Ber- 
 talda wept with him, and they lived quietly together 
 at Ringstetten a long while, cherishing the memory 
 of Undine, and seeming to have forgotten their own 
 previous attachment. Moreover, the gentle Undine 
 often appeared to Hulbrand in his dreams ; she 
 would caress him meekly and fondly, and depart 
 again with tearful resignation, so that when he 
 awoke, he doubted whose tears they were that be- 
 dewed his face — were they her's, or only his own ? 
 
 But as time went on these visions became less 
 frequent, and the Knight's grief milder; still he 
 might perhaps have spent the rest of his days con- 
 tentedly, devoting himself to the memory of Undine, 
 and keeping it alive by talking of her, had not the 
 old Fisherman unexpectedly made his appearance, 
 and laid his serious commands upon Bertalda, his 
 daughter, to return home with him. The news of 
 Undine's disappearance had reached him, and he 
 would no longer suffer Bertalda to remain in the 
 castle alone with its lord. " I do not ask whether 
 my daughter cares for me or not," said he; "her 
 character is at stake, and where that is the case, 
 nothing else is worth considering." 
 
 This summons from the old man, and the pros- 
 pect of utter loneliness amid the halls and long gal- 
 leries of the castle after Bertalda's departure, revived 
 
102 UNDINE. 
 
 in Huldbrand's heart the feeling that had lain dor- 
 mant, and as it were buried under his mourning for 
 Undine, namely, his love for the fair Bertalda. The 
 Fisherman had many objections to their marriage ; 
 Undine had been very dear to the old man, and he 
 thought it hardly certain yet that his lost darling was 
 really dead. But, if her corpse were indeed lying 
 stiff and cold in the bed of the Danube, or floating 
 down its stream to the distant ocean, then Bertalda 
 ought to reproach herself for her death, and it ill 
 became her to take the place of her poor victim. 
 However, the Fisherman was very fond of Huldbrand 
 also ; the entreaties of his daughter, who was now 
 grown much more gentle and submissive, had their 
 effect, and it seems that he did yield his consent at 
 last ; for he remained peaceably at the castle, and an 
 express was sent for Father Heilmann, who in ear- 
 lier, happier days had blessed Undine's and Huld- 
 brand's union, that he might officiate at the Knight's 
 second marriage. 
 
 No sooner had the holy man read the Lord of 
 Ringstetten's letter than he set forth on his way 
 thither, with far greater speed than the messenger 
 had used to reach him. If his straining haste took 
 away his breath, or he felt his aged limbs ache with 
 fatigue, he would say to himself: " I may be in time 
 to prevent a wicked deed ; sink not till thou hast 
 reached the goal, my withered frame ! " And so he 
 exerted himself afresh, and pushed on, without flag- 
 ging or halting, till late one evening he entered the 
 shady court of Ringstetten. 
 
CNDINE. 103 
 
 The lovers were sitting hand in hand under a tree-, 
 with the thoughtful old man near them ; as soon as 
 they saw Father Heilmann, they rose eagerly and 
 advanced to meet him. But he, scarcely noticing 
 their civilities, begged the Knight to come with bim 
 into the castle. As he stared at this request, and 
 hesitated to comply, the pious old Priest said : 
 " Why, indeed, should I speak to you alone, my 
 Lord of Ringstetten ? What I have to say equally 
 concerns the Fisherman and Bertalda ; and as they 
 must sooner or later know it, It had better be said 
 now. How can you be certain, Lord Huldbrand, 
 that your own wife is indeed dead ? For myself, I 
 can hardly think so. I will not venture to speak of 
 things relating to her wondrous nature ; in truth, I 
 have no clear knowledge about it. But a godly and 
 faithful wife she proved herself, beyond all about. 
 And these fourteen nights has she come to my bed- 
 side in dreams, wringing her poor hands in anguish, 
 and sighing out, " Oh stop him, dear father ! I am 
 yet alive ! Oh save his life ! Oh save his soul ! " I 
 understood not the meaning of the vision till your 
 messenger came ; and I have now hastened hither, 
 not to join but to part those hands, which may not 
 be united in holy wedlock. Part from her, Huld- 
 brand! Part from him, Bertalda! He belongs to 
 another ; see you not how his cheek turns pale at 
 the thought of his departed wife ? Those are not 
 •,he looks of a bridegroom, and the spirit tells ma 
 this. If thou leavest him not now, there is joy for 
 
104 UNDINE. 
 
 thee no more." They all three felt at the bottom of 
 their hearts that Father Heilraann's words were true ; 
 but they would not yield to them. Even the old 
 Fisherman was so blinded, as to think that what had 
 been settled between them for so many days, could 
 not now be relinquished. So they resisted the 
 Priest's warnings, and urged the fulfillment of their 
 wishes with headlong, gloomy determination, till 
 Father Heilraann departed with a melancholy shake 
 of the head, without accepting even for one night 
 their proffered hospitalities, or tasting any of the 
 refreshments they set before him. But Huldbrand 
 persuaded himself that the old Priest was a weak 
 dotard ; and early next morning he sent to a monk 
 from the nearest cloister, who readily promised to 
 come and marry them in a few days. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE knight's dream. 
 
 The morning twilight was beginning to dawn, and 
 the Knight lay half-awake on his couch. When- 
 ever he dropped asleep he was scared by mysterious 
 terrors, and started up as if sleep were peopled by 
 phantoms. If he woke up in earnest, he felt himself 
 fanned all around by what seemed like swans* wings, 
 and soothed by watery airs, which lulled him back 
 again into the half-unconscious, twilight state. At 
 length he did fall asleep and fancied himself lifted 
 by swans on their soft wings, and carried far away 
 over lands and seas, all to the sound of their sweet- 
 est melody. " Swans singing ! swans singing ! " 
 thought he continually; is not that the strain of 
 Death?" Presently he found himself hovering 
 above a vast sea. A swan warbled in his ear that it 
 was the Mediterranean ; and as he looked down into 
 the deep it became like clear crystal, transparent to 
 the bottom. This rejoiced him much, for he could 
 see Undine sitting in a brilliant hall of crystal. 
 
 She was shedding tears, indeed, and looked sadly 
 changed since the happy times which they had spent 
 together at Ringstetten ; happiest at first, but happy 
 
106 UNDINE. 
 
 also a short time since, just before the fatal sail on 
 the Danube. The contrast struck Huldbrand deep- 
 ly ; but Undine did not seem to be aware of his 
 presence. KUhleborn soon came up to her, and be- 
 gan rating her for weeping. She composed herself, 
 and looked at him with a firmness and dignity, be- 
 fore which he almost quailed. " Though I am con- 
 demned to live under these deep waters," said she, 
 " I have brought my soul with me ; therefore my 
 tears cannot be understood by thee. But to me 
 they are blessings, like every thing that belongs to a 
 loving soul." He shook his head incredulously, and 
 said, after a pause : " Nevertheless, niece, you are 
 still subject to the laws of our element; and you 
 know you must execute sentence of death upon him 
 as soon as he marries again, and breaks faith with 
 you." — " To this hour he is a widower," said Undine, 
 " and loves and mourns me truly." — " Ah, but he 
 will be a bridegroom soon," said Kiihleborn with a 
 sneer ; " wait a couple of days only, and the marriage 
 blessing will have been given, and you must go up 
 and put the criminal to death." — "I cannot ! " an- 
 swered the smiling Undine. " I have had the foun- 
 tain sealed up, against myself and my whole race." 
 " But suppose he leaves his castle," said Kiihleborn, 
 " or forgets himself so far as to let them set the foun- 
 tain ' free ; ' for he thinks mighty little of those mat- 
 ters." — " And that is why," said Undine, still smiling 
 through her tears, " that is why his spirit hovers at 
 this moment over the Mediterranean, and listens to 
 
UNDINE. 107 
 
 Dur conversation as in a dream. I hav^e contrived it 
 on purpose, that he may take warning." On hear- 
 ing this Kiihleborn looked up angrily at the Knight, 
 scowled at him, stamped, and then shot upwards 
 through the waves like an arrow. His fury seemed 
 to make him expand into a whale. Again the swans 
 began to warble, to wave their wings, and to fly ; the 
 Knight felt himself borne high over alps and rivers, 
 till he was deposited in the Castle of Ringstetten, 
 and awoke in his bed. 
 
 He did awake in his bed, just as one of his 
 squires entered the room, and told him that Father 
 Heilmann was still lingering near the castle ; for he 
 had found him the evening before in the forest, liv- 
 ing in a shed he had made for himself with branches 
 and moss. On being asked what he was staying 
 for, since he had refused to bless the betrothed 
 couple ? he answered, " It is not the wedded only 
 who stand in need of prayer; and though I came 
 not for the bridal, there may yet be work for me of 
 another kind. We must be prepared for every thing. 
 Sometimes marriage and mourning are not so far 
 apart ; and he who does not willfully close his eyes 
 rnay perceive it." The Knight built all manner of 
 strange conjectures upon these words, and upon his 
 dream. But if once a man has formed a settled 
 purpose, it is hard indeed to shake it. The end af 
 this was, that their plans remained unchanged. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 OF THE KNIGHT HULDBRAND'S SECOND BRIDAL. 
 
 Were I to tell you how the wedding-day at Ring 
 Btetten passed, you might imagine yourself contem- 
 plating a glittering heap of gay objects, with a black 
 crape thrown over them, through which the splendid 
 pageant, instead of delighting the eye, would look 
 like a mockery of all earthly joys. Not that the 
 festive meeting was disturbed by any spectral appari- 
 tions : we have seen that the castle was safe from 
 any intrusion of the malicious water sprites. But 
 the Knight, the Fisherman, and all the guests were 
 haunted by a feeling that the chief person, the soul 
 of the feast, was missing ; and who was she but the 
 gentle, beloved Undine ? As often as they heard a 
 door open, every eye turned involuntarily toward it, 
 and when nothing ensued but the entrance of the 
 steward with some more dishes, or of the cupbearer 
 with a fresh supply of rich wine, the guests would 
 look sad and blank, and the sparks of gayety kindled 
 by the light jest or the cheerful discourse, were 
 quenched in the damp of melancholy recollections. 
 The bride was the most thoughtless, and conse- 
 ^[uently the most cheerful person present ; but even 
 
UNDINE. 109 
 
 she, at moments, felt it unnatural to be sitting at 
 the head <^ the table, decked out in her wreath of 
 green and her embroidery of gold, while Undine's 
 corpse was lying- cold and stiff in the bed of the 
 Danube, or floating^ down its stream to the ocean. 
 For, ever since her father had used these wordvS, 
 they had been ringing in her ears, and to-day es- 
 pecially they pursued her without ceasing. 
 
 The party broke up before night had closed in ; 
 not, as usual, dispersed by the eager impatience of 
 the bridegroom to be alone with his bride ; but 
 dropping off listlessly, as a general gloom spread 
 over the assembly ; Bertalda was followed to her 
 dressing-room by her women only, and the Knight 
 by his pages. At this gloomy feast, there was no 
 question of the gay and sportive train of bridesmaids 
 and young men, who usually attend the wedded pair. 
 
 Bertalda tried to call up brighter thoughts ; she 
 bade her women display before her a splendid set of 
 jewels, the gift of Huldbrand, together with her 
 richest robes and veils, that she might select the gay- 
 est and handsomest dress for the morrow. Her 
 maids seized the opportunity of wishing their young 
 mistress all manner of joy, nor did they fail to extol 
 the beauty of the bride to the skies. Bertalda, liow- 
 ever, glanced at herself in the glass, and sighed : 
 "Ah, but look at the freckles just here, on my 
 throat ! " They looked and found it was indeed so, 
 but called them beauty spots that would only en- 
 hance the fairness of her delicate skin. Bertalda 
 
112 UNDINE. 
 
 thus Undine had been wont to knock, when she 
 meant to steal upon him playfully. " It is all fancy ! " 
 thought he. " The bridal bed awaits me." — " Yes, 
 but it is a cold one," said a weeping voice from with- 
 out ; and the mirror then showed him the door open- 
 ing slowly, and the white form coming in, and closing 
 the door gently behind her. "They have opened 
 the mouth of the spring," murmured she ; " and now 
 I am come, and now must thou die." His beating 
 heart told him this was indeed true ; but he pressed 
 his hands over his eyes, and said : " Do not bewilder 
 me with terror in my last moments. If thy veil 
 conceals the features of a spectre, hide them from 
 me still, and let me die in peace." — " Alas ! " re- 
 joined the forlorn one, " wilt thou not look upon me 
 once again ? I am fair, as when thou didst woo me 
 on the promontory." — " Oh, could that be true ! " 
 sighed Huldbrand, " and if I might die in thy em- 
 brace ! " — " Be it so, my dearest," said she. And 
 she raised her veil, and the heavenly radiance of her 
 sweet countenance beamed upon him. 
 
 Trembling, at once with love and awe, the Knight 
 approached her ; she received him with a tender 
 embrace ; but instead of relaxing her hold, she 
 pressed him more closely to her heart, and wept as 
 if her soul would pour itself out. Drowned in her 
 iears and his own, Huldbrand felt his heart sink 
 within him, and at last he fell lifeless from the fond 
 arms of Undine upon his pillow. 
 
undinp:. 
 
 113 
 
 " I have wept him to death ! " said she to the 
 pages, whom she passed in the antechamber ; and 
 she glided slowly through tl^e crowd, and went back 
 to the fountain. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 HOW 'THE KNIGHT HULDBRAND WAS INTERRED. 
 
 Father Heilmann had returned to the castle, as 
 soon as he heard of the Ljprd of Ringstetten's death, 
 and he appeared there just after the monk, who had 
 married the hapless pair, had fled full of alarm and 
 horror. " It is well," answered Heilmann, when told 
 this : " now is the time for my office ; I want no as- 
 sistant." He addressed spiritual exhortations to the 
 widowed bride, but little impression could be made 
 on so worldly and thoughtless a mind. The old 
 Fisherman, although grieved to the heart, resigned 
 himself more readily to the awful dispensation ; and 
 when Bertalda kept calling Undine a witch and a 
 murderer, the old man calinly answered : " The 
 stroke could not be turned away. For my part, I 
 see only the hand of God therein ; and none grieved 
 more deeply over Huldbrand's sentence, than she 
 who was doomed to inflict it, the poor forsaken Un- 
 dine ! " And he helped to arrange the funeral cere- 
 monies in a manner suitable to the high rank of the 
 dead. He was to be buried in a neighboring hamlet, 
 whose churchyard contained the graves of all his an- 
 cestors, and which he had himself enriched with 
 
' UNDINE. 115 
 
 many noble gifts. His helmet and coat of arms lay 
 upon the coffin, about to be lowered into earth with 
 his mortal remains ; for Lord Huldbrand of Ring- 
 stetten was the last of his race. 
 
 The mourners began their dismal procession, and 
 the sound of their solemn dirge rose into the calm 
 blue depths of heaven : Heilmann walked first, 
 bearing on high a crucifix, and the bereaved Ber- 
 talda followed leaning on her aged father. Suddenly, 
 amid the crowd of mourners who composed the 
 widow's train, appeared a snow-white figure, deeply 
 veiled, with hands uplifted in an attitude of intense 
 grief Those that stood near her felt a shudder 
 creep over them ; they shrank back, and thus in- 
 creased the alarm of those whom the stranger next 
 approached, so that confusion gradually spread itself 
 through the whole train. Here and there was to be 
 found a soldier bold enough to address the figure, 
 and attempt to drive her away ; but she always 
 eluded their grasp, and the next moment reappeared 
 among the rest, moving along with slow and solemn 
 step. At length, when the attendants had all fallen 
 back, she found herself close behind Bertalda, and 
 now slackened her pace to the very slowest measure, 
 so that the widow was not aware of her presence. 
 No one disturbed her again, while she meekly and 
 reverently glided on behind her. 
 
 So they advanced till they reached the church- 
 yard, when the whole procession formed a circle 
 round the open grave. Bertalda then discovered the 
 
116 UNDINE. 
 
 unbidden guest, and half-angry, half-frightened, she 
 forbade her to come near the Knight's resting-place. 
 But the veiled form gently shook her head, and ex- 
 tended her hands in humble entreaty ; this gesture 
 reminded Bertalda of poor Undine, when she gave 
 her the coral necklace on the Danube, and she could 
 not but weep. Father Heilmann enjoined silence ; 
 for they had begun to heap earth over the grave, 
 and were about to offer up solemn prayers around it. 
 Bertalda knelt down in silence, and all her followers 
 did the same. When they arose, lo, the white form 
 had vanished ! and on the spot where she had knelt, 
 a bright silvery brook now gushed out of the turf, 
 and flowed round the Knight's tomb, till it had al- 
 most wholly encircled it ; then it ran further on, and 
 emptied itself into a shady pool which bounded one 
 side of the churchyard. From that time forth, the 
 villagers are said to have shown travellers this clear 
 spring, and they still believe it to be the poor for- 
 saken Undine, who continues thus to twine her arms 
 round her beloved lord. 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 A MILD summer evening rested on the sea-shore 
 near the city of Malaga, awakening the guitar of 
 many a cheerful singer, as well from the ships in the 
 harbor as from the houses in the city and the orna- 
 mental garden-dwellings around. These melodious 
 tones emulated the voices of the birds as they greeted 
 the refreshing breezes and floated from the mead- 
 ows over this enchanting region. 
 
 Some troops of infantry were on the strand, and 
 purposed to pass the night there, that they might be 
 ready to embark at the earliest dawn of morning. 
 This pleasant evening made them forget that they 
 ought to devote to sleep their last hours on European 
 ground ; they began to sing war-songs, and to drink 
 long life to the mighty Emperor Charles V., now 
 beleaguering the pirate-nest of Tunis, and to whose 
 assistance they were about to sail. 
 
 These happy soldiers were not all of one race. 
 Only two banners waved for Spain ; the third bore 
 the German colors ; and the difference of manners 
 
120 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 and speech had often previously given rise to uuich 
 bantering. Now, however, thoughts of the approach- 
 ing voyage, and the dangers they would share to- 
 gether, as well as the enjoyment which this lovely 
 southern evening poured through soul and sense, 
 united the comrades in full and undisturbed concord. 
 The Germans tried to speak Spanish, and the vSpan- 
 iards German, without its recurring to any one to 
 remark the blunders and mistakes that were made. 
 Each helped the other ; thinking only how best to 
 gain the good-will of his companion by means of his 
 own language. 
 
 Apart from this noisy group, a young German 
 captain. Sir Heimbert of Waldhausen, was reclining 
 under a cork-tree, and looking up to the stars with a 
 steadfast and solemn gaze, very different from the 
 frank, social spirit which his comrades knew and 
 loved in him so well. A Spanish captain, named 
 Don Frederigo Mendez, approached him. He was 
 as young, and as much accustomed to martial ex- 
 ercises; but his disposition was as reserved and 
 thoughtful as Heimbert's was gentle and frank. 
 " Pardon me, seiior," began the solemn Spaniard, 
 " if I disturb your meditations ; but I have so often 
 known you as a courageous warrior and faithful com- 
 panion in arms, in the many hot fights in which 1 
 have had the honor to see you, that I would choose 
 you before all others for a knightly service, if it will 
 not interfere with your own plans and projects foi 
 this evening." 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 121 
 
 " Dear sir," frankly returned Heimbert, " I have 
 an affair of importance to transact before sunrise ; 
 but till midnight I am right AviJling and ready to 
 render you any service as a brother in arms." 
 
 " Enough," said Frederigo ; " for before midnight 
 must the tones have long ceased, in "which I take 
 leave of the dearest creature I have known in my 
 native city. But, that you may understand the whole 
 affair, as my noble companion should, listen to me 
 attentively for a few moments : — 
 
 " Some time before I left Malaga to join our great 
 emperor's army, and to assist in spreading the glory 
 of his arms in Italy, I served, after the manner of 
 young knights, a damsel of this city, the beautiful 
 Lucilla. She stood hardly on the border that di- 
 vides childhood from growing womanhood ; and as 
 I, then a mere boy, offered my homage with friendly 
 childlike mind, so my young mistress in similar guise 
 received it. 
 
 " At last I went to Italy, as you very well know, 
 who were my companion in many a hot fight, as well 
 as in many a magic and tempting scene in that lux- 
 urious land. Through all our changes I held the 
 image of my gentle mistress steadfastly, and never 
 once relinquished the service and faith I had vowed 
 to her ; though I will not conceal from you that it 
 was more to fulfill the word I had pledged at niy 
 departure than from any immoderate glowing feeling 
 of my heart. When we returned to my native city, 
 a few weeks since, I found my lady married to one 
 
122 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 of the richest and most distinguished knights of Mal- 
 aga. Fiercer far than love, jealousy (that almost 
 almighty child of heaven and hell) now spurred me 
 on to follow Lucilla's steps. Froni her dwelling to 
 the church — from thence to the houses of her 
 friends, and, again to her home ; and even, as far as 
 possible, into the circle of knights and ladies which 
 surrounds her, I unWeariedly pursued her. I thus 
 assured myself that no other young knight attended 
 her, and that she had entirely devoted herself to the 
 husband her parents had selected for her, although 
 he was not the one of her heart's choice. This so 
 fully contented me, that I should not have had occa- 
 sion to trouble you at this moment, if Lucilla had 
 not approached me the other day, and whispered in 
 my ear, that I should not provoke her husband, for 
 he was very passionate and bold ; to herself it threat- 
 ened no danger — not the least — because he loved 
 and honored her above all things ; but upon that 
 very account would his anger fall more fearfully 
 upon me. You can now easily understand, my noble 
 comrade, that to preserve my character for contempt 
 of danger, I must now pursue Lucilla's steps more 
 closely than ever, and sing nightly serenades beneath 
 her flowery window till the morning star makes its 
 mirror in the sea. At midnight, Lucilla's husband 
 sets out for Madrid, and after that hour I will care- 
 fully avoid the street in which she dwells ; but until 
 then, as soon as the evening is sufficiently advanced, 
 I will not cease to sing love-romances before bis 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 123 
 
 house. I have learnt that not only he, but also Lu- 
 cilla's brothers have engaged in the quarrel ; and it is 
 this, seiior, which makes me request for a short time 
 the assistance of your good sword." 
 
 Heimbert warmly seized the Spaniard's hand, and 
 said, " To show you, dear sir, how willingly I under- 
 take what you wish, I will meet your confidence with 
 like frankness, and relate a pleasant incident which 
 happened to me in this city, and beg you, after mid- 
 night, to render me a little service. My story is 
 short, and will not detain you longer than we must 
 wait for the twilight to become deep enough to begin 
 your serenade 
 
 " The day after we arrived here, I was amusing 
 myself in one of the beautiful gardens which sur- 
 round us. I have now been long in these southern 
 lands, but I believe the dreams which every night 
 carry me back to my German home are the cause 
 of my finding everything about me here so strange 
 and astonishing still. At all events, when I wake 
 each morning I wonder anew, as if I was just arrived. 
 I was then wandering among the aloes, and under 
 the laurel and oleander trees, as one bewildered. 
 Suddenly I heard a cry near me, and a young lady, 
 dressed in white, flew into my arms and fainted 
 away, while her companions separated in every direc- 
 tion. A soldier has always his senses about him, and 
 I soon perceived a furious bull pursuing the beautiful 
 damsel. Quickly I threw her over a flowery hedge, 
 and sprang after myself, whilst the beast, blind with 
 
124 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 rage, passed us by ; and I could afterwards hear no 
 more of it, than that it had escaped from a neighbor- 
 ing court-yard, where some youths were trying to 
 commence a bull-fight, and had broken furiously into 
 this garden. 
 
 " I was now alone with the senseless lady in my 
 arms; and she was so wondrously beautiful that I 
 have never in my whole life felt happier or sadder 
 than at that moment. I laid her upon the grass, and 
 sprinkled her angel brow with water from a fountain 
 near us. At last she came to herself, and as she 
 opened her lovely eyes, I thought I now knew how 
 the blessed spirits look in heaven. 
 
 " She thanked me with grateful and courteous 
 words, and called me her knight. But I was so en- 
 chanted, I could not utter a word ; and she must 
 almost have thought me dumb. At length my speech 
 returned ; and I ventured to breathe a request — 
 which came from my heart — that the lovely lady 
 would often give me the happiness of seeing her in 
 this garden, for the few weeks I should remain here, 
 till the service of the emperor should drive me forth 
 to the burning sands of Africa. She looked at me, 
 half smiling, half sadly, and murmured, * Yes.' And 
 she has kept her word, and appeared there daily, 
 without our having yet ventured to speak to one 
 another. For though we were sometimes quite 
 alone, I could not do more than enjoy the happiness 
 of walking by her side. Often she has sung to me ; 
 and I have answered her in song. When I yester- 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 125 
 
 day informed her that our departure was so near, I 
 fancied there was a tear in her heavenly eye ; and 
 I must have looked very sorrowful also, for she said, 
 consolingly, 'Ah, pious, childlike warrior! one may 
 confide in you as in an angel. After midnight, be- 
 fore the twilight summons you to embark, I give you 
 leave to say farewell to me in this place. If you 
 could find a faithful friend, whose silence you could 
 depend on, to watch the entrance from the street, it 
 might be as well ; for many soldiers will be at that 
 time returning from their last carouse in the city.* 
 Now God has sent me such a friend ; and I shall go 
 joyfully to the lovely maiden." 
 
 " I wish the service you require had more danger," 
 answered Frederigo, '* that I might better prove to 
 you how faithfully I would serve you with life and 
 limb. But come, noble brother ! the hour of my 
 adventure is arrived." 
 
 Frederigo took a guitar under his arm ; and wrap- 
 ping themselves in their mantles, the young captains 
 hastily made their way to the city. 
 
 The night-violets before Lucilla's window were 
 pouring forth their sweet perfume, when Frederigo, 
 leaning in the angle of an old wide shadowing church 
 opposite, began to tune his guitar. Heimbert placed 
 himself behind a pillar, his drawn sword under his 
 mantle, and his clear blue eyes, like two watching 
 stars, quietly penetrating around. 
 
 Frederigo sang : — 
 
126 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 " Fair in the spring-bright meadows grew 
 
 A little flower in ^lay, 
 And rosy-tinted petals threw 
 A blush upon its snowy hue, 
 
 Beneath the snowy ray. 
 
 "To me, a youth, that little flower 
 My soul's delight became; 
 And often then, in happy hour, 
 I taught my tongue with courteous power 
 Some flattering lay to frame. 
 
 " But ah! from where the floweret stood 
 
 In delicate array, 
 Was I to distant scenes of blood, 
 To foreign lands, o'er tield and flood 
 
 Soon summoned far away. 
 
 ** And now I am returned again, 
 I seek my lovely flower: 
 But all my hopeful search is vain; 
 Transplanted from its grassy plain, 
 My flower is free no more. 
 
 " A gardener has the treasure found, 
 And claimed it for his prize: 
 Now cherished in a guarded bound. 
 And hedged with golden lattice round, 
 She is denied mine eyes. 
 
 " His lattice he may freely twine. 
 
 His jealous bars I grant: 
 But all I need not yet resign; 
 For still this pure delight is mine, 
 
 Her wondrous praise to chant. 
 
 ** And, wandering in the coolness there, 
 I'll touch my cithern's string. 
 
 Still celebrate the floweret fair; 
 
 While e'en the gardener shall not dare 
 Forbid my voice to sing." 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 12T 
 
 " That remains to be proved, senor," said a man, 
 stepping close, and, as he thought, unobserved, to 
 Frederigo. He had been apprised of the stranger's 
 approach by a signal from his watchful friend, and 
 answered with the greatest coolness : " If you w'.sh 
 to commence a suit with my guitar, senor, you will 
 find she has a tongue of steel, which has already on 
 many occasions done her excellent service. With 
 which do you wish to speak ? — with the guitar, or 
 with the advocate ? " 
 
 While the stranger hesitated what to reply to this 
 bold speech, Heimbert perceived two mantled figures 
 draw near, and remain standing a few steps from him 
 — one behind the otlier, so as to cut off Frederigo's 
 flight, if he had intended to escape. 
 
 "I believe, dear sirs," said Sir Heimbert, in a 
 friendly manner, " we are here on the same errand : 
 to take care that no one intrudes upon the confer- 
 ence of yonder knights. At least, that is my busi- 
 ness. And I can assure you, that any one who 
 attempts to interfere with their affair shall receive 
 my dagger in his heart. You see we shall best fulfill 
 our duty by remaining still." The two gentlemen 
 bowed courteously, and were silent. 
 
 So astonishing was the quiet self-possession with 
 which the two soldiers carried on their affair, that 
 their three companions were at a loss to imagine how 
 they would commence their quarrel. At last Fred- 
 erigo again touched his guitar, and appeared about 
 ro begin another song. At this mark of contempt 
 
128 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 and unconsciousness of danger, Lucilla's husband 
 (for it was he who had taken his stand by Don Fred- 
 erigo) was so enraged that he, without further delay, 
 snatched his sword from its sheath, and called out in 
 a voice of suppressed rage : " Draw ! or I shall stab 
 you ! " 
 
 " Very willingly, senor," answered Frederigo, com- 
 posedly. " You have no need to threaten me, and 
 might quite as well have spoken quietly." So saying, 
 he laid his guitar in a niche in the church wall, seized 
 his weapon, and, bowing gracefully to his adversary, 
 the fight began. 
 
 For some time the two figures by Heimbert's side, 
 who were Lucilla's brothers, remained quite quiet ; 
 but as Frederigo began to get the better of their 
 brother-in-law, they made a movement, as if they 
 would take part in the fight. At this, Heimbert made 
 his good sword gleam in the moonlight, and said : 
 " Dear sirs, you surely would not wish me to put my 
 threat into execution. Pray do not oblige me to do 
 so ; for if it cannot be otherwise, doubt not I shall 
 keep my word." The two young men remained from 
 this time quite motionless, surprised at the cheerful, 
 truehearted friendliness of all Heimbert's words. 
 
 Meanwhile had Frederigo, though pressing har 1 
 upon his adversary, yet carefully avoided wounding; 
 him ; and at last, by a dexterous movement, he 
 wrested his weapon from him ; so that Lucilla's hus- 
 band, in the surprise and shock of this unexpected 
 advantage, retreated a few steps. Frederigo threw 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 129 
 
 the sword in the air, and adroitly catching it near 
 the point as it descended, said, as he offered the or- 
 namented hilt to his opponent : " Take it, seiior ; 
 and I hope this matter is ended ; and you now un- 
 derstand that I am only here to show I fear no dan- 
 ger in the world. The bell tolls twelve from the old 
 dome ; and I give you my word of honor, as a knight 
 and a soldier, that neither is Dona Lucilla pleased 
 with my attentions, nor should I, if I lived a hundred 
 years in Malaga, continue to serenade her. So pur- 
 sue your journey in peace ; and farewell." Then he 
 once more greeted his conquered adversary with 
 solemn, stern courtesy, and withdrew Heimbert 
 followed him^ after he had cordially shaken hands 
 with the two brothers, saying : " Never let it again 
 enter your heads, dear young gentlemen, to interfere 
 in an honorable fight. ^ Do you understand me ? " 
 
 He soon overtook his companion, and walked by 
 his side in silence — his heart beating with joy, sor- 
 row, and expectation Don Frederigo Mendez was 
 also silent, till Heimbert stopped before a garden- 
 door overhung with fruitful orange-boughs, and 
 pointing to a pomegranate-tree laden with fruit, 
 said : " We are at the place, dear comrade." Then the 
 Spaniard appeared about to ask a question ; but he 
 checked himself, and merely said : " Understand me ; 
 you have my word of honor to protect this entrance 
 for you till the hour of dawn." He began walking 
 to and fro before the gate with drawn sword, like a 
 sentinel ; whilst Heimbert, trembling with joy, has- 
 tened through the dark groves within. 
 
CHAPTER 11. 
 
 He had not far to seek the lovely star which he 
 BO deeply felt was the one destined to shed its light 
 over his whole life. The full moon revealed to him 
 the slender form of the lady walking near the en- 
 trance. She wept softly, and yet smiled with such 
 composure, that her tears seemed rather to resemble 
 a decoration of pearls than a veil of sorrow. 
 
 The lovers wandered silently beside one another 
 through the flowery pathway, half in sorrow, half in 
 joy; while sometimes the, night air touched the 
 guitar on the lady's arm so lightly, that a slight mur- 
 mur blended with the song of the nightingale ; or 
 her delicate fingers on the strings awoke a few fleet- 
 ing chords, and the shooting stars seemed as if they 
 would pursue the retreating tones of the guitar. 
 
 Oh how truly blessed was this hour to the youth 
 and maiden ! for now neither rash wishes nor impure 
 desires had any place in their minds. They walked 
 side by side, satisfied that the good God had granted 
 them this happiness ; and so little desiring anything 
 further, that the fleeting and perishable nature of 
 the present floated away in the background of their 
 thoughts. In the midst of this beautiful garden they 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 131 
 
 found a large open lawn, ornamented with statues, 
 and surrounding; a fountain. On the edge of this the 
 lovers sat down, alternately fixing their eyes on the 
 water sparkling in the moonlight and on one another. 
 The maiden touched her guitar ; and Heimbert, 
 compelled by some irresistible impulse, sang the fol« 
 lowing; words to it : — 
 
 " A sweet, sweet life have I, 
 But cannot name its charm; 
 0, would it teach me consciously, 
 
 That so my hps, in calm, 
 Soft, gentle songs, should ever praise 
 What my fond spirit endless says.*' 
 
 He suddenly stopped, and blushed, for he feared 
 he had said too much. The lady blushed also ; and 
 after playing some time, half-abstractedly, on the 
 strings, she sang as if still in a dream : — 
 
 " Who beside the youth is singing. 
 Seated on the tender grass, 
 Where the moon her light is flinging, 
 And the sparkling waters pass? 
 
 " Shall the maid reveal her name, 
 When, though still unknown it be, 
 Glows her trembling cheek with shame, 
 And her heart beats anxiougly ? 
 
 " First let the knight be nam'd — 'tis he 
 Who, in his bright array. 
 With Spaniards stood triumphantly 
 Upon the glorious day. 
 
 *■ Who before Pavia bravely fought, 
 A bov of sixteen vears : 
 
132 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 Pride to his country hath he brought, 
 And to his foemen tears. 
 
 "Heimbert is his noble name; 
 Victor he in many a fight; 
 Doiia Clara feels no shame, 
 Sitting by so biave a knight. 
 
 " In her name's soft sound revealing, 
 Seated on the tender grass. 
 Where the moonbeams' light is stealing, 
 And the sparkling waters pass." 
 
 ** Ah," said Heimbert, blushing more deeply than 
 before, " 0, Dona Clara, that affair at Pavia was 
 a very insignificant feat of arms ; and if it had de- 
 served a reward, what could better serve as one than 
 the surpassing bliss which I now enjoy ? Now I 
 know what your name is, and dare address you by 
 it, you angel bright, Dona Clara ! you blessed and 
 beautiful Dona Clara ! Only tell me who has made 
 so favorable a report of my youthful deeds, that I 
 may ever think of him gratefully." 
 
 " Can the noble Heimbert of Waldhausen sup- 
 pose," replied Clara, that the warriors of Spain sent 
 no sons where he stood in battle ? You have surely 
 seen them near you in the fight ; and how, then, can 
 ij; surprise you that your glories are known here ? " 
 
 They now heard the silvery tones of a little bell 
 from the neighboring palace, and Clara whispered, 
 ^' It is time to part : adieu, my hero ! " And she 
 smiled on Heimbert through her tears ; and as she 
 bent towards him, he almost fancied he felt a gentle 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 133 
 
 kiss breathed on his lips. When he looked around, 
 Clara had disappeared : the morning clouds began 
 to assume the rosy tint of dawn, and he rejoined his 
 watchful friend at the entrance-door, with a whole 
 heaven of love's proud happiness in his heart. 
 
 " Stand ! no further ! " exclaimed Frederigo, as 
 Heimbert appeared from the garden, holding, at the 
 sanre time, his drawn sword towards him. 
 
 " Oh, you are mistaken, my good comrade," said the 
 German, laughing; "it is I whom you see before 
 you." 
 
 " Don't imagine, Sir Heimbert of Waldhausen, 
 that I mistake you," said Frederigo ; " but I have 
 kept my word, and honorably fulfilled my promise to 
 be your guard in this place ; and now I demand of 
 you to draw without further delay, and fight for your 
 life." 
 
 " Alas ! " sighed Heimbert, " I have often heard 
 that there are witches in these southern lands, who 
 have the power to deprive people of their senses 
 with their magic arts and charms, but till to-day I 
 have never experienced anything of the sort. Think 
 better of it, my dear comrade, and go with me to the 
 shore." 
 
 Frederigo smiled scornfully, and answered, " Leave 
 off your silly nonsense ; and if one must explain 
 everything to you, word by word, before you under- 
 stand it, I will tell you that the lady you came to 
 meet in this my garden. Dona Clara Mendez, is my 
 only and dearest sister. Now lose no further timC; 
 and draw, seSor." 
 
134 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 " God forbid ! " exclaimed the German, without 
 touching his weapon : " you shall be my brother-in- 
 law, Frederigo, and not my murderer, still less will 
 I be yours." 
 
 Frederigo shook his head angrily, and advanced 
 with measured steps towards his companion. Heim- 
 bert, however, continued motionless, and said, " No, 
 Frederigo, I can never do you any harm ; for* not 
 only do I love your sister, but you must certainly be 
 tbe person who has spoken to her so honorably of 
 my battle-deeds in Italy." 
 
 " If I did so," answered Frederigo, " I was a fool. 
 But thou, thou weak coward, draw thy sword, or " — 
 
 Frederigo had hardly spoken these words, before 
 Heimbert, glowing with indignation, snatched his 
 sword from its sheath, exclaiming, " This the devil 
 himself could not bear ! " And now the two young 
 captains fiercely closed upon one another. 
 
 This was quite another battle to that which Fred- 
 erigo had previously fought with Lucilla's husband. 
 The two soldiers well understood their weapons, and 
 boldly strove with one another ; the light gleamed 
 from their swords, as first one and then the other 
 made a deadly thrust with the speed of lightning, 
 which his adversary as speedily turned aside. Firmly 
 they planted the left foot, as if rooted in the earth, 
 the right advanced one step to make each onset, and 
 then quickly withdrawn to recover their footing. 
 From the resolution and quiet self-possession with 
 frhich both combatants fought, it was easy to see that 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 135 
 
 one or other of them must find his grave beneath 
 the oran^jje-trees, whose overhanging boughs were 
 now ilhiminated by the glow of morning. This 
 would certainly have been the case, had not the 
 report of a cannon from the harbor reached them. 
 The combatants stopped as at an understood 
 signal, and silently counted till thirty, when a second 
 gun was heard. '• That is the signal for embarka- 
 tion, seiior," said Frederigo ; '' we are now in the 
 emperor's service, and all fighting is unlawful which 
 is not against the foes of Charles the Fifth. We 
 must defer our combat until the termination of the 
 war." 
 
 • The two captains hastened to the shore, and were 
 engaged in the embarkation of their troops. The 
 sun, rising from the sea, shone at once on the ships 
 and the water. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 The voyagers had for some time to contend with 
 contrary winds ; and when at last the coast of Bar- 
 bary became visible, the evening closed so deeply 
 over the sea that no pilot in the little squadron 
 would venture nearer land, and they anchored in the 
 calm sea. They crossed themselves, and anxiously 
 waited for the morning ; while the soldiers, full of« 
 hope and anticipation of honor, assembled in groups 
 upon the decks, straining their eyes to see the long- 
 desired scene of their glory. 
 
 Meanwhile the heavy firing of besiegers and be- 
 sieged thundered imceasingly from the fortress of 
 Goletta ; and as the heavy clouds of night thickened 
 over the shore, the flames of the burning houses in 
 the city became more visible, and the course of the 
 fiery shots could be distinctly traced as they crossed 
 each other in their path of frightful devastation. It 
 was evident that the Mussulmans had sallied forth, 
 for a sharp fire of musketry was suddenly heard 
 amidst the roaring of the cannon. The fiorht now 
 approached the trenches of the Christians; and from 
 the ships they could hardly see whether the besiegers 
 were in danger or not. At last they perceived that 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 137 
 
 the Turks were driven back into the fortress : thither 
 the Christian host pursued them, and loud shouts of 
 victory were heard from the Spanish camp — Goletta 
 was taken ! 
 
 The troops on board the ships were composed of 
 young courageous men ; and how their hearts glowed 
 and beat high at this glorious spectacle need not be 
 detailed to those who carry a brave heart in their 
 own bosoms ; while to any other, all description 
 would be thrown away. 
 
 Heimbert and Frederigo stood near one another. 
 " I know not," said the latter, " what it is which tells 
 me that to-morrow I must plant my standard upon 
 yonder height, which is so brightly lighted up by the 
 burning brands in Goletta." — " That is just my feel- 
 ing," said Heimbert. Then the two captains were 
 silent, and turned angrily away. 
 
 The wished-for morning at last arose, the ships 
 neared the shore, and the troops landed, while an 
 officer was immediately dispatched to apprise the 
 mighty general Alva of the arrival of this reinforce- 
 ment. The soldiers hastily ranged themselves on 
 the beach, and were soon in battle-order, to await the 
 inspection of their great leader. 
 
 Clouds of dust appeared in the gray twilight, and 
 the officer, hastening back, announced the approach 
 of the general. And because, in the language of 
 Castile, Alva signifies " morning," the Spaniards 
 raised a shout of triumph at the happy omen they 
 perceived in the first beams of the rising sun and 
 
138 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 the head of the general's staff becoming visible to- 
 gether. 
 
 Alva's stern pale face soon appeared : he was 
 mounted upon a large Andalusian charger of the 
 deepest black, and galloped up and down the lines 
 once ; then, halting in the middle, looked over the 
 ranks with a scrutinizing eye, and said, with evident 
 satisfaction, "You pass muster well. 'Tis as it 
 should be. I like to see you in such order, and can 
 perceive that, notwithstanding your youth, you are 
 tried soldiers. We will first hold a review, and then 
 I will lead you to something more interesting." 
 
 He dismounted, and, walking to the right wing, 
 began to inspect one troop after another in the clos- 
 est manner, summoning each captain to his side, 
 and exacting from him an account of the most mi- 
 nute particulars. Sometimes a cannon-ball from the 
 fortress whistled over the heads of the soldiers ; and 
 then Alva would stand still, and closely observe their 
 countenances. When he saw that no eye moved, a 
 contented smile spread itself over his solemn face. 
 
 When he had thus examined both divisions, he 
 remounted his horse, and again placed himself in the 
 middle. Stroking his long beard, he said, " You are 
 in such good order, soldiers, that you shall take your 
 part in the glorious day which now dawns for our 
 Christian Armada. We will take Barbarossa ! Do 
 you hear the drums and fifes in the camp ? and see 
 him sally forth to meet the emperor ? Yonder is the 
 place for you ! " 
 
THE TAVO CAPTAINS. 139 
 
 " Vivat Carolus Quintiis ! " resounded through the 
 ranks. Alva beckoned the captains to him, and ap- 
 pointed to each his duty. He was used to mingle 
 the German and Spanish troops to^rether, that emu- 
 lation might increase their courage ; and on the 
 present occasion it happened that Heimbert ard 
 Frederigo were commanded to storm the height 
 which, now illumined by the beams of morning, 
 they recognized as the very same that had appeared 
 so inviting the night before. 
 
 The cannons roared, and the trumpets sounded, 
 the colors waved proudly in the breeze, and the 
 leaders gave the word " March ! " when the troops 
 rushed on all sides to the battle. 
 
 Thrice had Frederigo and Heimbert almost forced 
 their way through a breach in the wall of the fortifi- 
 cations on the height, and thrice were they repulsed, 
 by the fierce resistance of the Turks, into the valley 
 below. The Mussulmans shouted after the retreating 
 foe, clashed their weapons furiously together, and 
 contemptuously laughing, asked whether any one 
 would again venture to give heart and brain to the 
 cimeter, and his body to the rolling stones. The 
 two captains, gnashing their teeth with fury, rear- 
 ranged their ranks, in order to fill the places of the 
 slain and mortally wounded in these three fruitless 
 jittacks. Meanwhile a murmur ran through the 
 Christian host, that a witch fought for the enemy, 
 and helped them to conquer. 
 
 At this moment Duke Alva rode up to them ; he 
 
140 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 looked sharply at the breach they had made. " Could 
 you not break through the foe here ? " said he, shak- 
 ing his head. " This surprises me ; for from you two 
 youths, and your troops, I expected better things." 
 
 " Do you hear, do you hear that ? " cried the cap- 
 tains, pacing through their lines. 
 
 The soldiers shouted loudly, and demanded to be 
 led once more against the enemy. Even those mor- 
 tally wounded exerted their last breath to cry, " For- 
 ward, comrades ! " 
 
 Swift as an arrow had the great Alva leapt from 
 his horse, and, seizing a partisan from the stiff hand 
 of one of the slain, he placed himself before them, 
 and cried, " I will have part in your glory ! In the 
 name of God and of the Blessed Virgin, forward, 
 my children ! " 
 
 They rushed joyfully up the hill, all hearts reani- 
 mated, and raising their .war-cry to. heaven, while a 
 few already cried, " Victoria ! Victoria ! " and the 
 Mussulmans seemed to give way. Then, like the 
 vision of an avenging angel, a maiden, dressed in 
 richly embroidered garments of purple and gold, 
 appeared in the Turkish ranks ; and those who were 
 terrified before, now shouted, " Allah ! " and accom- 
 panied that name with " Zelinda, Zelinda ! " The 
 maiden drew a small box from beneath her arm ; 
 and, after opening and breathing into it, threw it 
 among the Christian army. A wild explosion from 
 this destructive engine scattered through the host a 
 whole fire of rockets, grenades, and other fearful 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 141 
 
 messengers of death. The astounded troops held 
 on through the storm. " On, on ! " cried Alva ; and 
 " On ! " echoed the two captains. But at that mo- 
 ment, a flaming bolt fastened on the duke's high- 
 plumed cap, and burnt and crackled about his head, 
 so that the general fell fainting down the height. 
 Then the Spanish and German troops were gener- 
 ally routed, and fled hurriedly from the fearful height 
 before the storm. The Mussulmans again shouted, 
 and Zelinda's beauty shone over the conquering host 
 like a baleful star. 
 
 When Alva opened his eyes, he saw Heimbert 
 standing over him, his clothes, face, and arms 
 scorched by the fire he had with much difficulty ex- 
 tinguished on his commander's head, when a second 
 body of flame rolled down the height in the same 
 manner. The duke was thanking the youth for his 
 preservation, when some soldiers came by, who told 
 him the Saracen power had commenced an attack 
 on the opposite wing of the army. Alva threw him 
 self on the first horse they brought him, and without 
 fosing a word, dashed to the place where the threat- 
 ened danger called him. 
 
 Frederigo's glowing eye was fixed on the rampart 
 where the brilliant lady stood, with her snow-white 
 arm extended in the act of hurling a two-edged 
 spear; sometimes encouraging the Mussulmans in 
 Arabic, then again speaking scornfully to the Chris- 
 tians in Spanish. Don Frederigo exclaimed, " O 
 foolish lady ! she thinks to daunt me, and yet places 
 
142 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 herself before me, — so tempting, so irresistible a 
 war prize ! " 
 
 And, as if magic wings had grown from his shoul- 
 ders, he began to fly up the height with such swift- 
 ness, that Alva's storm-flight from thence appeared 
 a lazy snail's pace. Before any one could see how, he 
 had gained the height, and ^Testing spear and shield 
 from the lady, he seized her in his arms, and at- 
 tempted to bear her away as his prize, while Zelinda 
 clung with both hands to the palisade in anxious 
 despair. Her cries for help were unavailing ; partly 
 because the Turks were stupefied with astonishment 
 to see the magic power of the lady overcome by the 
 almost magic deed of the youth, and partly because 
 the faithful Heimbert, immediately on perceiving his 
 companion's enterprise, had led both troops to his 
 support, and now stood by his side, fighting hand to 
 hand with the besieged. This time the fury of the 
 Mussulmans, overcome as they were by surprise and 
 superstition, availed nothing against the prowess of 
 the Christian soldiers. 
 
 The Spaniards and Germans broke through the 
 enemy, assisted by fresh squadrons of their army. 
 The Mohammedans fled with frightful howling ; and 
 the banner of the Holy German Empire, and that of 
 the imperial house of Castile, united by joyful Victo- 
 rias, waved over the glorious battle-field before the 
 walls of Tunis. 
 
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 S^ 
 
 
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 ^ 
 
 ^^m 
 
 
 
 ^^ 
 
 
 ^^S 
 
 -s 
 
 ^gfJ^M^ 
 
 
 
 sj^WC/H 
 
 
 "^^^y^ j^^!' 
 
 
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 Is^^^^ut 
 
 ^ 
 
 f^^ 
 
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 ^^^gH 
 
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 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Ze^inda had escaped from Frederigo's arms in 
 the confusion of the conquerors and conquered, and 
 flew so swiftly through the well-known ground, that, 
 though love and desire added wings to his feet, she 
 was soon out of sight. This kindle(3 the fury of the 
 enchanted Spaniard so much the more against the 
 infidel foe. Wherever they collected their scattered 
 force to withstand the progress of the Christians, he 
 hastened with the troops, which ranged themselves 
 around him as about a victorious banner ; while 
 Heimbert was ever at his side like a faithful shield, 
 often warding off from his friend dangers which were 
 unperceived by the infatuated youth. 
 
 They learnt that Barbarossa had fled the day 
 before, and pushed onwards with little opposition 
 through the gates of Tunis. 
 
 Frederigo's and Heimbert's troops were always 
 together. 
 
 Thick clouds of smoke began to roll through the 
 streets, and the soldiers had frequently to shake off 
 the sparks and burning fragments which fell upon 
 their coats and richly plumed helmets. " Sup- 
 pose the enemy has se'; fire to the powder-magazine 
 
144 . THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 in despair ! " exclaimed the thoughtful Heimbert 
 And Frederigo, to whom a word or sign was suffi- 
 cient, hastened to the spot from whence the smoke 
 proceeded. Their troops pressed closely after them. 
 
 A sudden turn in the street brought them upon a 
 magnificent palace, out of whose beautifully orna- 
 mented windows the flames were already bursting. 
 Tiieir fitful splendor seemed to make them like 
 death -torches, prepared to do honor to the costly 
 building in the hour of its ruin, as they illuminated 
 first one part and then another of the massy edifice, 
 and then sunk- down again into fearful darkness of 
 smoke and vapor. 
 
 And like a faultless statue, the crowning glory of 
 the whole, Zelinda stood upon a giddy projection, 
 wreathed around with gleaming tongues of flame, 
 calling upon the faithful to assist her in securing from 
 destruction the wisdom of many centuries, which 
 was laid up in this building. The pinnacle tottered 
 with the effects of the fire beneath, and a few stones 
 gave way. Frederigo anxiously cried to the en- 
 dangered lady ; and hardly had she withdrawn her 
 lovely foot, when the whole came crashing down 
 on the pavement. Zelinda disappeared within the 
 burning palace, and Frederigo rushed up the marble 
 steps ; Heimbert, his ever-faithful friend, immedi- 
 ately following. 
 
 Their swift feet led them into a vast saloon, where 
 they saw high arches over their heads, and a laby- 
 rinth of chambers opening one into another around 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 145 
 
 them. The walls were all ranged with splendid 
 shelves, in which were stored rolls of parchment, 
 papyrus, and palm-leaf, inscribed with the long- 
 forgotten characters of past ages, which had now 
 reached the end of their designs ; for the flames 
 were creeping in destruction among them, and 
 stretched their serpent-like heads from one repos- 
 itory of learning to another ; while the Spanish sol- 
 diers, who had hoped for plunder, were enraged at 
 finding this mighty building filled only with these 
 parchments, and the more so, because they discerned 
 in them nothing but what appeared to them magical 
 characters. 
 
 Frederigo flew, as in a dream, through the strange 
 halls, now half consumed, ever calling Zelinda ; not 
 thinking or caring for any thing but his enchanting 
 beauty. Long did Heimbert remain at his side, till 
 they reached a cedar staircase which led to a higher 
 story, where Frederigo listened a moment, and then 
 said : " She is speaking there aloud ! she needs my 
 help ! " and sprung up the glowing steps. Heimbert 
 hesitated an instant, for he saw them giving way, 
 and thought to warn his companion ; but at that 
 moment they broke down, and left nothing but a 
 fiery path. Still he coukl see that Frederigo had 
 clung to an iron grating, over which he soon swung 
 himself. The way was inaccessible to Heimbert: 
 quickly recollecting himself, he lost no time in idly 
 gazing, but hastily sought another flight of stairs in 
 
 10 
 
146 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 the neighboring halls, which would conduct him to 
 his friend. 
 
 Meanwhile Frederigo, following the enchanting 
 voice, had reached a gallery, in the midst of which 
 was a fearful abyss of flames, while the pillars on 
 each side were yet standing. He soon perceived the 
 lovely figure of Zelinda, who clung to a pillar with 
 one hand, while with the other she threatened some 
 Spanish soldiers, who seemed every moment about 
 to seize her, and already had her delicate foot ad- 
 vanced to the edge of the glowing gulf. It was im- 
 possible for Frederigo to join her, for the breadth 
 of the separating flames was far too great to spring 
 across. Trembling lest his voice should make the 
 maiden, through either terror or anger, precipitate 
 herself into the abyss, he spoke quite softly over the 
 fiery grave : " Ah, Zelinda ! have no such frightful 
 thoughts ; your preserver is here ! " The maiden 
 bowed her queenly head. And when Frederigo saw 
 her so calm and composed, he cried with all the 
 thunder of a warriors voice, " Back ! you rash plun- 
 derers! whoever advances one step nearer to that 
 lady, shall feel the weight of my anger ! " They 
 started, and appeared willing to retire, till one among 
 them said, " The knight can do us no harm — the 
 gulf is a little too broad for that ; and as for the 
 lady's throwing herself in, it is evident that the young 
 knight is her lover ; and whoever has a lover is not 
 so inclined to throw herself away." At this they 
 laughed, and again advanced. Zelinda neared the 
 
THE V viNS 147 
 
 flaming edge ; but Frederiga with the fury of a lion, 
 had torn his tt\rget from his arm, and now flung it 
 across with so sure an aim, that the rash leader fell 
 senseless to the gnnrnd. The rest again stood still, 
 ** Away with you ! ** cried Frederigo» authoritatively, 
 " or my dagger shall strike the next as surely ; nor 
 will I ever rest till I have found you out, and made 
 you feel the lorce of my vengeance,** The dagger 
 gleamed in the youth's hand, and yet more fearfully 
 gleamed the rag^ in his eyes. The soldiers fled. 
 Then Zeliuda bowed courteously to her preserver; 
 and taking a roll of palm-leaves which lay at her 
 feet, she hastily disappeared at a side door of the 
 gallery. In vain did Frcderigo seek her in the burn- 
 ing palace. 
 
 The great Alva held a council with his officers in 
 an open place in the midst of the conquered city, 
 and, by means of an interpreter, questioned the 
 Moorish prisoners what had become of the beautiful 
 enchantress who had been seen encouraging them on 
 the walls, and who, he said, was the most lovely sor- 
 ceress the world ever si\w. Nothing could be gained 
 lh>m tlie answers; for though all knew her to be 
 a noble lady, well vereed in niagic lore, none seemed 
 able to tell fron\ whence she had entered Timis, or 
 whither she had now fled. At last, when tliey had be- 
 gun to think their ignorance was the pretense of ob- 
 stinacy, an old dervish, who had been hitherto unno- 
 ticed, pressed forward, and said, with a scornful smile, 
 ** Whoever wishes to seek the lady, the way is open 
 
148 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 for him. I will not conceal what I know of her 
 destination ; and I do know something. Only you 
 must first promise me I shall not be compelled to 
 guide any one to her, or my lips shall remain closed 
 forever ; and you may do what you will with me." 
 He looked like one who would keep his word ; and 
 Alva, who was pleased with the man's resolute spirit 
 (so akin to his own), gave him the desired assurance. 
 The dervish began his relation. 
 
 He was once, he said, wandering in the endless 
 desert of Sahara — perhaps from empty curiosity, and 
 perhaps for a better reason. He lost his way ; and 
 at last, when wearied to death, he reached one of 
 those fruit-bearing islands which they call an oasis. 
 Now followed a description of the things he saw 
 there, clothed in all the warmth of oriental imagery ; 
 so that the hearts of his hearers sometimes melted 
 within them, and sometimes their hair stood on end 
 at the horrors he related ; though, from the strange 
 pronunciation of the speaker, and from his hurried 
 way of speaking, they could hardly understand half 
 he said. The end of all was, that Zelinda dwelt 
 upon this blooming island, surrounded on all sides 
 by the pathless desert, and protected by magic ter- 
 rors. On her way thither, as the old dervish very 
 well knew, she had left the city half an hour before. 
 The contemptuous words with which he closed his 
 speech showed plainly that he desired nothing more 
 than that some Christian would undertake the jour 
 ney, which would inevitably lead him to destruction. 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 149 
 
 At the same time he solemnly affirmed he had ut- 
 tered nothing but undoubted truth, as a man would 
 do who knows that things are just as he related 
 them. Thoughtful and astonished were the circle of 
 officers around him. 
 
 Heimbert had just joined the party, after seeking 
 his friend in the burning palace, and collecting and 
 ai ranging their troops in such a manner as to pre- 
 vent the possibility of any surprise from the robber- 
 hordes. He now advanced before Alva, and humbly 
 bowed. 
 
 "What wilt thou, my young hero?" said Alva, 
 greeting the young captain in the most friendly man- 
 ner. " I know your smiling, blooming countenance 
 well. The last time I saw you, you stood like a pro- 
 tecting angel over me. I am so sure that you can 
 make no request but what is knightly and honorable, 
 that I grant it, whatever it may be." 
 
 " My gracious general," said Heimbert, whose 
 cheeks glowed at this praise, " if I may venture to 
 ask a favor, it is, that you will give me permission 
 to follow the lady Zelinda in the way this strange 
 dervish has pointed out." 
 
 The great general bowed assentingly, and added ; 
 " To a more noble knight could not this honorable 
 adventure be consigned." 
 
 " I do not know that," said an angry voice in the 
 crowd ; " but this I do know, that to me, above all 
 Dtlier men, this adventure belongs, as a reward for 
 the capture of Tunis. For who was the first on the 
 beight and in the city ? " 
 
150 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 " That was Don Frederigo JMendez," said Ileiin 
 bert, taking the speaker by the hand, and leading 
 him before Alva. " In his favor I will willingly re- 
 sign my reward ; for he has done the emperor and 
 the army better service than I have." 
 
 " Neither of you shall lose his reward," said Alva. 
 "Each has now permission to seek the maiden in 
 whatever way he thinks best." 
 
 Swift as lightning the two young captains escaped 
 from the circle on opposite sides. 
 

 ^^^^^p 
 
 B 
 
 ^^W^^rmk 
 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Like a vast trackless sea, without one object 
 to break the dreary monotony of its horizon, ever 
 white and ever desolate, the great desert of Sahara 
 stretches itself before the eyes of the unhappy wan- 
 derer who has lost himself in this frightful region. 
 And, in another way, it resembles the ocean. It 
 throws up waves ; and often a burning mist is seen on 
 its surface. Not, indeed, the gentle play of the waves 
 which unite all tlie coasts of the earth ; where each 
 wave, as it rolls onward, brings you a message of 
 love from the far island-kingdoms, and carries your 
 answer with it in a love-flowing dance. These waves 
 are only the wild toying of the hot wind with the 
 faithless dust, which always falls back again upon 
 its joyless plain, and never reaches the solid land, 
 where happy men dwell. It is not the lovely cool 
 sea-breeze in which the friendly fays sport them 
 selves, and form their blooming gardens and stately 
 grottoes : it is the suffocating vapor rebelliously 
 given back to the glowing sun by the unfruitful 
 sands. 
 
 Hither the two captains arrived at the same time, 
 and stood struck with astonishment at the pathless 
 
152 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 chaos before them. Traces of Zelinda, which were 
 not easily hidden, had hitherto compelled them to 
 travel almost always together, however displeased 
 Frederigo might be, and whatever angry glances he 
 cast upon his unwelcome companion. Each had 
 hoped to overtake Zelinda before she reached the 
 desert, well knowing how almost impossible it would 
 be to find her, if she had once entered it. And now 
 they had failed in this, and could obtain no further 
 information from the few yirabs they met, than that 
 there existed a tradition that any one who would 
 travel in a southerly direction, guiding his course by 
 the stars, would, the sages maintained, arrive at a 
 wonderfully blooming oasis, the dwelling of a heav- 
 enly beautiful enchantress. But all this appeared to 
 the speakers to be highly uncertain and mysterious. 
 
 The young men looked troubled; and their horses 
 snorted and started back at the treacherous sand, 
 while even the riders were uneasy and perplexed. 
 Then they sprang from tlieir saddles suddenly, as at 
 some word of command ; and taking the bridles from 
 their horses, and slackenitig the girths, they turned 
 them loose on the plain, to find their way back to 
 the habitation of man. They took some provision 
 from their saddle-bags, placed it on their shoulders, 
 and, casting from their feet their heavy riding-boots, 
 they plunged, like two courageous swimmers, into 
 the endless waste. 
 
 With no otfeer guide than the sun by day, and by 
 night the host of stars, the two captains soon lost 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 153 
 
 sight of one another ; for Frederigo had avoided the 
 object of his displeasure ; while Heimbert, thinking 
 of nothing but the end of his journey, and firmly 
 relying upon God's protection, pursued his course in 
 a due southerly direction. 
 
 The night had many times succeeded the day, 
 when, one evening, Heimbert was quite alone on the 
 endless desert, without one fixed object for his eye to 
 rest upon ; the light flask he carried was empty ; and 
 the evening brought with it, instead of the desired 
 coolness, only suffocating columns of sand; so that the 
 exhausted wanderer was obliged to press his burn- 
 ing face to the scorching plain to escape the death- 
 bringing cloud. Sometimes he thought he heard 
 footsteps near him, and the sound of a wide mantle 
 rustling over him ; but when he raised himself with 
 anxious haste, he only saw what he had already too 
 often seen in the daytime — the wild beasts of the 
 wilderness roaming about the desert in undisturbed 
 freedom. Now it was a frightful camel, then a long- 
 necked ungainly giraffe, or a great ostrich with it> 
 wings outspread. They all appeared to scoff at him 
 and he resolved to open his eyes no more, but rathe) 
 perish, without allowing these hateful and strange 
 creatures to disturb his soul in the hour of death. 
 
 Soon he heard the sound of horse's hoofs and neigh 
 ing, and saw a shadow on the sand, and heard a man's 
 voice close to him. Half unwilling, he yet could 
 not resist raising himself wearily ; when he saw a 
 rider in an Arab's dress on a slender Arabian horse. 
 
164 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 Overcome with joy at the sight of a human being, 
 he exclaimed : " Welcome, man, in this frightful 
 waste! and succor, if thou canst, thy fellow-man, 
 who must otherwise perish with thirst." And then 
 remembering that the tones of his dear German 
 mother-tongue were not intelligible in this joyless 
 land, he repeated these words in that common lan- 
 guage, the lingua Romana, which is universally used 
 by Mohammedans and Christians in this part of the 
 world. 
 
 The Arab was silent some time, and looked with 
 scorn upon his strange discovery. At last he replied 
 in the same language : " I was in Barbarossa's fight, 
 sir knight, as well as you; and if our overthrow 
 affected me bitterly, I now find no little satisfaction 
 at seeing one of our conquerors lying so pitifully 
 before me." 
 
 " Pitifully ! " angrily repeated Ileimbert ; and his 
 wounded feelings of honor for the moment giving 
 him back all his strength, he seized his sword, and 
 stood in battle order. 
 
 " Oh, oh ! " laughed the Arab ; " is the Christian 
 viper so strong ? Then it only remains for me to put 
 spurs to my good steed, and leave thee to perish 
 here, thou lost, creeping worm." 
 
 " Ride where thou list, dog of a heathen ! " retorted 
 Heimbert. " Before I accept a crumb from thee, 1 
 will perish, unless the dear God sends me manna in 
 this wilderness." 
 
 The Arab spurred his fleet horse, and galloped 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 155 
 
 two hundred paces, laughing long and loud. Ho 
 stopped, however, and trotting back to Heimbert, 
 said : " Thou art rather too good a knight to leave 
 to die of hunger and thirst. Have a care, now : my 
 good sabre shall reach thee." 
 
 Heimbert, who had again stretched himself in 
 hopeless despair on the burning sand, was quickly 
 roused by these words to his feet, sword in hand ; 
 and as the Arab's horse flew past him, with a sudden 
 spring the stout German avoided the blow, and par- 
 ried the cut which the rider aimed at him with his 
 Turkish cimeter. 
 
 Repeatedly did the Arab make similar attacks, 
 vainly hoping to give his antagonist the death-blow. 
 At last, overcome by impatience, he came so near, 
 that Heimbert was able to seize him by the girdle 
 and tear him from the fast-galloping horse. With 
 this violent exertion, Heimbert also fell to the 
 ground, but he lay above his adversary ; and holding 
 a dagger he had pulled from his girdle before his 
 face, he said : " Wilt thou have mercy or death ? " 
 
 The Arab closed his eyes before the murderous 
 steel, and answered : " Have pity on me, thou brave 
 warrior ! I surrender to thee." 
 
 Heimbert commanded him to throw away the sa- 
 bre he still held in his right hand. He did so ; and 
 both combatants rose from the ground, to sink again 
 immediately upon the sand ; for the conqueror felt 
 himself far weaker than the conquered. 
 
 The Arab's good horse had returned to his master, 
 
156 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 as is the custom of those noble aniiriaiS, who nevei' 
 forsake even a fallen lord, and now stood behind 
 them, stretching his long slender neck over them 
 with a friendly look. 
 
 " Arab," said Heimbert, with exhausted voice, 
 " take from thy horse what provision thou hast, and 
 place it before me." 
 
 The subdued Arab did humbly what was com- 
 manded him, now submitting to the will of his con- 
 queror, as he had before treated him with revengeful 
 anger. 
 
 After taking some draughts of palm-wine from 
 the skin, Heimbert looked at the youth with new 
 eyes. He partook of some fruits, drank again of 
 the wine, and said, " Have you much further to ride 
 this night, young man ? " 
 
 "Yes, indeed," answ^ered the Arab, sorrowfully. 
 " Upon a very distant oasis dwells my aged father 
 and my blooming bride. Now, even if you leave me 
 my freedom, I must perish in this waste desert 
 before I can reach my lovely home." 
 
 " Is that the oasis," asked Heimbert, " on which 
 the powerful magic lady, Zelindu, dwells ? " 
 
 " Allah forbid ! " exclaimed the Arab, clasping his 
 hands together. " Zelinda's wondrous island receives 
 none but magicians, and lies far to the scorching 
 t>outh ; while our friendly home stretches towards 
 the cooler west." 
 
 " I only asked the question to see if we could be 
 companions by the way," said Heimbert, kindly. 
 
TFIE TWO CAPTAINS. 157 
 
 ^* As that cannot be, we must divide everything ; for 
 I would not have so good a soldier perish with hun- 
 ger and thirst." 
 
 Saying this, the young captain began to divide the 
 fruits and wine into two portions, placing the greater 
 at his left hand, the smaller at his right, and desired 
 the Arab to take the former. He listened with as- 
 tonishment as Heinibert added : " See, good sir, I 
 have either not much fiu'ther to pursue my journey, 
 or I shall die in this desert ; of that I have a strong 
 presentiment. Besides, T cannot carry so much on 
 foot as you can on horseback." 
 
 " Knight ! victorious knight ! " cried the amazed 
 Mussulman, '■ do you give me my horse ? " 
 
 " It would be a sin and shame to deprive so noble 
 a rider of such a faithful beast," replied Heimbert, 
 smiling. " Ride on, in God's name ! and may you 
 safely reach your destination." 
 
 He assisted him to mount ; and just as the Arab 
 was thanking him, he suddenly exclaimed, " The 
 magic lady ! " and, putting spurs to his horse, flew 
 over the dusty plain swift as the wind ; while Heim- 
 bert, on looking round, saw close beside him, in the 
 bright moonlight, a shining figure, which he easily 
 recognized to be Zelinda. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 The lady looked fixedly at the young soldier, and 
 appeared thinking how she should address him, while 
 he, with astonishment at suddenly finding her he had 
 so long sought, was equally at a loss for words. At 
 length she said in Spanish, " Thou wonderful enig- 
 ma, I have been witness to all that has passed be- 
 tween thee and the Arab ; and the affair perplexes 
 my head as a whirlwind. Tell me plainly, that I 
 may know whether thou art a madman or an angel." 
 
 " I am neither one or other, dear lady," answered 
 Heimbert, with his wonted friendliness. " I am only 
 a poor wanderer, who have been obeying one of the 
 commands of his dear Lord Jesus Christ." 
 
 " Sit down," said Zelinda, •' and relate to me the 
 history of thy lord, who must be an unheard-of per- 
 son, if he has such servants as thee. The night is 
 cool and still, and beside me thou hast nothing to 
 fear from the dangers of the waste." 
 
 " Lady," replied Heimbert, smiling, " I am not of 
 a fearful disposition, and when I am speaking of my 
 blessed Lord and Redeemer, I know not the least 
 anxiety." 
 
 So saying, they both sat down on the now cooled 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. If) 9 
 
 sand, and began a wondrous conversation, while the 
 clear moon shone upon them like a magic lamp from 
 the high blue heavens. Heimbert's words, full of 
 love, and truth, and simplicity, sank like soft sun- 
 beams into Zelinda's heart, driving away the unholy 
 magic power which ruled her, and wrestling with 
 that for possession of the noble territory of her soul. 
 When the morning dawned, she said, " ITiou wouldst 
 not be called an angel, but surely thou art one ; for 
 what are the angels but messengers of the most high 
 God?" 
 
 " In that sense," returned Heimbert, " I am con- 
 tent to be so called.* My hope is. to bear His mes- 
 sage at all times ; and if He bestows further grace 
 and strength upon me, it will give me pleasure if you 
 become my companion in this pious work." 
 
 " That is not impossible," said Zelinda, thought- 
 fully. " But first come with me to my island, where 
 thou shalt be entertained as beseems such an ambas- 
 sador, far better than here on the desert sand, with 
 miserable palm-wine, which thou must obtain with 
 difficulty." 
 
 " Pardon me," answered Heimbert ; " it is difficult 
 to refuse a lady any request, but it is unavoidable on 
 this occasion. In your island, many glorious things 
 are brought together by forbidden arts, and their 
 forms are changed from those the Almighty One 
 created. These might dazzle my senses, and in the 
 end enslave them. If you wish to hear more of those 
 best and purest things which I can relate to you, you 
 
160 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 must come out to me on this barren sanf^ The 
 Arab's dates and pahii-wine will suffice for many a 
 day yet." 
 
 " You would do much better to come with me," 
 said Zelinda, shaking her head with a dissatisfied 
 smile. " You were surely neither born nor educated 
 for a hermit, and there is nothing upon my oasis so 
 very mysterious as you suppose. What is there so 
 strange in birds, and beasts, and flowers, being col- 
 lected together from different parts of the world, and 
 perhaps a little changed, so that one partakes of the 
 nature of another, as you must have seen in our 
 Arabian pictures? A moving, changing flower, a 
 bird growing on a branch, a fountain emitting fiery 
 sparks, a singing bough — these truly are not such 
 frightful, hateful things ? " 
 
 " He must avoid temptation, who will not be over- 
 come by it," answered Heimbert, very gravely. " I 
 shall remain in the wilderness : is it your pleasure 
 to visit me here again ? " 
 
 Zelinda looked down, somewhat displeased ; then 
 lowly bending her head, she answered, " Yes ; to- 
 morrow evening I will be here." She turned away, 
 and immediately disappeared in the rising storm- 
 blast of the desert. 
 
 With the return of ever.ing the lovely lady ap- 
 peared, and watched the night through in holy con- 
 verse with the inspired youth, leaving him in the 
 morning humbler, purer, and more pious ; and this 
 went on for several days. " Thy palm-wine and 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 161 
 
 dates must be consumed," said Zeliuda one evening; 
 and placed before Heimbert a flask of rich wine and 
 some costly fruits. He, however, softly put the gifts 
 aside, and answered, " Noble lady, I thank you from 
 my heart, but I fear these have been made by your 
 magic arts ; or could you assure me that they are 
 not, by Him whom you are beginning to know ? " 
 Zelinda's eyes sank in silent confusion, and she took 
 back her gifts. The next evening she brought some 
 similar provisions, and, smiling confidently, gave the 
 desired assurance. Then Heimbert partook of them 
 without scruple ; and henceforth the pupil hospitably 
 provided for the sustenance of her teacher in the 
 wilderness. 
 
 And now, as the knowledge of the truth sank 
 more deeply in Zelinda's soul, so that she often sat 
 till morning listening to the young man with glow- 
 ing cheeks, flowing hair, sparkling eyes, and folded 
 hands, he carefully observed to make her understand 
 that it was on account of his friend he had sought 
 her in this dreary region, and that it was Frederigo's 
 love for her which was the means of the highest 
 good to her soul. She well remembered the hand- 
 some, fearless young captain who had stormed the 
 height and clasped her in his arms, and related to 
 their friend how he had saved her in the burning 
 library. Heimbert had many pleasant things to 
 say of Frederigo ; of his knightly deeds, his serious 
 mind, and of his love to Zelinda, which, since the 
 capture of Tunis, would not be hidden within his 
 U 
 
162 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 troubled breast, but betrayed itself in a thousand 
 ways, sleeping or waking, to the young German. 
 The godly truth, and the image of her loving hero, 
 entered Zelinda's heart together, and both took root 
 there. Heimbert's presence, and the almost adoring 
 admiration with which his pupil regarded him, did 
 not disturb this state of mind ; for from the first 
 moment, his appearance had something too pure and 
 heavenly to allow of any thoughts of earthly love. 
 
 When Heimbert was alone, he often smiled to 
 himself and said in his own beloved German lan- 
 guage, " How delightful it is to be able, consciously, 
 to repay Frederigo the service he did me, uncon- 
 sciously, with his angelic sister ! " Then he would 
 sing such lovely German songs of Clara's beauty and 
 pious grace, as sounded strangely pleasant in the 
 wilderness, and beguiled his long and lonely hours. 
 
 As once Zelinda came in the evening light, her 
 steps airy and graceful, and carrying a basket of food 
 for Heimbert on her lovely head, he smiled and 
 shook his head, saying, " It is quite incomprehensible 
 to me, lovely maiden, why you continue to come to me 
 in this waste. You cannot find pleasure in magic 
 arts, now that the spirit of truth and love dwells 
 within you ; and if you changed all things in your 
 oasis into the natural forms which the merciful God 
 gave them, I could go thither with you, and we should 
 have much more time for holy converse." 
 
 " Sir knight," answered Zelinda, " you speak truly, 
 and I have thought of doing what you sav for many 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 163 
 
 days, but a strange visitor deprives me of the power. 
 The dervish whom you saw in Tunis, is with me ; 
 and because in past days we have performed many 
 magic works together, he thinks to usurp his former 
 authority over me now. He perceives the alteration 
 in me, and on that account is the more importunate." 
 
 " We must either expel or convert him," said 
 Heimbert, girding on his sword, and taking up his 
 shield from the ground. " Lead me, dear lady, to 
 your wonderful island." 
 
 " You avoided it before," answered the astonished 
 damsel, " and it still remains quite unchanged." 
 
 " Formerly it would have been only rashness to 
 venture," returned Heimbert. " You came out to 
 me here, which was better for us both. Now, how- 
 ever, the old serpent might destroy in you the work 
 the Lord has done, and it is therefore a knightly 
 duty to go. In God's name, then, to the work." And 
 they hastened together across the darkening plain to 
 the blooming island. 
 
 Magic airs began to play about their heads, and 
 bright stars sparkled from the waving boughs beside 
 their path. Heimbert fixed his eyes on the ground, 
 and said, " Go before me, lovely lady, and guide me 
 at once to the place where I shall find the dervish, 
 for I will see as little of these distracting magic 
 forms as is possible." 
 
 Zelinda did as he desired ; and so, for the moment, 
 each performed the other's part. The maiden was 
 the guide, while Heimbert folio w^ed, with confiding 
 rriendliness, in the unknown path. 
 
164 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 Branches stooped as if to caress their cheeks 
 wonderful singing-birds grew from the bushes 
 golden and green serpents, with little golden crowns, 
 crept on the velvet-turf, on which Heimbert stead 
 fastly bent his eyes, and brilliant stones gleamed from 
 the moss. When the serpents touched these jewels, 
 they gave forth a silvery sound. The soldier let the 
 serpents creep, and the precious stones sparkle, 
 without caring for anything save to follow hastily the 
 footsteps of his guide. 
 
 " We are at the place," said she, with suppressed 
 voice ; and looking up, he saw a shining grotto of 
 shells, and perceived within a man asleep, clad in a 
 complete suit of gold scale-armor, of the old Nu- 
 midian fashion. 
 
 " Is that also a phantom, in golden scales? " asked 
 Heimbert, smiling. 
 
 " Oh, no," answered Zelinda, very gravely, " it is 
 the dervish himself; and I see, from his having 
 clothed himself in that coat of mail, which has been 
 made invulnerable by being dipped in dragon's 
 blood, that he has, by his magic, made himself aware 
 of our intentions. " 
 
 " What does that signify ? " said Heimbert ; " he 
 must know them at last." And he began to call 
 with cheerful voice, " Awake, old man ! awake ! here 
 is an acquaintance of yours, to whom you must 
 ?peak." 
 
 As the dervish opened his great rolling eyes, all 
 the wondrous things in this magic region began to 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. IB") 
 
 move : the water to dance, the branches to strike 
 one another in wild confusion, and, at the same time, 
 the jewels, and corals, and shells gave forth strange 
 perplexing melodies. 
 
 " Roll and turn, thunder and play, as you will," 
 cried Heimbert, looking steadfastly around him, "you 
 shall not turn me from my good purpose ; and to 
 overpower all this tumult, God has given me a strong 
 far-sounding soldier's voice." Then he turned to the 
 dervish, saying, " It appears, old man, that you al- 
 ready know what has passed between Zelinda and 
 me. If you do not know the whole matter, I will 
 tell you, in a few words, that already she is as good 
 as a Christian, and the bride of a noble Spanish 
 knight. For your own sake, do not put any hin- 
 drance in the way ; but it would be far better for 
 you, if you would also become a Christian. Talk to 
 me of this, and command all these deviltries to cease ; 
 for see, dear sir, our religion speaks of such divine 
 and heavenly things, that one must lay aside all 
 rough and violent passions." 
 
 But the dervish, whose hatred glowed towards all 
 Christians, hardly waited to hear the knight's last 
 words before he pressed upon him with drawn cime- 
 ter. Heimbert put aside his thrust, saying, " Take 
 care of yourself, sir : I have heard that your weapons 
 are charmed ; but that avails nought before my good 
 sword, which has been consecrated in holy places." 
 The dervish recoiled from the sword wildly, but as 
 wildly sprang to the other side of his adversary, 
 
166 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 who only caught the deadly cuts, with his target. 
 Like a golden scaly dragon, the Mohammedan swung 
 himself round Heimbert, with a ferocity which, with 
 his long flowing white beard, had something ghastly 
 and horrible in it. Heimbert was prepared to op- 
 pose him on all sides, only watching carefully for 
 some opening in the scales made by his violent 
 movements. At last it happened as he expected : 
 he saw, between the breast and arm, the d^rk gar- 
 ments of the dervish, and there the German made his 
 deadly thrust. The old man cried, " Allah ! Allah ! " 
 and fell, fearful even in his fall, senseless to the 
 ground. 
 
 " Yet I pity him," sighed Heimbert, leaning on his 
 sword, and looking down on his fallen foe ; " he 
 fought nobly, and in his death he called upon his 
 Allah, whom he believes to be the true God. We 
 must give him honorable burial." He dug a grave 
 with the broad cimeter of his adversary, laid the 
 corpse in it, covering it with turf, and knelt in silent, 
 heartfelt prayer for the soul of the departed. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 When Heimbert rose from his pious duty, his first 
 glance fell on the smiling Zelinda, who stood by his 
 side ; the second, upon the completely changed scene 
 around. Grottoes and caverns had vanished, and 
 with them also the half-terrible, half-charming cari- 
 catures of trees and beasts ; a gentle hillock of the 
 softest green sloped on each side from the point 
 where he stood to the sandy plain. Several little 
 springs of water murmured in refreshing beauty, and 
 date-trees overhung the pleasant spot, all now smil- 
 ing with simple sweet peace in the beams of the ris- 
 ing sun. 
 
 " Lady," said Heimbert to his companion, " you 
 can now feel how immeasurably greater and more 
 beautiful is all that the dear Father of us all has 
 created than any work of man's highest art To as- 
 sist Him in His gracious works has the Heavenly 
 Gardener, in His abundant mercy, granted to us, 
 His beloved children, that we may become thereby 
 better and happier ; but we should be especially 
 careful not to walk in our own rash, willful ways : this 
 it is which drives us a second time from Paradise." 
 
 " It shall not happen again," said Zelinda, humbly 
 
168 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 kneeling before the youth. " Wouldst thou dare, in 
 this desolate region, where we can meet with no 
 priest of our faith, to bestow upon me, who am now 
 changed, without farther delay, the blessing of Holy 
 Baptism ? " 
 
 Heimbert answered, after a tho^ughtful pause, " I 
 hope I may do this : if I am wrong, God will pardon 
 what is surely done in zeal to bring to Him so wor- 
 thy a soul as soon as possible." 
 
 They walked, side by side, to one of the springs of 
 the oasis, silently praying, and their souls filled with 
 peaceful hope. By the time they had reached it, 
 and addressed themselves to the holy work, the sun 
 had risen in glory, as if to confirm and strengthen 
 them in their purpose ; so that their beaming coun- 
 tenances looked joyful and confiding to one another. 
 Heimbert had not thought of what Christian name 
 he would bestow upon his neophyte ; but as he 
 sprinkled the water over her, and saw the desert-sea, 
 so solemn in the glow of morning, he remembered 
 the pious hermit Antonius in his Egyptian waste, 
 and baptized the lovely convert — Antonia. 
 
 They passed the day in holy conversation, and 
 Antonia showed her friend a little cave where she 
 used to keep her provisions, when she first dwelt on 
 this oasis. " For," said she, " the good God is my 
 witness that my motive for coming hither was to be- 
 come better acquainted with Him and His works in 
 solitude, without the least thought of learning magic 
 arts. Then came the dervish tempting me ; and he 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 169 
 
 drew, by his horrible power, the evil spirits of the 
 desert into a league against me, and they allured me 
 to make all the things they showed me either in 
 dreams or awake." 
 
 Heimbert had no scruple to take with him from 
 this store whatever of wine and dried fruits would 
 be useful for their journey. Antonia assured him 
 that the way, which was very well known to her, 
 would lead them in a few days to the fruitful shore 
 of this waterless ocean. With the approach of 
 evening coolness they began their wanderings. 
 
 The travellers had almost traversed this pathless 
 plain, when one day, they saw a wandering figure at 
 a very great distance ; for in the boundless Sahara 
 every object is visible an immense way off, if the 
 whirlwind of the desert raises no sandy columns to 
 intercept the view. This unfortunate man seemed 
 uncertain which way to direct his steps, sometimes 
 taking one direction, and then changing to the op- 
 posite one. An tenia's oriental falcon eyes could 
 discover that it was no Arab, but a man in knightly 
 garb. 
 
 " O dear sister," said Heimbert, with eager joy, 
 " it must be poor Frederigo seeking thee ! For 
 God's sake, let- us hasten, lest he lose us, and per- 
 haps his own life also, in this immeasurable waste." 
 
 They strove with all their power to reach him, but 
 owing to the burning sun (for it was now midday), 
 Antonia could not long support these hasty steps ; 
 ind soon the fearful storm-blast raised the cloud of 
 
170 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 sand, which completely obscured the object of theii 
 search. 
 
 With the rising moon they renewed their pursuit, 
 calling loudly upon Frederigo, and making signal- 
 flags of their white handkerchiefs tied to their walk- 
 ing-staffs ; but all in vain. The object which had 
 disappeared remained invisible. Only a few giraffes 
 sprang timidly before them, and the ostriches 
 crossed their path with winged speed. 
 
 At last, when morning dawned, Antonia stopped, 
 and said, " Thou canst not leave me alone, brother, 
 in this wilderness, and I cannot go one step further. 
 God will protect the noble Frederigo ; for how can 
 a father forsake so excellent a child ? " 
 
 " The pupil shames the tutor," returned Heimbert, 
 his sorrowful face brightening into a smile. " We 
 have done our parts, and may confidently leave the 
 rest to God, hoping He will assist our helplessness." 
 He spread his mantle on the sand, that Antonia 
 might rest more comfortably ; but suddenly looked 
 up, exclaiming, " O God ! there is a man quite 
 buried in the sand ! Oh that he may not be already 
 dead ! " 
 
 Immediately he began to sprinkle wine from their 
 little flask upon his forehead, and to chafe his tem- 
 ples with it. At length he slow^ly opened his eyes 
 and said, " Oh that the morning-dew had not 
 again fallen on me, then I should have perished un- 
 krown and unlamented in this desert, as it must 
 aappen at last ! " With these words he closed his 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 171 
 
 eyes again, like one drunken with sleep ; but Heim- 
 bert unceasingly continued his endeavors to restore 
 him, and after some time the wearied wanderer half 
 raised himself on the sand. 
 
 He looked from Heimbert to his companion, and 
 again at Heimbert, and suddenly exclaimed, gnash- 
 ing his teeth with rage. " It is even so : I shall not 
 perish in the dim obscurity of forgetfulness; I have 
 lived to see the success of niy rivals and my sister's 
 shame ! " He sprang eagerly to his feet and rushed 
 on Heimbert with drawn sword. The German 
 moved neither sword nor arm, but answered, with a 
 friendly voice, " So exhausted as thou art, I cannot 
 possibly take advantage of thee ; besides, I must 
 first place this lady in security." 
 
 Antonia, who had looked at first with much emo- 
 tion on the angry knight, now stepped between the 
 two, and said, " Frederigo, neither misery nor 
 anger can entirely disfigure thee ; but in what has 
 my noble brother offended thee ? " 
 
 " Brother I " repeated Frederigo, with astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 " Or godfather, or confessor," said Heimbert : " call 
 me which you please ; only call this lady no longer 
 Zelinda ; her name is Antonia ; she is a Christian, 
 and thy bride ! " 
 
 Frederigo stood lost in astonishment ; but Heim- 
 bert's true-hearted words and Antonia's lovely 
 blushes interpreted the enigma for him. He sank 
 before the long-cherished image of his lady ; and 
 
172 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 here, in this inhospitable desert, there bloomed to 
 heaven a flower of love, gratitude, and faith. 
 
 The excitement of this overpowering happiness 
 at last gave way to bodily fatigue. Antonia reposed 
 her delicate limbs on the now scorching sand, like a 
 drooping flower, and slept under the protection of 
 her lover and chosen brother. 
 
 " Sleep thou also," said Heimbert softly to Fred- 
 erigo ; " thou must have wandered far, for weariness 
 is stamped upon thine eyelids, while I am quite 
 fresh, and will watch beside thee." 
 
 " Ah, Heimbert," sighed the noble Castilian, " my 
 sister is thine, thou messenger of Heaven, — that is 
 an understood thing ; but for our unfinished quar- 
 rel"— 
 
 " Certainly," interrupted Heimbert, very gravely, 
 " thou must satisfy me for every hasty word when we 
 are again in Spain. But, till then, I beg thou wilt 
 never mention it, for it is no fit topic of conversa- 
 tion." 
 
 Frederigo sorrowfully reposed on the sand, over- 
 powered by long-resisted sleep ; and Heimbert knelt 
 to thank God for so many gracious blessings already 
 bestowed, and for placing so joyful a futuie before 
 him. 
 
 The next day the three travellers reached the 
 border of the desert, and refreshed themselves with 
 a week's rest at a little village hard by ; which, with 
 its shadowing trees and soft green pastures, seemed 
 like a little Paradise compared to the joyless Sahara. 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 173 
 
 Frederigo's condition made this rest particularly 
 necessary ; for he had not once left the desert, and 
 was often compelled to fight with the wandering 
 Arabs for his subsistence, and sometimes he had suf- 
 fered the total want of food and drink. At length 
 he became so perplexed, that the stars no longer suf- 
 ficed to guide him, and he was driven about, sorrow- 
 ful and aimless, like the whirlwind of the desert. 
 
 Even now, when he fell avsleep after the noonday 
 meal, and Antonia and Heimbert watched his slum- 
 bers like two smiling angels, he would suddenly 
 awake in terror, and look round him with horror, till, 
 reassured by their friendly faces, he sunk back again 
 to rest. In answer to the questions they put to him 
 when he was fully awake, he said that, in his wan- 
 derings, nothing had been more horrible to him than 
 the deceitful dreams which sometimes carried him 
 to his own home, sometimes into the merry camp of 
 his comrades, and sometimes even into Zelinda's 
 neighborhood, and doubled, by contrast, the help- 
 less misery of the frightful desert. This it was which 
 always gave to the moment of waking something 
 fearful, and even in sleep he retained a dim con- 
 sciousness of past sufferings. 
 
 " You cannot think, " added he, " what it was to 
 be suddenly banished from the well-known scenes 
 to the endless waste, where, instead of the long-de- 
 sired, enchanting countenance of my beloved, I only 
 saw the long neck of a hateful camel curiously 
 stretched over me, and with yet more hateful timidity 
 springing away as I rose. " 
 
174 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 This, together with other effects of his misfortunes, 
 soon passed away from Frederigo's mind, and they 
 continued their journey to Tunis. Yet the remem- 
 brance of his conduct to Heimbert, and its unavoid- 
 able consequences, spread like a cloud over the 
 noble Spaniard's brow, and softened the natural 
 sternness of his character, so that Antonia could 
 cling more closely to him with her loving heart. 
 
 Tunis, which had been the scene of Zelinda's 
 magic power, and of her zeal against the Christians, 
 now witnessed her solemn baptism in a newly conse- 
 crated edifice; and immediately afterwards the three 
 companions embarked with favorable winds for Ma- 
 laga. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Beside the fountain where she had parted from 
 Heimbert, Dona Clara sat one evening in deep 
 thought. The guitar on her arm gave forth a few- 
 solitary chords, which her delicate hand dreamily 
 enticed from it ; and at last they formed themselves 
 into a melody, while the following "words were mur- 
 mured from her half-opened lips : — 
 
 " Say who, by Tunis' walls afar, 
 Where with grim bands of Paynim might 
 The Spaniard and the German fight,— 
 From lilies dark with gory dew, 
 And roses of death's pallid hue, 
 Say, who hath won the prize of war ? 
 
 " Of Alva ask the tale of fame, 
 
 And he two knights of pride will name : 
 
 One was my brother, tried and brave ; 
 
 One, he to whom m}' heart I gave : 
 
 And fain I hoped, in joyous light. 
 
 To weave their garlands doubly bright. 
 
 " But sadly o'er my eyes and brow 
 A widow's veil falls doubly now ; 
 The knights are gone, and ne'er again 
 Shall they be found 'mid living men. " 
 
 The guitar was silent and soft dew-drops fell from 
 
176 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 her heavenly eyes. Heimbert, who was hidden be- 
 hind the neighboring orange-tree, felt sympathetic 
 tears roll down his cheeks ; and Frederigo, who had 
 led him and Antonia in by the garden-way, would 
 no longer keep the cup of joy from the restored ones, 
 but disclosed himself, with a dear form on either 
 arm, as a messenger from Heaven to his sister. 
 
 But such moments of high, overpowering delight, 
 like the most precious and long-expected heavenly 
 blessings, are better imagined than described. It is 
 only doing an ill service to recount what this one 
 said, and that one did. Picture it then to thyself, 
 dear reader, after thine own fancy, if the two pairs 
 in my story have become dear to thee, and thou art 
 now intimate with them. If this be not the case, 
 my words would be lost upon thee. For those, then, 
 who with hearty pleasure have dwelt on the reunion 
 of sister and lover, I will proceed with increased 
 satisfaction. 
 
 When Heimbert, casting a significant look at 
 Frederigo, wished to retire, after having placed An- 
 tonia in Don a Clara's protection, the noble Spaniard 
 would not permit him. He detained his companion 
 with the most courteous and brotherly kindness, 
 entreating him to remain till the evening banquet, 
 at which many distinguished persons of the .family 
 of Mendez were present. In their presence Fred- 
 erigo declared that the brave Heimbert of Wald- 
 hausen was Dona Clara's bridegroom : at the same 
 time calling them to witness the sealing it with the 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 177 
 
 most solemn words, in order that whatever might 
 afterwards happen, which should seem inimical to 
 their contract, it might yet remain indissoluble. 
 The spectators were somewhat astonished at these 
 strange precautionary measures, though no one op- 
 posed Frederigo's desire, but unhesitatingly gave 
 him their word that they would carry out his wishes. 
 Their ready compliance was greatly caused by Duke 
 Alva's having, during his late sojourn in Malaga, 
 filled the whole city with his praises of the two he- 
 roic young captains. 
 
 "When the generous wines were circulating round 
 the table, Frederigo stepped behind Heimbert's 
 chair, and whispered, " If it please you, senor, the 
 moon is now risen and shining bright as day : I am 
 ready to meet you." Heimbert bowed assentingly, 
 and the youths left the hall, followed by the sweet 
 salutations of their unsuspecting brides. 
 
 As they passed through the blooming gardens, 
 Frederigo said, " Ah ! how happily we might have 
 walked together here, had it not been for my rash- 
 ness ! " 
 
 " Yes, truly," answered Heimbert ; " but as it has 
 happened, and cannot now be otherwise, we will pro- 
 ceed, and only look upon one another as soldiers and 
 noblemen." 
 
 " Even so," replied Frederigo ; and they hastened 
 on to the farthest part of the gardens, where the 
 sound of their clashing arms might not reach the 
 high banqueting halL 
 12 
 
178 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 Silent and inclosed amid dark groves was the 
 chosen spot. No sounds could be heard there from 
 the joyous company, no noise from the populous 
 streets of the city. Only high in heaven the full 
 moon shone down with bright beams upon the sol- 
 emn circle. It was the right place. Both captains 
 drew their shining blades, and stood opposite to one 
 another, ready for the combat ; but before they be- 
 gan, a kindlier feeling drew them to each other ; 
 they lowered their weapons, and embraced in the 
 most brotherly manner, then they tore themselves 
 away, and the fearful fight began. 
 
 They were now no more brothers in arms — no 
 more friends — no more brothers-in-law, who raised 
 the sharp swords against each other. With firm 
 boldness, but with cool collectedness, they fell upon 
 one another, whilst each guarded his own breast at 
 the same time. After a few hot deadly passes, the 
 combatants were compelled to rest, and they re- 
 garded one another with increased love ; each rejoic- 
 ing to find his dear comrade so stout and courageous. 
 Then the fierce strife began anew. 
 
 Heimbert dashed aside Frederigo's sword with 
 his left hand as it was thrust at his side, but the 
 keen edge had penetrated through his leathern 
 glove, and the rosy blood gushed out. 
 
 " Halt ! " cried Frederigo ; and they searched for 
 the wound ; but finding it of no importance, they 
 bound it up, and with undiminished ardor renewed 
 the fight. It was not long before Heimbert's sword 
 
THE TWO CAPTAINS. 179 
 
 pierced Frederigo's shoulder, and the German, con- 
 scious that it had done so, cried, in his turn, " Halt ! '* 
 At first Frederigo would not acknowledge that there 
 w^as a wound ; but when the blood streamed forth, 
 he accepted his friend's assistance. This wound 
 also seeming of no consequence, and the noble 
 Spaniard finding himself strong enough in arm and 
 hand to wield the sword, they pursued the deadly 
 contest. 
 
 Then they heard a garden-door open, and the 
 tread as of a horse from the groves. Both comba- 
 tants stayed their stern work, and turned to the 
 unwelcome visitant. The next moment they saw, 
 through the slender pines, some one approaching 
 whose bearing and dress showed that he was a 
 warrior, mounted on a stately charger ; and Frederigo, 
 as master of the house, said to him, " Sen or, why 
 you have intruded into a strange garden, we will 
 inquire another time. I shall now only beg of you 
 to retire from it at once, and to leave me your name." 
 
 " I shall not retire at present," answered the 
 stranger ; " but my name I will gladly tell you. I 
 am the Duke of Alva." 
 
 At this moment the moonbeams fell upon his 
 Btern, pale face — that dwelling-place of all that was 
 noble, and great, and majestic. The two captains 
 bowed low and sank their arms. 
 
 " I surely know you," said Alva, looking at them 
 fixedly with his dark eyes. " Yes, truly, I do know 
 /ou, you two young heroes of the battle of Tunis. 
 
180 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 God be blessed and praised, that I find two such 
 noble warriors alive, whom I had almost given up 
 for lost. But tell me now, what has turned your 
 brave swords against each other ? I trust you will 
 not object to lay open before me the cause of this 
 knightly encounter." 
 
 They complied with the great duke's behest. 
 Both the youths related their history, from the even- 
 ing before the embarkation till the present moment ; 
 whilst Alva remained motionless before them in 
 deep meditation, looking almost like an equestrian 
 statue. 
 
 The captains had already long ended their story, 
 and the duke still remained silent. At last he ad- 
 dressed them in the following manner : — 
 
 " May God and His holy word help me, my young 
 knights, as I tell you, with my best wisdom and truth 
 of heart, that I believe this affair of yours to be 
 now perfectly settled. Twice have you fought with 
 one another on account of the irritating words which 
 escaped Don Frederigo's lips : and if indeed the 
 slight wounds which you have hitherto received are 
 not sufficient, still, your having been comrades in 
 the fight at Tunis, and Sir Heimbert of Waldhausen 
 having saved Don Frederigo Mendez's life in the 
 desert, after he had rescued his bride for him in 
 battle, all this orives the knioht of Waldhausen the 
 privilege of forgiving an enemy every offense, to 
 whom he has shown himself so well inclined. The 
 old Roman history tells us of two centurions under 
 
TEIE TWO CAPTAINS. 181 
 
 the great Julius Caesar who settled a dispute, and 
 contracted a hearty brotherly friendship, from fight- 
 ing side by side, and delivering one another out of 
 the midst of the Gallic army. But I affirm that 
 you two have done more for each other ; and there- 
 fore I declare this affair to be entirely settled and 
 at an end. Sheathe your swords, then, and embrace 
 in my presence." 
 
 Obedient to their general's command, the young 
 knights for the present put up their swords ; but, 
 anxious lest the slightest shade should fall upon 
 their honor, they yet delayed the reconciling em- 
 brace. 
 
 The great Alva looked somewhat sternly upon 
 them, and said, " Do you suppose, young knights, 
 that I could desire to save the lives of two soldiers 
 at the expense of their good name ? Sooner than 
 that, I would rather see you both struck dead at 
 once. But I see that with such obstinate men, one 
 must proceed to more effective measures." And 
 leaping from his horse, which he bound to a tree, 
 he stepped between the two captains with a drawn 
 sword in his right hand, crying out, " Whoevef 
 takes upon him to deny that the quarrel between 
 Sir Heimbert of Waldhausen and Don Frederigo 
 Mendez is nobly and honorably settled, shall have 
 'o do with Duke Alva for life or death. And should 
 either of the aforenamed knights object to this, let 
 him declare it. I stand as champion for my own 
 opinion." 
 
182 THE TWO CAPTAINS. 
 
 The youths bowed to their great umpire, and 
 sank into one another's • arms. The duke embraced 
 them with heartfelt affection, which appeared the 
 more charming and refreshing, as any outward dem- 
 onstration of it was seldom to be seen in this strong- 
 minded man. 
 
 Then he led the reconciled ones back to their 
 brides ; and when these, after the first joyful surprise 
 at the presence of the much-honored general was 
 over, started back on perceiving drops of blood on 
 the youths' garments, the duke said, laughingly, " Oh ! 
 the brides-elect of soldiers must not shrink from 
 such medals of honor." 
 
 The Duke Alva took on himself to stand as father 
 to both the happy brides, and to fix the festival of 
 their betrothal for the very next day. From this 
 time forth they all lived in undisturbed concord ; 
 and when Sir Heimbert was recalled with his lovely 
 spouse to the bosom of his native Germany, the two 
 families yet continued near each other by letters and 
 constant communications. And in after times the 
 descendants of the lord of Waldhausen boasted 
 their connection with the. family of Mendez, while 
 the latter ever preserved the tradition of the brave 
 and magnanimous Heimbert of Waldhausen. 
 
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 
 
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Many years ago there lived in the island of 
 Fuhnen a noble knight, called Froda, the friend of 
 the Skalds, who was so named because he not only 
 offered free hospitality in his fair castle to every re- 
 nowned and noble bard, but likewise strove with all 
 his might to discover those ancient songs, and tales, 
 and legends, which, in Runic writings or elsewhere, 
 were still to be found ; he had even made some 
 voyages to Iceland in search of them, and had 
 fought many a hard battle with the pirates of those' 
 seas, — for he was also a right valiant knight, and he 
 followed his great ancestors not only in their love 
 of song, but also in their bold deeds of arms. Al- 
 though he was still scarcely beyond the prime of 
 youth, yet all the other nobles in the island willingly 
 submitted themselves to him, whether in eouncil or 
 in war ; nay, his renown had even been carried ere 
 now over the sea to the neighboring land of Ger- 
 many. 
 
 One bright autumn evening this honor-loving 
 
186 ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 
 
 knight sat before his castle, as he was often wont to 
 do, that he might look far and wide over land and 
 sea, and that he might invite any travellers who 
 were passing by, as was his custom, to share his no- 
 ble hospitality. But on this day he saw little of all 
 that he was accustomed to look upon ; for on his 
 knees there lay an ancient book with skillfully and 
 richly painted characters, which a learned Icelander 
 had just sent to him across the sea : it was the history 
 of Aslauga, the fair daughter of Sigurd, who at first, 
 concealing her high birth, kept goats among the 
 simple peasants of the land, clothed in mean attire ; 
 then, in the golden veil of her flowing hair, won the 
 love of King Ragnar Lodbrog ; and at last shone 
 brightly on the Danish throne as his glorious queen, 
 till the day of her death. 
 
 To the Knight Froda it seemed as though the 
 gracious Lady Aslauga rose in life and birth before 
 him, so that his calm and steadfast heart, true in- 
 deed to ladies' service, but never yet devoted to one 
 particular female image, burst forth in a clear 
 flame of love for the fair daughter of Sigurd. 
 " What matters it," thought he to himself, " that it 
 is more than a hundred years since she disappeared 
 from earth ? She sees so clearly into this heart of 
 mine — dnd what more can a knight desire ? where- 
 fore she shall henceforth be my honored love, and 
 shall inspire me in battle and in song." And there- 
 with he sang a lay on his new love, which ran in the 
 following manner : — 
 
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 187 
 
 " They ride over hill and 4ale apace 
 To seek for their love the fairest face ; 
 They search through city and forest-glade 
 To find for their love the gentlest maid ; 
 The}' climb wherever a path may lead 
 To seek the wisest dame for their meed. 
 Ride on, ye knights; but ye never may see 
 What the light of song has shown to me : 
 Loveliest, gentlest, and wisest of all, 
 Bold be the deeds that her name shall recall ; 
 What though she ne'er bless my earthly sight? 
 Yet death shall reveal her countenance bright. 
 Fair world, good night ! Good day, sweet love I 
 Who seeks here in faith shall find above." 
 
 " Such purpose may come to good," said a hollow 
 voice near the knight ; and when he looked round, 
 he saw the form of a poor peasant-woman, so closely 
 wrapped in a gray mantle that he could not discern 
 any part of her countenance. She looked over his 
 shoulder on the book, and said, with a deep sigh, 
 " I know that story well ; and it fares no better with 
 me than with the princess of whom it tells." Froda 
 looked at her with astonishment. " Yes, yes," pur- 
 sued she, with strange becks and nods ; " I am the 
 descendant of the mighty Rolf, to whom the fairest 
 castles and forests and fields of this island once be- 
 longed: your castle and your domains, Froda, 
 amongst others, were his. We are now cast down 
 to poverty ; and because I am not so fair as Aslauga, 
 there is no hope that my possessions will be restored 
 to me ; and therefore I am fain to veil my poor face 
 from every eye." It seemed that she shed warm 
 
188 • ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 
 
 tears beneath her mantle. At this Froda was 
 greatly moved, and begged her, for God's sake, to 
 let him know liDw he could help her, for that he was 
 a descendant of the famous northern heroes of the 
 olden time ; and perhaps yet something more than 
 they — namely, a good Christian. " I almost think," 
 murmured she from ueneath her covering, ^ cue- joi 
 are that very Froda whom men call the Good, and 
 the friend of the Skalds, and of whose generosity 
 and mildness such wonderful stories are told. If it 
 be so, there may be help for me. You need only 
 give up to me the half of your fields and meadows, 
 and I shall be in a condition to live, in some meas- 
 ure, such a life as befits the descendant of the 
 mighty Rolf." Then Froda looked thoughtfully on 
 the ground; partly because she had asked for so 
 very much ; partly, also, because he was considering 
 whether she could really be descended from the 
 powerful Rolf. But the veiled form said, after a 
 pause, "I must have been mistaken, and you are 
 not indeed that renowned, gentle-hearted Froda : 
 for how could he have doubted so long about such 
 a trifle? But I will try the utmost means. See 
 now ! for the sake of the fair Aslauga, of whom you 
 have both read and sung — for the sake of the 
 honored daughter of Sigurd, grant my request ! " 
 Then Froda started up eagerly, and cried, " Let it 
 be as you have said!" and gave her his knightly 
 hand to confirm his words. But he could not grasp 
 the hand of the peasant-woman, although her dark 
 
ASLADGA'S KNIGHT. 189 
 
 form remained close before him. A secret shud- 
 der began to run through his limbs, whilst suddenly 
 a light seemed to shine forth from the apparition 
 — a golden — light in which she became wholly 
 wrapped ; so that he felt as though Aslauga stood 
 before him in the flowing veil of her golden hair 
 and smiling graciously on him. Transported and 
 dazzled, he sank on his knees. When he rose up 
 once more, he only saw a cloudy mist of autumn 
 spreading over the meadow, fringed at its edges 
 ,with lingering evening lights, and then vanishing far 
 over the waves. The knight scarcely knew what 
 had happened to him. He returned to his chamber 
 buried in thought, and sometimes feeling sure that 
 he had beheld Aslauga ; sometimes, again, that some 
 goblin had risen before him with deceitful tricks, 
 mocking in spiteful wise the service which he had 
 vowed to his dead mistress. But henceforth, wher- 
 ever he roved, over valley or forest or heath, or 
 whether he sailed upon the waves of the sea, the 
 like appearances met him. Once he found a lute 
 lying in a wood, and drove a wolf away from it ; 
 and when sounds burst from the lute without its 
 being touched, a fair child rose up from it, as, of old, 
 Aslauga herself had done. At another time, he 
 would see goats clambering among the highest cliffs 
 by the sea-shore ; and it was a golden form who 
 tended them. Then, again, a bright queen, resplen- 
 dent in a dazzling bark, would seem to glide past 
 him, and salute him graciously ; — and if he strove 
 
190 ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 
 
 to approach any of these, he found nothing but 
 cloud, and mist, and vapor. Of all this many a 
 lay might be sung. But so much he learnt from 
 them all, — that the fair Lady Aslauga accepted his 
 service, and that he was now in deed and in truth 
 become her knight. 
 
 Meanwhile the winter had come and gone. In 
 northern lands this season never fails to bring to 
 those who understand and love it nmny an image 
 full of beauty and meaning, with which a child of, 
 man might well be satisfied, so far as earthly happi- 
 ness can satisfy, through all his time on earth. But 
 when the spring came glancing forth with its open- 
 ing buds and flowing waters, there came also bright 
 and sunny tidings from the land of Germany to 
 Fiihnen. 
 
 There stood on the rich banks of the Maine, where 
 it pours its waters through the fertile land of Fran- 
 conia, a castle of almost royal magnificence, whose 
 orphan-mistress was a relation of the German em- 
 peror. She was named Hildegardis ; and was ac- 
 knowledged far and wide as the fairest of maidens. 
 Therefore her imperial uncle wished that she should 
 wed none but the bravest knight who could any- 
 where be met with. Accordingly he followed the 
 example of many a noble lord in such a case, and 
 proclaimed a tournament, at which the chief prize 
 should be the hand of the peerless Hildegardis, un- 
 less the victor already bore in his heart a lady wed- 
 
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 191 
 
 ded or betrothed to him ; for the lists were not to be 
 closed to any brave warrior of equal birth, that the 
 contest of strength and courage might be so much 
 the richer in competitors. 
 
 Now the renowned Froda had tidings of this 
 from his German brethren in arms ; and he pre- 
 pared himself to appear at the festival. Before all 
 things, he forged for himself a splendid suit of 
 armor ; as, indeed, he was the most excellent ar- 
 morer of the North, far-famed as it is for skill in 
 that art. He worked the helmet out in pure gold, 
 and formed it so that it seemed to be covered with 
 bright flowing locks, which called to mind Aslauga's 
 tresses. He also fashioned on the breastplate of his 
 armor, overlaid with silver, a golden image in half 
 relief, which represented Aslauga in her veil of flow- 
 ing locks, that he might make known, even at the 
 beginning of the tournament, — " This knight, bear- 
 ing the image of a lady upon his breast, fights not for 
 the hand of the beautiful Hildegardis, but only for 
 the joy of battle and for knightly fame." Then he 
 took out of his stables a beautiful Danish steed, em- 
 barked it carefully on board a vessel, and sailed pros- 
 perously to the opposite shore. 
 
CHAPTER 11. 
 
 In one of those fair beech-woods, which abound in 
 the fertile land of Germany, he fell in with a young 
 and courteous knight of delicate form, who asked 
 the noble Northman to share the meal which he 
 had invitingly spread out upon the greensward, un- 
 der the shade of the pleasantest boughs. Whilst 
 the two knights sat peacefully together at their 
 repast, they felt drawn towards each other; and 
 rejoiced when, on rising from it, they observed that 
 they were about to follow the same road. They 
 had not come to this good understanding by means 
 of many words ; for the young knight Edwald 
 was of a silent nature, and would sit for hours with 
 a quiet smile upon his lips without opening them to 
 speak. But even in that quiet smile there lay a 
 gentle, winning grace ; and when, from time to time, 
 a few simple words of deep meaning sprang to his 
 lips, they seemed like a gift deserving of thanks. 
 It was the same with the little songs which he sang 
 ever and anon ; they were ended almost as soon as 
 begun : but in each short couplet there dwelt a deep 
 and winning spirit, whether it called forth a kindly 
 sigh or a peaceful smile. It seemed to the noble 
 
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 193 
 
 Froda as if a younger brother rode beside him, or 
 even a tender, blooming son. They travelled thus 
 many days together ; and it appeared as if their 
 path were marked out for them in inseparable union : 
 and much as they rejoiced at this, yet they looked 
 sadly at each other whenever they set out afresh, or 
 where cross-roads met, on finding that neither took 
 a different direction ; nay, it seemed at times as if a 
 tear gathered in Edwald's downcast eye. 
 
 It happened on a time, that at their hostelry they 
 met an arrogant, overbearing knight, of gigantic 
 stature and powerful frame, whose speech and car- 
 riage proved him to be not of German but foreign 
 birth. He appeared to come from the land of Bo- 
 hemia. He cast a contemptuous smile on Froda, 
 who, as usual, had opened the ancient book of As- 
 lauga's history, and was attentively reading in it. 
 " You must be a ghostly knight ? " he said, in- 
 quiringly ; and it appeared as if a whole train of 
 unseemly jests were ready to follow. But Froda 
 answered so firmly and seriously with a negative, 
 that the Bohemian stopped short suddenly ; as when 
 the beasts, after having ventured to mock their king 
 the lion, are subdued to quietness by one glance of 
 his eye. But not so easily was the Bohemian 
 knight subdued ; rather the more did he begin to 
 mock young Edwald for his delicate form and for 
 his silence — all which he bore for some time with 
 great patience ; but when at last the stranger used 
 an unbecoming phrase, he arose, girded on his 
 13 
 
194 ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 
 
 Bword, and bowing gracefully, he said, * I thank 
 you, Sir Knight, that you have given me this op- 
 portunity of proving that I am neither a slothful 
 nor unpracticed knight; for only thus can your 
 behavior be excused, which otherwise must be 
 deemed most unmannerly. Are you ready ? " 
 
 With these words he moved towards the door ; 
 the Bohemian knight followed, smiling scornfully ; 
 while Froda was full of care for his young and 
 slender companion, although his honor was so dear 
 to him that he could in no way interpose. 
 
 But it soon appeared how needless were the 
 Northman's fears. With equal vigor and address 
 did Edwald assault his gigantic adversary, so that to 
 look upon, it was almost like one of those combats 
 between a knight and some monster of the forest, 
 of which ancient legends tell. The issue too was not 
 unlike. While the Bohemian was collecting himself 
 for a decisive stroke, Edwald rushed in upon him, 
 and, with the force of a wrestler, cast him to the 
 ground. But he spared his conquered foe, helped 
 him courteously to rise, and then turned to mount his 
 own steed. Soon after he and Froda left the hos- 
 telry, and once more their journey led them on the 
 same path as before. 
 
 " From henceforth this gives me pleasure," said 
 Froda, pointing with satisfaction to their common 
 road. " I must own to you, Edchen," — he had ac- 
 customed himself, in loving confidence, to call his 
 young friend by that childlike name, — "I must own 
 
ASrAUGA'S KNIGHT.* 195 
 
 to you, that hitherto, when I have thought that you 
 might perhaps be journeying with me to the tourna- 
 ment held in honor of the fair Hildegardis, a heavi- 
 ness came over my heart. Your noble knightly 
 spirit I well knew, but I feared lest the strength of 
 your slender limbs might not be equal to it. Now I 
 have learned to know you as a warrior who may long 
 seek his match ; and God be praised if we still hold 
 on in the same path, and welcome our earliest meet- 
 ing in the lists ! " 
 
 But Edwald looked at him sorrowfully, and said^ 
 " What can my skill and strength avail, if they be 
 tried against you, and for the greatest earthly prize, 
 which one of us alone can win ? Alas ! I have long 
 foreboded with a heavy heart the sad truth, that you 
 also are journeying to the tournament of the fair 
 Hildegardis." 
 
 " Edchen," answered Froda, with a smile, " my 
 gentle, loving youth, see you not that I already wear 
 on my breastplate the image of a liege lady ? I 
 strive but for renown in arms, and not for your fair 
 Hildegardis." 
 
 " My fair Hildegardis ! " answered Edwald, with a 
 sigh. " That she is not, nor ever will be, — or should 
 she, ah ! Froda, it would pierce your heart. I know 
 well the Northland faith is deep-rooted as your rocks, 
 and hard to dissolve as their summits of snow ; but 
 let no man think that he can look unscathed into the 
 eyes of Hildegardis. Has not she, the haughty, the 
 too haughty maiden, so bewitched my tranquil, lowly 
 
196 • ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT, 
 
 mind, that T forget the gulf which lies between us, 
 and still pursue her ; and would rather perish than 
 renounce the daring hope to win that eagle spirit for 
 my own ? " 
 
 " I will help you to it, Edchen," answered Froda, 
 smiling still. " Would that I knew how this all-con- 
 quering lady looks ! She must resemble the Val- 
 kyrien of our heathen forefathers, since so many 
 mighty warriors are overcome by her." 
 
 Edwald solenmly drew forth a picture from beneath 
 his breastplate, and held it before him. Fixed, and 
 as if enchanted, Froda gazed upon it, with glowing 
 cheeks and sparkling eyes ; the smile passed away 
 from his countenance, as the sunlight fades away 
 from the meadows before the coming darkness of 
 the storm 
 
 " See you not now, my noble comrade," whispered 
 Edwald, " that for one of us two, or perhaps for both, 
 the joy of life is gone ? " 
 
 " Not yet," replied Froda, with a powerful effort ; 
 "but hide your magic picture, and let us rest be- 
 neath this shade. You must be somewhat spent with 
 your late encounter, and a strange weariness op- 
 presses me with leaden weight" They dismounted 
 from their steeds, and stretched themselves upon the 
 ground. 
 
 The noble Froda had no thought of sleep; but 
 be wished to be undisturbed whilst he wrestled 
 strongly with himself and strove, if it might be, to 
 drive from his mind that image of fearful beauty. It 
 
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHl. 197 
 
 seemed as if this new influence had alread}? become 
 a part of his very life, and at last a restless dreamy 
 sleep did indeed overshadow the exhausted warrior. 
 He fancied himself engaged in combat with many 
 knights, whilst Hildegardis looked on smiling from 
 a richly adorned balcony ; and just as he thought he 
 had gained the victory, the bleeding Edwald lay 
 groaning beneath his horse's feet. Then again it 
 seemed as if Hildegardis stood by his side in a 
 church, and they were about to receive the marriage- 
 blessing. He knew well that this was not right, and 
 the " Yes,'* which he was to utter, he pressed back 
 with resolute effort into his heart, and forthwith his 
 eyes were moistened with burning tears. From yet 
 stranger and more bewildering visions, the voice of 
 Edwald at last awoke him. He raised himself up, 
 and heard his young companion saying courteously, 
 as he looked towards a neighboring thicket, " Only 
 return, noble maiden ; I will surely help you, if I 
 can ; and I had no wish to scare you away, but that 
 the slumbers of my brother in arms might not be 
 disturbed by you." A golden gleam shone through 
 the branches as it vanished. 
 
 " For heaven's sake, my faithful comrade," cried 
 Froda, " to whom are you speaking, and who has 
 been here by me ? " 
 
 " I cannot myself rightly understand," said Ed- 
 wald. " Hardly had you dropped asleep, when a fig- 
 •are came forth from the forest, closely wrapped in a 
 
198 ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 
 
 dark mantle. At first I took her for a peasant. She 
 seated herself at your head ; and though I could see 
 nothing of her countenance, I could well observe 
 that she was sorely troubled, and even shedding 
 tears. I made signs to her to depart, lest she should 
 disturb your sleep ; and would have offered her a 
 piece of gold, supposing that poverty must be the 
 cause of her deep distress. But my hand seemed 
 powerless, and a shudder passed through me, as if 
 I had entertained such a purpose towards a queen. 
 Immediately glittering locks of gold waved here -and 
 there between the folds of her close-wrapped mantle, 
 and the thicket began almost to shine in the light 
 which they shed. ' Poor youth,' said she then, 
 * you love truly, and can well understand how a lofty 
 woman's heart burns in keenest sorrow, when a 
 noble knight, who vowed himself to be her own, 
 withdraws his heart, and, like a weak bondman, is 
 led away to meaner hopes.' Hereupon she arose, 
 and, sighing, disappeared in yonder thicket. It 
 almost seemed to me, Froda, as though she uttered 
 your name." 
 
 " Yes, it was me she named," answered Froda ; 
 " and not in vain she named me. — Aslauga, thy 
 knight comes, and enters the lists, and all for thee 
 and thy reward alone ! — At the same time, my Ed- 
 shen, we will win for you your haughty bride." With 
 this he sprang upon his steed, full of the proud joy 
 of former times ; and when the magic of Hildegar 
 
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 
 
 199 
 
 dis's beauty, dazzling and Jbewildering, would rise up 
 before him, he said smiling, " Aslauga ! " and the sun 
 of his inner life shone forth again cloudless and 
 serene. 
 
M 
 
 ^S 
 
 ^^L 
 
 ^^H 
 
 mi. 
 
 ^^8 
 
 
 ^^^S 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 From a balcony of her castle on the Maine, Hil- 
 degardis was wont to refresh herself in the cool of 
 the evening by gazing on the rich landscape below, 
 but gazing more eagerly on the glitter of arms, 
 which often came in §ight from many a distant road ; 
 for knights were approaching singly, or with a train 
 of followers, all eager to prove their courage and 
 their strength in striving for the high prize of the 
 tournament. She was in truth a proud and high- 
 minded maiden, — perhaps more so than became 
 even her dazzling beauty and her princely rank. As 
 she now gazed with a proud smile on the glittering 
 roads, a damsel of her train began the following 
 lay: — 
 
 " The joyous song of birds in spring 
 Upon the wing 
 
 Doth echo far liirough M'^ood and dell, 
 And freely teTl 
 
 Their treasures sweet of love and mirth, 
 
 Too gladsome for this lowly earth. 
 
 " The gentle breath of flowers in May, 
 
 O'er meadows gay. 
 Doth fill the pure and balmy air 
 
 With perfume rare ; 
 Still floating round each slender form. 
 Though scorch' d by sun, or torn by storm. 
 
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 201 
 
 " But ever}' high and glorious aim, 
 
 And the pure flame 
 That deep abiding in my heart 
 
 Can ne'er depart, 
 Too lofty for my falt'ring tongue, 
 Must die with me, unknown, unsung." 
 
 " Wherefore do you sing that song, and at this 
 moment ? " said Hildegardis, striving to appear 
 scornful and proud, though a deep and secret sad- 
 ness was plainly enough seen to overshadow her 
 countenance. "It came into my head unawares," 
 replied the damsel, " as I looked upon the road by 
 which the gentle Edwald with his pleasant lays first 
 approached us ; for it was from him I learnt it. But 
 seems it not to you, my gracious lady, and to you, 
 too, my companions, as if Edwald himself were again 
 riding that way towards the castle ? " — " Dreamer ! " 
 said Hildegardis scornfully, — and yet could not, for 
 some space, withdraw her eyes from the knight, till 
 at length, with an effort, she turned them on Froda, 
 who rode beside him, saying : " Yes, truly, that knight 
 is Edwald ; but what can you find to notice in the 
 meek-spirited, silent boy ? Here, fix your eyes, my 
 maidens, on this majestic figure, if you would behold 
 a knight indeed." She was silent. A voice within 
 her, as though of prophecy, said, " Now the victor 
 of the tournament rides into the court-yard ; " and 
 she, who had never feared the presence of any hu- 
 man being, now felt humbled, and almost painfully 
 awed, when she beheld the northern knight. 
 
 At the evening meal the two newly arrived knights 
 
202 ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 
 
 were placed opposite to the royal Hildegardis. As 
 Froda, after the northern fashion, remained in full 
 armor, the golden image of Aslauga gleamed from 
 his silver breastplate full before the eyes of the 
 haughty lady. She smiled scornfully, as if conscious 
 that it depended on her will to drive that image from 
 the breast and from the heart of the stranger knight. 
 Then suddenly a clear, golden light passed through 
 the hall, so that Hildegardis said, "Oh, the keen 
 lightning ! " and covered her eyes with both her 
 hands. But Froda looked into the dazzling radiance 
 with a joyful gaze of welcome. At this Hildegardis 
 feared him yet more, though at the same time she 
 thought, " This loftiest and most mysterious of men 
 must be born for me alone." Yet could she not for- 
 bear, almost against her will, to look from time to 
 time in friendly tenderness on the poor Edwald, who 
 sat there silent, and with a sweet smile seemed to 
 pity and to mock his own suffering and his own vain 
 hopes. 
 
 When the two knights were alone in their sleep- 
 ing-chamber, Edwald looked for a long time in si- 
 lence into the dewy, balmy night. Then he sang to 
 his lute : — 
 
 " A hero wise and brave, 
 A lowly tender youth, 
 Are wandering through the land 
 In steadfast love and ti-uth. 
 
 " The hero, by his deeds, 
 
 Both bliss and fame hath won, 
 
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 203 
 
 And still, with heartfelt joy, 
 The faithful child looked on." 
 
 But Froda took the lute from his hands, and said, 
 * No, Edchen, I will teach you another song ; listen ! 
 
 " There's a gleam in the hall, and liko morning's light 
 
 Hath shone upon all her presence bright. 
 
 Suitors watch as she passes by — 
 
 She may gladden their hearts by one glance of her eye : 
 
 But coldly she gazeth upon the throng, 
 
 And they that have sought her may seek her long. 
 
 She turns her away from the richly clad knight; 
 
 She heeds not the words of the learned wight ; 
 
 The prince is before her in all his pride, 
 
 But other the visions around her that glide. 
 
 Then tell me, in all the wide world's space, 
 
 Who may e'er win that lady's grace? 
 
 In sorrowful love there sits apart 
 
 The gentle squire who hath her heart; 
 
 They all are deceived by fancies vain, 
 
 And he knows it not who the prize shall gain." 
 
 Edwald thrilled. " As God wills," said he, softly 
 to himself. " But I cannot understand how such a 
 thing could be." — " As God wills," repeated Froda. 
 The two friends embraced each other, and soon after 
 fell into a peaceful slumber. 
 
 Some days afterwards, Froda sat in a secluded 
 bower of the castle garden, and was reading in the 
 ancient book of his lovely mistress Aslauga. It hap- 
 pened at that very time that Hildegardis passed by. 
 She stood still, and said, thoughtfully, " Strange 
 anion that you are of knight and sage, how comes 
 it that you bring forth so little out of the deep treas- 
 ares of your knowledge ? And yet I think you 
 
204 ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 
 
 must have many a choice history at your command, 
 even such as that which now lies open before you ; 
 for I see rich and bright pictures of knights and 
 ladies painted amongst the letters." — " It is, indeed, 
 the most surpassing and enchanting history in all the 
 world," said Froda ; " but you have neither patience 
 nor thoughtfulness to listen to our wonderful legends 
 of the North." 
 
 *• Why think you so ? " answered Hildegardis, with 
 that pride which she rejoiced to display towards 
 Froda, when she could find courage to do so ; and, 
 placing herself on a stone seat opposite, she com- 
 manded him at once to read something to her out of 
 that fair book. 
 
 Froda began ; and in the very effort which he 
 made to change the old heroic speech of Iceland 
 into the German tongue, his heart and mind were 
 stirred more fervently and solemnly. As he looked 
 up from time to time, he beheld the countenance of 
 Hildegardis beaming in ever-growing beauty with 
 joy, wonder, and interest ; and the thought passed 
 through his mind whether this could indeed be his 
 destined bride, to whom Aslauga herself was guid- 
 ing him. 
 
 Then suddenly the characters became strangely 
 confused ; it seemed as if the pictures began to 
 move, so that he was obliged to stop. While he 
 fixed his eyes with a strong effort upon the book, 
 endeavoring to drive away this strange confusion, 
 he heard a well-known, sweetly solemn voice, which 
 
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 205 
 
 said, " Leave a little space for me, fair lady. The 
 history which that knight is reading to you relates 
 to me ; and I hear it gladly." 
 
 Before the eyes of Froda, as he raised them from 
 his book, sat Aslaiiga in all the glory of her flowing 
 golden locks beside Hildegardis, on the seat. With 
 tears of affright in her eyes, the maiden sank back 
 and fainted. Solemnly, yet graciously, Aslauga 
 warned her knight with a motion of her fair right 
 hand, and vanished. 
 
 " What have I done to you," said Hildegardis, 
 when recovered from her swoon by his care, — " what 
 have I done to you, evil-minded knight, that you call 
 up your northern spectres before me, and well-nigh 
 destroy me through terror of your magic arts ? " 
 " Lady," answered Froda, " may God help me, as I 
 have not called hither the wondrous lady who but 
 now appeared to us. But now her will is known to 
 me, and I commend you to God's keeping." 
 
 With that he walked thoughtfully out of the 
 bower. Hildegardis fled in terror from the gloomy 
 shade ; and, rushing out on the opposite side, 
 reached a fair open grass-plot, where Edwald, in the 
 soft glow of twilight, was gathering flowers ; and, 
 meeting her with a courteous snjile, ofiered her a 
 nosegay of narcissus and pansies. 
 
^tt 
 
 ^^ 
 
 fi 
 
 
 ^^^m 
 
 "^ 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 At length the day fixed for the tournament ar 
 rived ; and a distinguished noble, appointed by the 
 German emperor, arranged all things in the most 
 magnificent and sumptuous guise for the solemn fes- 
 tival. The field-combat opened wide, and fair, and 
 level ; thickly strewn with the finest sand, so that 
 both man and horse might find sure footing ; and, 
 like a pure field of snow, it shone forth from the 
 midst of the flowery plain. Rich hangings of silk 
 from Arabia, curiously embroidered with Indian 
 gold, adorned with their various colors the lists in- 
 closing the space, and hung from the lofty galleries 
 which had been erected for the ladies and the nobles 
 who were to behold the combat. At the upper end, 
 under a canopy of majestic arches richly wrought in 
 gold, was the place of the Lady Hildegardis. Green 
 wreaths and garlands waved gracefully between the 
 glittering pillars in the soft breezes of July. And 
 with impatient eyes the multitude, who crowded be- 
 yond the lists, gazed upwards^ expecting the appear- 
 ance of the fairest maiden of Germany ; and were 
 only at times drawn to another part by the stately 
 approach of the combatants. Oh, how many a bright 
 suit of armor, how many a silken, richly embroidered 
 
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 207 
 
 mantle, how many a lofty waving plume was here to 
 be seen ! The splendid troop of knights moved 
 within the lists, greeting and conversing with each 
 other, as a bed of flowers stirred by a breath of 
 wind: — but the flower-stems had grown to lofty 
 trees, the yellow and white flower-leaves had changed 
 to gold and silver, and the dew-drops to pearls and 
 diamonds. For whatever was most fair and costly, 
 most varied and full of meaning, had these noble 
 knights collected in honor of this day. Many an eye 
 was turned on Froda, who, without scarf, plume, or 
 mantle, with his shining silver breastplate, on which 
 appeared the golden image of Aslauga, and with his 
 well- wrought helmet of golden locks, shone, in the 
 midst of the crowd, like polished brass. Others, 
 again, there were, who took pleasure in looking at 
 the young Edwald ; his whole armor was covered by 
 a mantle of white silk, embroidered in azure and 
 silver, as his whole helmet was concealed by a wav- 
 ing plume of white feathers. He was arrayed with 
 almost feminine elegance ; and yet the conscious 
 power with which he controlled his fiery, snow-white 
 steed made known the victorious strength and man- 
 liness of the warlike stripling. 
 
 In strange contrast appeared the tall and almost 
 gigantic figure of a knight clothed in a mantle of 
 black glossy bear-skin, bordered with costly fur, 
 but without any ornament of shining metal. His 
 very helmet was covered with dark bear-skin ; and, 
 instead of plumes, a mass of blood-red horse-hair 
 
208 ASLAUGA'S KNIGHt. 
 
 hung like a flowing mane profusely on every side. 
 Well did Froda and Edwald remember that dark 
 knight; for he was the uncourteous guest of the 
 hostelry : he also seemed to remark the two knights ; 
 for he turned his unruly steed suddenly round, forced 
 his way through the crowd of warriors, and, after he 
 had spoken over the inclosure to a hideous, bronze- 
 colored woman, sprang with a wild leap across the 
 lists, and, with the speed of an arrow, vanished out 
 of sight. The old woman looked after him with a 
 friendly nod. The assembled people laughed as at 
 a strange masking device ; but Edwald and Froda 
 had their own almost shuddering thoughts concern- 
 ing it, which, however, neither imparted to the other. 
 
 The kettle-drums rolled, the trumpets sounded, 
 and, led by the aged duke, Hildegardis advanced, 
 richly appareled, but more dazzling through the 
 brightness of her own beauty. She stepped forward 
 beneath the arches of the golden bower, and bowed 
 to the assembly. The knights bent low, and the 
 feeling rushed into many a heart, " There is no man 
 on earth who can deserve a bride so queenly." When 
 Froda bowed his head, it seemed to him as if the 
 golden radiance of Aslauga's tresses floated before 
 his sight ; and his spirit rose in joy and pride that 
 his lady held him worthy to be so often reminded of 
 her. 
 
 And now the tournament began. At first the 
 knights strove with blunted swords and battle-axes ; 
 then they ran their course with lances man to man ; 
 
ASLAUGA'S KNIGli'l 209 
 
 but at last they divided into two equal parties, and a 
 general assault began, in which every one was al- 
 lowed to use at his own will either sword or lance. 
 Froda and Edwald equally surpassed their antago- 
 nists, as (measuring each his own strength and that 
 of his friend) they had foreseen. And now it must 
 be decided, by a single combat with lances, to whom 
 the highest prize of victory should belong. Before 
 this trial began, they rode slowly together into the 
 middle of the course, and consulted where each 
 should take his place. " Keep you your guiding- 
 star still before your sight," said Froda, with a smile ; 
 " the like gracious help will not be wanting to me." 
 Edwald looked round astonished for the lady of 
 whom his friend seemed to speak ; but Froda went 
 on. " I have done wrong in hiding aught from you ; 
 but after the tournament you shall know all. Now 
 lay aside all needless thoughts of wonder, dear Ed- 
 chen, and sit firm in your saddle ; for I warn you 
 that I shall run this course with all my might : not 
 my honor alone is at stake, but the far higher honor 
 of my lady." 
 
 " So also do I purpose to demean myself," said 
 Edwald, with a friendly smile. They shook each 
 other by the hand, and rode to their places. 
 
 Amidst the sound of trumpets they met again, 
 running their course with lightning speed ; the 
 lances shivered with a crash, the horses staggered, 
 the knights, firm in their saddles, pulled them up, 
 and rode back to their places. But as they prepared 
 14 
 
210 ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 
 
 for another course, PMwald's white steed snorted in 
 wild affright, and Froda's powerful chestnut reared 
 up foaming. 
 
 It was plain that the two noble animals shrunk 
 from a second hard encounter ; but their riders held 
 them fast with spur and bit, and, firm and obedient, 
 they again dashed forward at the second call of the 
 trumpet. Edwald, who by one deep, ardent gaze on 
 the beauty of his mistress had stamped it afresh on 
 his soul, cried aloud at the moment of encounter, 
 " Hildegardis ! " and so mightily did his lance strike 
 his valiant adversary, that Froda sank backwards on 
 his steed, with difficulty keeping his seat in his sad- 
 dle, or holding firm in his stirrups ; whilst Edwald 
 flew by unshaken, lowered his spear to salute Hilde- 
 gardis as he passed her bower, and then, amidst the 
 loud applause of the multitude, rushed to his place, 
 ready for the third course. And, ah ! Hildegardis her- 
 self, overcome by surprise, had greeted him with a 
 blush and a look of kindness ; it seemed to him as if 
 the overwhelming joy of victory were already gained. 
 But it was not so ; for the vaHant Froda, burning 
 with noble shame, had again tamed his affrighted 
 steed, and, chastising him sharply with the spur for 
 his share in this mischance, said in a low voice, " Beau- 
 tiful and beloved lady, show thyself to me, — the 
 honor of thy name is at stake." To every other eye 
 it seemed as if a golden, rosy tinted summer's cloud 
 was passing over the deep-blue sky ; but Froda be- 
 held the heavenly countenance of his lady, felt the 
 
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 211 
 
 tvaving of her golden tresses, and cried, " Aslauga ! " 
 The two rushed together, and Edwald was hurled 
 from his saddle far upon the dusty plain. 
 
 Froda remained for a time motionless, according 
 to the laws of chivalry, as though waiting to see 
 whether any one would dispute his victory, and ap- 
 pearing on his mailed steed like some lofty statue of 
 brass. All around stood the multitude in silent 
 wonderment. When at length they burst forth into 
 shouts of triumph, he beckoned earnestly with his 
 hand, and all were again silent. He then sprang 
 lightly from his saddle, and hastened to the spot 
 where the fallen Edwald was striving to rise. He 
 pressed him closely to his breast, led his snow-white 
 steed towards him, and would not be denied holding 
 the stirrups of the youth whilst he mounted. Then 
 he bestrode his own steed, and rode by Edwald's 
 side towards the golden bower of Hildegardis, where 
 with lowered spear and open visor, he thus spoke : 
 " Fairest of all living ladies, I bring you here Ed- 
 wald, your knightly bridegroom, before whose lance 
 and sword all the knights of this tournament have 
 fallen away, I only excepted, who can make no claim 
 to the choicest prize of victory, since I, as the image 
 on my breastplate may show, already serve another 
 mistress." 
 
 The duke was even now advancing towards the 
 two warriors, to lead them into the golden bower ; 
 but Hildegardis restrained him with a look of dis- 
 pleasure, saying immediately, while her cheeks 
 
212 ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 
 
 glowed with anger, " Then you seem, Sir Froda, the 
 Danish knight, to serve your lady ill ; for even now 
 you openly styled me the fairest of living ladies." 
 
 "That did I," answered Froda, bending court- 
 eously; "because my fair mistress belongs to the 
 dead." 
 
 A slight shudder passed at these words through 
 the assembly, and through the heart of Hildegardis ; 
 but soon the anger of the maiden blazed forth again, 
 and the more because the most wonderful and ex- 
 cellent knight she knew had scorned her for the 
 sake of a dead mistress. 
 
 " I make known to all," she said with solemn ear- 
 nestness, " that according to the just decree of my im- 
 perial uncle, this hand can never belong to a van- 
 quished knight, however noble and honorable he 
 may otherwise have proved himself As the con- 
 queror of this tournament, therefore, is bound to 
 another service, this combat concerns me not ; and 
 I depart hence as I came, a free and unbetrothed 
 maiden." 
 
 The duke seemed about to reply ; but she turned 
 haughtily away, and left the bower. Suddenly, a 
 gust of wind shook the green wreaths and garlands, 
 and they fell untwined and rustling behind her. In 
 this the people, displeased with the pride of Hilde- 
 gardis, thought they beheld an omen of punishment, 
 and with jeering words noticed it as they departed. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 The two knights had returned to their apartments 
 in deep silence. When they arrived there, Edwald 
 caused himself to be disarmed, and laid every piece 
 of his fair, shining armor together with a kind of 
 tender care, almost as if he were burying the corpse 
 of a beloved friend. Then he beckoned to his 
 squires to leave the chamber, took his lute on his 
 arm, and sang the following song to its notes : — 
 
 " Bury them, bury them out of sight, 
 For hope and fame are fled; 
 And peaceful resting and quiet night 
 Are all now left for the dead." 
 
 " You will stir up my anger against your lute," 
 said Froda. " You had accustomed it to more joy- 
 ful songs than this. It is too good for a passing-bell, 
 and you too good to toll it. I tell you yet, my young 
 hero, all will end gloriously." 
 
 Edwald looked awhile with wonder in his face, and 
 he answered kindly : " Beloved Froda, if it dis- 
 pleases you, I will surely sing no more." But, at the 
 same time, he struck a few sad chords, which sounded 
 infinitely sweet and tender. Then the northern 
 knight, much moved, clasped him in his arms, and 
 
214 ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 
 
 said : " Dear Edchen, sing and say and do whatever 
 pleases you ; it shall ever rejoice me. But you may 
 well believe me, for I speak not this without a spirit 
 of presage — your sorrow shall change ; whether to 
 death or life I know not, but great and overpowering 
 joy awaits you." Edwald rose firmly and cheerfully 
 from his seat, seized his companion's arm with a 
 strong grasp, and walked forth with him through the 
 blooming alleys of the garden into the balmy air. 
 
 At that very hour, an aged woman, muffled in 
 many a covering, was led secretly to the apartment 
 of the Lady Hildegardis. The appearance of the 
 dark complexioned stranger was mysterious; and 
 she had gathered round her for some time, by many 
 feats of jugglery, a part of the multitude returning 
 home from the tournament, but had dispersed them 
 at last in wild affright. Before this happened, the 
 tire-woman of Hildegardis had hastened to her mis- 
 tress, to entertain her with an account of the rare 
 and pleasant feats of the bronze-colored woman. 
 The maidens in attendance, seeing their lady deeply 
 moved, and wishing to banish her melancholy, bade 
 the tire-woman bring the old stranger hither. Hil- 
 degardis forbade it not, hoping that she should thus 
 divert the attention of her maidens, while she gave 
 herself up more deeply and earnestly to the varying 
 imaginations which flitted through her mind. 
 
 The messenger found the place already deserted, 
 and the strange old woman alone in the midst, laugh 
 Ing immoderately. When questioned by her, she 
 
ASLAUGA'S DAUGHTER. 215 
 
 did not deny that she had all at once taken the form 
 of a monstrous owl, announcing to the spectators in 
 a screeching voice, that she was the Devil, — and 
 that every one upon this rushed screaming home. 
 
 The tire-woman trembled at the fearful jest, but 
 durst not return to ask again the pleasure of Hilde- 
 gardis, whose discontented mood she had already re- 
 marked. She gave strict charge to the old woman, 
 with many a threat and promise, to demean herself 
 discreetly in the castle ; after which she brought her 
 in by the most secret way, that none of those whom 
 she had terrified might see her enter. 
 
 The aged crone now stood before Hildegardis, 
 and winked to her, in the midst of her low and hum- 
 ble salutation, in a strangely familiar manner, as 
 though there were some secret between them. The 
 lady felt an involuntary shudder, and could not with- 
 draw her gaze from the features of that hideous 
 countenance, hateful as it was to her. The curiosity 
 which had led the rest to desire a sight of the 
 strange w^oman was by no means gratified ; for she 
 performed none but the most common tricks of 
 jugglery and related only well-known tales, so that 
 the tire-woman felt wearied and indifferent; and, 
 ashamed of having brought the stranger, she stole 
 away unnoticed. Several other maidens followed her 
 example ; and as these withdrew, the old crone 
 twisted her mouth into a smile, and repeated the 
 same hideous confidential wink towards the lady. 
 Hildegardis could not understand what attracted her 
 
216 ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 
 
 in the jests and tales of the bronze-colored woman ; 
 but so it was, that in her whole life she had never 
 bestowed such attention on the words of any one. 
 Still the old woman went on and on, and already the 
 night looked dark without the windows ; but the at- 
 tendants who still remained with Hildegardis had 
 sunk into a deep sleep, and had lighted none of the 
 wax-tapers in the apartment. 
 
 Then, in the dusky gloom, the dark old crone rose 
 from the low seat on which she had been sitting, as 
 if she now felt herself well at ease, advanced to- 
 wards Hildegardis, who sat as if spell-bound with 
 terror, placed herself beside her on the purple 
 couch, and embracing her in her long dry arms with 
 a hateful caress, whispered a few words in her ear. 
 It seemed to the lady as if she uttered the names of 
 Froda and Edwald ; and from them came the sound 
 of a flute, which, clear and silvery as were its tones, 
 seemed to lull her into a trance. She could indeed 
 move her limbs, but only to follow those sounds, 
 which like a silver net-work floated round the 
 hideous form of the old woman. She moved from 
 the chamber, and Hildegardis followed her through 
 all her slumbering maidens, still singing softly as 
 she went, " Ye maidens, ye maidens, I wander by 
 night." 
 
 Without the castle, accompanied by squire and 
 groom, stood the gigantic Bohemian warrior; he 
 laid on the shoulders of the croiie a bag of gold so 
 heavy that she sank half whimpering, half laughing 
 
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 217 
 
 on the ground ; then lifted the entranced Hildegar- 
 dis on his steed, and galloped with her silently into 
 the ever-deepening gloom of night. 
 
 " All ye noble lords and knights, who yesterday 
 contended gallantly for the prize of victory and the 
 hand of the peerless Hildegardis, arise, arise ! sad- 
 dle your steeds, and to the rescue ! The peerless 
 Hildegardis is carried away ! " 
 
 Thus proclaimed many a herald through castle 
 and town, in the bright red dawn of the following 
 day ; and on all sides rose the dust from the tread 
 of knights and noble squires along those roads by 
 which so lately, in the evening twilight, Hildegardis 
 in proud repose had gazed on her approaching 
 suitors. 
 
 Two of them, well known to us, remained insepa- 
 rably together ; but they knew as little as the others 
 whether they had taken the right direction ; for how 
 and when the adored lady could have disappeared 
 from her apartments, w^as still to the whole castle a 
 fearful and mysterious secret. 
 
 Edwald and Froda rode as long as the sun moved 
 over their heads, unwearied as he ; and now when 
 he sank in the waves of the river, they thought to 
 win the race from him, and still spurred on their 
 jaded steeds. But the noble animals staggered 
 ^nd panted, and the knights were constrained to 
 grant them some little refreshment in a grassy 
 meadow. Secure of bringing them back at their 
 first call, their masters removed both bit and curb, 
 
218 ASLAUGA'S KNIOHT. 
 
 that they might be refreshed with the green pasture, 
 and with the deep blue waters of the Maine, while 
 they themselves reposed under the shade of a neigh- 
 boring thicket of alders. 
 
 And deep in the cool dark shade, there shone, as 
 it were, a mild but clear, sparkling light, and checked 
 the speech of Froda, who at that moment was be- 
 ginning to tell his friend the tale of his knightly ser- 
 vice to his sovereign lady, which had been delayed 
 hitherto, first by Edwald's sadness, and then by the 
 haste of their journey. Ah, well did Froda know 
 that lovely golden light ! " Let us follow it, Ed- 
 chen," said he in a low tone, " and leave the horses 
 awhile to their pasture." Edwald in silence followed 
 his companion's advice. A secret voice, half sweet, 
 half fearful, seemed to tell him that here was the 
 path, the only right path to Hildegardis. Once only 
 he said in astonishment, " Never before have I seen 
 the evening glow shine on the leaves so brightly." 
 Froda shook his head with a smile, and they pursued 
 in silence their unknown track. 
 
 When they came forth on the other side of the 
 alder-thicket upon the bank of the Maine, which 
 almost wound round it, Edwald saw well that another 
 glow than that of evening was shining on them ; for 
 dark clouds of night already covered the heavens, 
 and the guiding light stood fixed on the shore of the 
 river. It lit up the waves, so that they could see a 
 high, woody island in the midst of the stream, and a 
 boat on the hither side of the shore fast bound to a 
 
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 219 
 
 Btake. But on approaching, the knights saw much 
 more ; — a troop of horsemen of strange and for- 
 eign appearance were all asleep, and in the midst of 
 them, slumbering on cushions, a female form in white 
 garments. 
 
 " Hildegardis ! " murmured Edwald to himself 
 with a smile, and at the same time he drew his sword 
 in readiness for the combat as soon as the robbers 
 should awake, and beckoned to Froda to raise the 
 sleeping lady, and convey her to a place of safety. 
 But at this moment something like an owl passed 
 whizzing over the dark squadron ; and they all 
 started up with clattering arms and hideous outcries. 
 A wild, unequal combat arose in the darkness of 
 night, for that beaming light had disappeared. 
 Froda and Edwald were driven asunder, and only at 
 a distance heard each other's mighty war-cry. Hil- 
 degardis, startled from her magic sleep, uncertain 
 whether she were waking or dreaming, fled bewil- 
 dered and weeping bitterly into the deep shades of 
 the alder-thicket. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Froda felt his arm grow weary, and the warm 
 blood was flowing from two wounds in his shoulder ; 
 he wished so to lie down in death that he might rise 
 up with honor from his bloody grave to the exalted 
 lady whom he served. He cast his shield behind him, 
 grasped his sword-hilt with both hands, and rushed 
 wildly, with a loud war-cry, upon the affrighted foe. 
 Instantly he heard some voices cry, " It is the rage 
 of the northern heroes which has come upon him." 
 And the whole troop were scattered in dismay, while 
 the exhausted knight remained wounded and alone 
 in the darkness. 
 
 Then the golden hair of Aslauga gleamed once 
 more in the alder-shade ; and Froda said, leaning, 
 through weariness, on his sword, " I think not that I 
 am wounded to death ; but whenever that time shall 
 come, beloved lady, wilt thou not indeed appear to 
 me in all thy loveliness and brightness ? " A soft 
 " Yes " breathed against his cheek, and the golden 
 light vanished. 
 
 But now Hildegardis came forth from the thicket, 
 half fainting with terror, and said feebly, " Within is 
 the fair and frightful spectre of the North ; without 
 
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT 221 
 
 is the battle : — O merciful Heaven ! whither shall 
 I go?" 
 
 Then Froda approached to soothe the affrighted 
 one, to speak some words of comfort to her, and to 
 inquire after Edwald ; but wild shouts and the rat- 
 tling of armor announced the return of the Bohe- 
 mian warriors. With haste P'roda led the maiden to 
 the boat, pushed off from the shore, and rowed her 
 with the last effort of his failing strength towards the 
 island which he had observed in the midst of the 
 stream. But the pursuers had already kindled 
 torches, and waved them sparkling here and there : 
 by this light they soon discovered the boat ; they saw 
 that the dreaded Danish knight was bleeding, and 
 gained fresh courage for their pursuit. Hardly had 
 Froda pushed the boat to the shore of the island, 
 before he perceived a Bohemian on the other side 
 in another skiff; and soon afterwards the greater 
 number of the enemy embarked to row towards the 
 island. " To the wood, fair maiden," he whispered, 
 as soon as he had landed Hildegardis on the shore : 
 "there conceal yourself, whilst I endeavor to pre- 
 vent the landing of the robbers." But Hildegardis, 
 clinging to his arm, whispered again, " Do I not see 
 that you are pale and bleeding? and would you have 
 me expire with terror in the dark and lonely clefts 
 of this rock ? Ah ! and if your northern gold- 
 haired spectre were to appear again and seat herself 
 beside me ! Think you that I do not see her there 
 now, shining through the thicket ! " — " She shines ! ** 
 
222 ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 
 
 echoed Froda; and new strength and hope ran 
 through every vein. He climbed the hill, following 
 the gracious gleam ; and Hildegardis, though trem- 
 bling at the sight, went readily with her companion, 
 saying only, from time to time, in a low voice, " Ah, 
 Sir Knight ! — my noble, wondrous knight ! — leave 
 me not here alone ; that would be my death." The 
 knight, soothing her courteously, stepped ever on- 
 wards through the darkness of dell and forest ; for 
 already he heard the sound of the Bohemians land- 
 ing on the shore of the island. Suddenly he stood 
 before a cave thick-covered with underwood ; and 
 the gleam disappeared. " Here, then," he whispered, 
 endeavoring to hold the branches asunder. For a 
 moment she paused, and said, " If you should but 
 let the branches close again behind me, and I were 
 to remain alone with spectres in this cave ! But, 
 Froda, you will surely follow me — a trembling, 
 hunted child as T am ? Will you not ? " Without 
 more misgivings she passed through the branches ; 
 and the knight, who would willingly have remained 
 without as a guard, followed her. Earnestly he lis- 
 tened through the stillness of night, whilst Hildegar- 
 dis hardly dared to draw her breath. Then was 
 heard the tramp of an armed man, coming ever 
 nearer and nearer, and now close to the entrance of 
 the cave. In vain did Froda strive to free himself 
 from the trembling maiden. Already the branches 
 before the entrance were cracking and breaking, and 
 Froda sighed deeply. " Must, I then, fall like a 
 
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 223 
 
 lurking fugitive, entangled in a woman's garments ? 
 It is a base death to die. But can I cast this half- 
 fainting creature away from me on the dark hard 
 earth, perhaps into some deep abyss ? Come then 
 what will, thou, Lady Aslauga, knowest that I die an 
 honorable death ! " 
 
 " Froda ! Hildegardis ! " breathed a gentle, well- 
 known voice at the entrance ; and recognizing Ed- 
 wald, Froda bore the lady towards him into the 
 starlight, saying, " She will die of terror in our sight 
 in this deep cavern. Is the foe near at hand ? " 
 " Most of them lie lifeless on the shore, or swim 
 bleeding through the waves," said Edwald. " Set 
 your mind at rest, and repose yourself Are you 
 wounded, beloved Froda ? " He gave this short ac- 
 count to his astonished companions — how, in the 
 darkness, he had mixed with the Bohemians and 
 pressed into the skiff, and that it had been easy 
 to him on landing to disperse the robbers entirely, 
 who supposed that they were attacked by one of 
 their own crew, and thought themselves bewitched. 
 " They began at last to fall on one another," — so 
 he ended his history, — " and we have only now to 
 wait for the morning to conduct the lady home ; for 
 those who are wandering about of that owl-squadron 
 will doubtless hide themselves from the eye of day." 
 While speaking, he had skillfully and carefully ar- 
 ranged a couch of twigs and moss for Hildegardis ; 
 and when the wearied one, after uttering some gen- 
 tle words of gratitude, had sunk into a slumber, he 
 
224 ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 
 
 began, as well as the darkness would allow, to bind 
 up the wounds of his friend. During this anxious 
 task, while the dark boughs of the trees murmured 
 over their heads, and the rippling of the stream was 
 heard from afar, Froda, in a low voice, made known 
 to his brother in arms to the service of what lady he 
 was bound. Edwald listened with a deep attention ; 
 but at last he said tenderly, " Trust me, the noble 
 Princess Aslauga will not resent it, if you pledge 
 yourself to this earthly beauty in faithful love. Ah ! 
 even now, doubtless, you are shining in the dreams 
 of Hildegardis, richly-gifted and happy knight ! I 
 will not stand in your way with my vain wishes ; I 
 see now clearly that she can never love me. There- 
 fore I will this very day hasten to the war which so 
 many valiant knights of Germany are waging in the 
 heathen land of Prussia ; and the black cross, which 
 distinguishes them for warriors of the Church, I will 
 lay as the best balm on my throbbing heart. Take, 
 then, dear Froda, that fair hand which you have won 
 in battle, and live henceforth a life of surpassing hap- 
 piness and joy." 
 
 " Edwald," said Froda, gravely, " this is the first 
 time that I ever heard one word from your lips which 
 a true knight could not fulfill. Do as it pleases you 
 towards the fair and haughty Hildegardis ; but As- 
 lauga remains my mistress ever, and no other do I 
 desire in life or death." The youth was startled by 
 these stern words, and made no reply. Both, with- 
 out saying more to each other, watched through the 
 night in solemn thought. 
 
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 225 
 
 The next morning, when the rising sun shone 
 brightly over the flowery plains around the Castle of 
 Hildegardis, the watchman on the tower blew a joy- 
 ful blast from his horn ; for his keen eye had dis- 
 tinguished far in the distance his fair lady, who was 
 riding from the forest between her two deliverers ; 
 and from castle, town, and hamlet came forth many 
 a rejoicing train to assure themselves with their own 
 eyes of the happy news. 
 
 Hildegardis turned to Edwald with eyes sparkling 
 through tears, and said, " Were it not for you, young 
 knight, they might have sought long and vainly 
 before they found the lost maiden or the noble Fro- 
 da, who would now be lying in that dark cavern a 
 bleeding and lifeless corse." Edwald bowed lowly 
 in reply, but persevered in his wonted silence. It 
 even seemed as though an unusual grief restrained 
 the smile which erewhile answered so readily, in 
 childlike sweetness, to every friendly word. 
 
 The noble guardian of Hildegardis had, in the 
 overflowing joy of his heart, prepared a sumptuous 
 banquet, and invited all the knights and ladies pres- 
 ent to attend it. Whilst Froda and Edwald, in all 
 the brightness of their glory, were ascending the 
 steps in the train of their rescued lady, Edwald said 
 to his friend, " Noble, steadfast knight, you can never 
 love me more ! " And as Froda looked in astonish- 
 ment, he continued, — " Thus it is when children 
 presume to counsel heroes, however well they may 
 mean it. Now have I offended grievously against 
 15 
 
226 ASLAGUA'S KNIGHT. 
 
 you, and yet more against the noble Lady Aslauga." 
 " Because you would have plucked every flower of 
 your own garden to gladden nie with them ? " said 
 Froda : " No ; you are • my gentle brother in arms 
 now, as heretofore, dear Edchen, and are perhaps 
 become yet dearer to me." 
 
 Then Edwald smiled again in silent contentment, 
 like a flower after the morning showers of May. 
 
 The eyes of Hildegardis glanced mildly and kindly 
 on him, and she often conversed graciously with him, 
 while, on the other hand, since yesterday, a reveren- 
 tial awe seemed to separate her from Froda. But 
 Edwald also was much altered. However he wel- 
 comed with modest joy the favor of his lady, it yet 
 seemed as if some barrier were between them which 
 forbade him to entertain the most distant hope of 
 successful love. 
 
 It chanced that a noble count, from the court 
 of the Emperor, was announced, who, being bound 
 on an important embassy, had wished to pay his re- 
 spects to the lady Hildegardis by the way. She 
 received him gladly ; and as soon as the first saluta- 
 tions were over, he said, looking at her and at Ed- 
 wald, " I know not if my good fortune may not have 
 brought me hither to a very joyful festivity. That 
 would be right welcome news to the Emperor my 
 master." Hildegardis and Edwald were lovely to 
 look upon in their blushes and confusion : but the 
 count, perceiving at once that he had been too hasty, 
 inclined himself respectfully towards the young 
 
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 227 
 
 knight, and said, " Pardon me, noble Duke Edwald, 
 my too great forwardness ; but I know the wish of 
 my sovereign, and the hope to find it ah-eady fulfilled 
 prompted my tongue to speak." All eyes were fixed 
 inquiringly on the young hero, who answered, in 
 graceful confusion, " It is true ; the Emperor, when 
 I was last in his camp, through his undeserved favor, 
 raised me to the rank of a duke. It was my good 
 fortune, that in an encounter, some of the enemy's 
 horse, who had dared to assault the sacred person of 
 the Emperor, dispersed and fled on my approach." 
 The count then, at the request of Hildegardis, re- 
 lated every circumstance of the heroic deed ; and it 
 appeared that Edwald had not only rescued the Em- 
 peror from the most imminent peril, but also, with 
 the cool and daring skill of a general, had gained 
 the victory which decided the event of the war. 
 
 Surprise at first sealed the lips of all ; and even 
 before their congratulations could begin, Hildegardis 
 had turned towards Edwald, and said in a low voice, 
 which yet, in that silence, was clearly heard by all, 
 " The noble count has made known the wish of my 
 imperial uncle ; and I conceal it no longer, my own 
 .heart's wish is the same: I am Duke Edwald's 
 bride." And with that she extended to him her fair 
 right hand; and all present waited only till he 
 should take it, before they burst into a shout of con- 
 gratulation. But Edwald forbore to do so ; he only 
 sunk on one knee before his lady, saying, " God for- 
 bid that the lofty Hildegardis should ever recall a 
 
228 ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 
 
 word spoken solemnly to noble knights and dames. 
 To no vanquished knight/ you said, 'might the 
 hand of the Emperor's niece belong ' — and behold 
 there Froda, the noble Danish knight, my con- 
 queror." Hildegardis, with a slight blush, turned 
 hastily away, hiding her eyes ; and as Edwald arose, 
 it seemed as though there were a tear upon his 
 cheek. 
 
 In his clanging armor Froda advanced to the mid- 
 dle of the hall, exclaiming, " I declare my late vic- 
 tory over Duke Edwald to have been the chance of 
 fortune, and I challenge the noble knight to meet 
 me again to-morrow in the lists." 
 
 At the same time he threw his iron gauntlet ring- 
 ing on the pavement. 
 
 But Edwald moved not to take it up. On the con- 
 trary, a glow of lofty anger was on his cheeks, and 
 his eyes sparkled with indignation, so that his friend 
 would hardly have recognized him ; and after a si- 
 lence he spoke : — 
 
 " Noble Sir Froda, if I have ever offended you, we 
 are now even. How durst you, a warrior gloriously 
 wounded by two sword-strokes, challenge a man un- 
 hurt into the lists to-morrow, if you did not despise 
 him?" 
 
 " Forgive me, Duke Edwald,' answered Froda, 
 somewhat abashed, but with cheerfulness ; " I have 
 Bpoken too boldly : not till I am completely cured do 
 I call you to the field." 
 
 Then Edwald took up the gauntlet joyfully : he 
 
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 
 
 229 
 
 knelt once more before Hildegardis, who, turning 
 away her face, gave him her fair hand to kiss, and 
 walked, with his arm in that of his noble Danisb 
 friend, out of the hall. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 While Froda's wounds were healing, Edwald 
 would sometimes wander, when the shades of even- 
 ing fell dark and silent around, on the flowery ter- 
 races beneath the windows of Hildegardis, and sing 
 pleasant little songs ; amongst others the following . 
 
 " Heal fast, heal fast, ye hero-wounds ; 
 knight, be quickly strong ; 
 Beloved strife 
 For fame and life, 
 tarry not too long ! " 
 
 But that one which the maidens of the castle 
 loved best to learn from him was this ; and it was 
 perhaps the longest song that Edwald had ever sung 
 in his whole life : — 
 
 • *• Would I on earth were lying, 
 
 By noble hero slain ; 
 So that love's gentle sighing 
 Breath' d me to life again! 
 
 " Would I an emperor were. 
 Of wealth and power ! 
 Would I were gathering twigs 
 In woodland bower ! 
 
 * Would that, in lone seclusion, 
 I lived a hermit's life I 
 
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 231 
 
 Would, amid wild confusion, 
 I led the battle strife ! 
 
 " would the lot were mine, 
 In bower or field, 
 To which my lady fair 
 Her smile would jdeld ! " 
 
 At this time it happened, that a man, who held 
 himself to be very wise, and who filled the office of 
 secretary to the aged guardian of Hildegardis, came 
 to the two knightly friends to propose a scheme to 
 them. His proposal, in few words, was this, that as 
 Froda could gain no advantage from his victory, he 
 might in the approaching combat suffer himself to be 
 thrown from his steed, and thus secure the lady for 
 his comrade, at the same time fulfilling the wish of 
 the emperor, which might turn to his advantage 
 hereafter in many ways. 
 
 At this the two friends at first laughed heartily ; 
 but then Froda advanced gravely towards the secre- 
 tary, and said, " Thou trifler, doubtless the Old duke 
 would drive thee from his service did he know of thy 
 folly, and teach thee to talk of the Emperor. Good 
 night, worthy sir ; and trust me that when Edwald 
 and I meet each other, it will be with all our heart 
 and strength." 
 
 The secretary hastened out of the room with all 
 speed, and was seen next morning to look unusually 
 pale. 
 
 Soon after this, Froda recovered from his wounds . 
 
232 ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 
 
 the course was again prepared as before, but crowded 
 by a still greater number of spectators ; and in the 
 freshness of a dewy morning the two knights ad- 
 vanced solemnly together to the combat. 
 
 " Beloved Edwald," said Froda, in a low voice, as 
 they went, " take good heed to yourself, for neither 
 this time can the victory be yours ; on that rose- 
 colored cloud appears Aslauga." 
 
 "It may be so," answered Edwald with a quiet 
 smile ; " but under the arches of that golden bower 
 shines Hildegardis, and this time she has not been 
 waited for." 
 
 The knights took their places ; the trumpets 
 sounded : the course began ; and Froda's prophecy 
 seemed to be near its fulfillment, for Edwald stag- 
 gered under the stroke of his lance, so that he let go 
 the bridle, seized the mane with both hands, and 
 thus hardly recovered his seat, whilst his high-met- 
 tled snow-white steed bore him wildly around the lists 
 without control. Hildegardis also seemed to shrink 
 at the sight ; but the youth at length reined in his 
 steed, and the second course was run. 
 
 Froda shot like lightning along the plain, and it 
 seemed as if the success of the young duke were 
 now hopeless ; but in the shock of their meeting, 
 the bold Danish steed reared, starting aside as if in 
 fear ; the rider staggered, his stroke passed harmless 
 by, and both steed and knight fell clanging to the 
 ground before the steadfast spear of Edwald, and lay 
 motionless upon the field. 
 
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 233 
 
 Edwald did now as Froda had done before. In 
 knightly wise he stood still awhile upon the spot, as 
 if waiting to see whether any other adversary were 
 there to dispute his victory ; then he sprang from 
 his steed, and flew to the assistance of his fallen 
 friend. 
 
 He strove with all his might to release him from 
 the weight of his horse ; and presently Froda came 
 to himself, rose on his feet, and raised up his charger 
 also. Then he lifted up his vizor, and greeted his 
 conqueror with a friendly smile, though his counte- 
 nance was pale. The victor bowed humbly, almost 
 timidly, and said, " You, my knight, overthrown — 
 and by me ! I understand it not." 
 
 " It was her own will," answered Froda, smiling. 
 " Come now to your gentle bride." 
 
 The multitude around shouted aloud, each lady 
 and knight bowed low, when the aged duke pointed 
 out to them the lovely pair, and at his bidding, the 
 betrothed, with soft blushes, embraced each other 
 beneath the green garlands of the golden bower. 
 
 That very day were they solemnly united in the 
 chapel of the castle, for so had Froda earnestly de- 
 sired : a journey into a far-distant land, he said, lay 
 before him, and much he wished to celebrate the 
 marriage of his friend before his departure. 
 

 T'"^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 ^la^i 
 
 
 
 CHAPTER VUL 
 
 Toe tordies were baming dear in the vanlfed 
 kails <^ llie casfle, HSd^rarfis had just left die aim 
 €i her lo?er to heffn a stately dance of eaemoi^ 
 widitiie aged dofce, when EdwaM beckoned tolw 
 oonqianion, and they went ftrtb togetlMr into tihe 
 moonlit gaidens of the castle. 
 
 « Ah, Froda, my noUe, lofty hero," exd^med £d- 
 vald after a sikncae, * were yon as happy as I am! 
 But yoor eyes vest grxivly and Aoi^^fatlHlly on tfie 
 groond, »- Mndle almost impofienlly heavranruds. 
 It voold be dreadfid, indeed, had the secret wish of 
 your heart been to win SSQd^ardis, and I, feofiA 
 boy, so strangely ferored, had stood in your way.* 
 
 <" Be at rest Edchen," answered the Danish hero 
 widi a sndle. *Qn the word of a kn^ht, n^ 
 thoi^^its and yeanni^ coneon not your £iir l^de- 
 gar£s. Far I n side r than erer does Aslanga's va- 
 cant ima^ shine into my heart: hot now hear what 
 I am goii^ to refate to yon. 
 
 'At the veiy moment when we met together in 
 the coarse — oh, had I words to mjir ess it to yon ! 
 — I was enwra^ied, encircled, danled fay Aslangiifs 
 golden tresses^ irfdch were waving all 
 
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. _ : 
 
 Even my noble steed mart hsTe beheld the appaii- 
 ^oa, for I felt him start and rear mider me. I saw 
 you no more, — the world no more, — I saw oidj 
 the aagd-^oe of Aslauga close before me, smil- 
 Bi^UooiDing like a flower in a sea of «iipa>»iny 
 wiiidi floated roond her. My senses &iled me. Not 
 tin JOB raised me from beoeadi my horse, did my 
 ecmscioasiiess return, and then I knew, with exceed- 
 ing joy, that her own gi aci mi fc ^ikasiin.!! had stmck 
 me down. But I felt a Strang w eaiinena » fir gi e atef 
 than my £dl alone could have caused, and I felt as- 
 sured at the same time that my lady was about to 
 send me on a fir-diilant liiHinn I hastened to i«» 
 pOK fliyself in my chaoib»', and a deep sleep im- 
 mefiafeeiy fell upon me. Hien came A^mga in a 
 dicam to me, more royally adoraed iham ever ; die 
 I^aoed heisdf at the head of my cooeh, and said, 
 < Haste to array thyself in all the sftkatdtar of thy 
 sUTer armor, fer thou art not the wedding-guest 
 alone, tkoa art also the ^ — 
 
 ' JumI b^ne siie could ^leak €t»e word, my dream 
 had minted away, and I felt a longii^ desire to fulfill 
 her gTMaotts command, and r^oioed in my heart. 
 But in die midst of the festival, I seemed to mys^ 
 msve loudly than in all my fife befi»e, and I camot 
 cease to pander what that un^okoi wwd (^ my lady 
 soold be intended to announce.* 
 
 « You are of a fir lofiier spmt than I am, Froda,** 
 aid Edwald after a slence, ''and I cannot soar with 
 you into the sphere of your joys. But tell me, has it 
 
236 ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 
 
 never awakened a deep pang within you that you 
 serve a lady so withdrawn from you — alas ! a lady 
 who is almost ever invisible ? " 
 
 " No, Edwald, not so," answered Froda, his eyes 
 sparkling with happiness. " For well I know that 
 she scorns not my service ; she has even deigned 
 sometimes to appear to me. Oh, I am in truth a 
 happy knight and minstrel ! " 
 
 " And yet your silence to-day — your troubled 
 yearnings ? " 
 
 " Not troubled, dear Edchen ; only so heartfelt, so 
 fervent in the depth of my heart, — and so strangely 
 mysterious to myself withal. But this, with all be- 
 longing to me, springs alike from the words and 
 commands of Aslauga. How, then, can it be other- 
 wise than something good and fair, and tending to a 
 high and noble aim ? " 
 
 A squire, who had hastened after them, announced 
 that the knightly bridegroom was expected for the 
 torch-dance ; and as they returned, Edwald entreated 
 his friend to take his place in the solemn dance next 
 to him and Hildegardis. Froda inclined his head in 
 token of friendly assent. 
 
 The horns and hautboys had already sounded 
 their solemn invitation ; Edwald hastened to give his 
 hand to his fair bride ; and while he advanced with 
 her to the midst of the stately hall, Froda offered 
 his hand for the torch-dance to a noble lady who 
 Btood the nearest to him, without farther observing 
 
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 237 
 
 her, and took with her the next place to the wedded 
 pair. 
 
 But how was it when a light began to beam from 
 his companion, before which the torch in his left 
 hand lost all its brightness ? Hardly dared he, in 
 sweet and trembling hope, to raise his eyes to the 
 lady ; and when at last he ventured, all his boldest 
 wishes and longings were fulfilled.^ Adorned with 
 a radiant bridal crown of emeralds, Aslauga moved 
 in solemn loveliness beside him, and beamed on him 
 from amid the sunny light of her golden hair, blessing 
 him with her heavenly countenance. The amazed 
 spectators could not withdraw their eyes from the 
 mysterious pair — the knight in his light silver mail, 
 with the torch raised on high in his hand, earnest 
 and joyful, moving with a measured step, as if en- 
 gaged in a ceremony of deep and mysterious mean- 
 ing. His lady beside him, rather floating than 
 dancing, beaming light from her golden hair, so that 
 you would have thought the day was shining into 
 the night ; and when a look could reach through all 
 the surrounding splendor to her face, rejoicing heart 
 and sense with the unspeakably sweet smile of her 
 eyes and lips. 
 
 Near the end of the dance, she inclined towards 
 Froda and whispered to him with an air of tender 
 confidence, and with the last sound of the horns and 
 hautboys she had disapeared. 
 
 1 See the Baron de la Motte Fouqu^'s Waldemar, — 
 
 " Let none henceforward shrink from daring dreams, 
 For earnest hearts shall find their dreams fulfilled ' 
 
238 ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 
 
 The most curious spectator dared not questior 
 Froda about his partner. Hildegardis did not seem 
 to have been conscious of her presence ; but shortly 
 before the end of the festival, Edwald approached 
 his friend, and asked in a whisper, '' Was it ? " 
 
 " Yes, dear youth," answered Froda ; " your mar- 
 riage-dance has been honored by the presence of the 
 most exalted beauty which has been ever beheld in 
 any land. Ah! and if I rightly understood her 
 meaning, you will never more see me stand sighing 
 and gazing upon the ground. But hardly dare I 
 hope it. Now good-night, dear Edchen, good-night. 
 As soon as I may, I will tell you all." 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 The light and joyous dreams of morning still 
 played round Edwald's head, when it seemed as 
 though a clear light encompassed him. He re- 
 membered Aslauga ; but it was Froda, the golden 
 locks of whose helmet shone now with no less sunny 
 brightness than the flowing hair of his lady. " Ah ! " 
 thought Edwald, in his dream, " how beautiful has 
 my dear brother in arms become ! " And Froda 
 said to him, " I will sing something to you, Edchen ; 
 but softly, so that it may not awaken Hildegardis. 
 Listen to me. 
 
 " * She glided in, bright as the day, 
 
 There where her knight in slumber lay; 
 And in her lily hand was seen 
 A band that seemed of the moonlight sheen, 
 " We are one," she sang, as about his hair 
 She twin'd it, and over her tresses fair. 
 Beneath them the world lay dark and drear : 
 But he felt the touch of her hand so dear, 
 Uplifting him far above mortals' sight, 
 While around him were shed her locks of light, 
 Till a garden fair lay about him spread — 
 And this was Paradise, angels said.' " 
 
 " Never in your life did you sing so sweetly," said 
 the dreaming Edwald. 
 
240 ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT. 
 
 " That may well be, Edchen," said Froda, with a 
 smile, and vanished. 
 
 But Edwald dreamed on and on, and many other 
 visions passed before him, all of a pleasing kind, 
 although he could not recall them, when, in the full 
 light of morning, he unclosed his eyes with a smile. 
 Froda alone, and his mysterious song, stood clear in 
 his memory. He now knew full well that his friend 
 was dead ; but the thought gave him no pain, for he 
 felt sure that the pure spirit of that minstrel warrior 
 could only find its proper joy in the gardens of Para- 
 dise, and in blissful solace with the lofty spirits of 
 the ancient times. He glided softly from the side 
 of the sleeping Hildegardis to the chamber of the 
 departed. He lay upon his bed of rest, almost as 
 beautiful as he had appeared in the dream, and his 
 golden helmet was entwined with a wondrously shin- 
 ing lock of hair. Then Edwald made a fair and 
 shady grave in consecrated ground, summoned the 
 chaplain of the castle, and with his assistance laid 
 his beloved Froda therein. 
 
 He came back just as Hildegardis awoke ; she 
 beheld, with wonder and humility, his mien of chas- 
 tened joy, and asked him whither he had been so 
 early ; to which he replied, with a smile, " I have 
 just buried the corpse of my dearly loved Froda, 
 who, this very night, has passed away to his golden- 
 haired mistress." Then he related the whole history 
 of Aslauga's Knight, and lived on in subdued, unruf- 
 fled happiness, though for some time he was even 
 
ASLAUGxi'S KNIGHT. 241 
 
 more silent and thoughtful than before. He was 
 often found sitting on the grave of his friend, and 
 singing the following song to his lute : — 
 
 " Listening to celestial lays, 
 Bending thy unclouded gaze 
 On the pure and living light, 
 Thou art blest, Aslauga's Knight I 
 
 ** Send us from thy bower on high 
 Many an angel-melody, 
 Many a vision soft and bright, 
 Aslauga's dear and faithful Knight 1*' 
 
 1« 
 
SINTEAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 In the high castle of Drontheim many knights 
 sat assembled to hold council for the weal of the 
 realm ; and joyously they caroused together till mid- 
 night around the huge stone table in the vaulted 
 hall. A rising storm drove the snow wildly against 
 the rattling windows ; all the oak doors groaned, the 
 massive locks shook, the castle-clock slowly and 
 heavily struck the hour of one. Then a boy, pale as 
 death, with disordered hair and closed eyes, rushed 
 into the hall, uttering a wild scream of terror. He 
 stopped beside the richly carved seat of the mighty 
 Biorn, clung to the glittering knight with both his 
 hands, and shrieked in a piercing voice, " Knight 
 and father ! father and knight ! Death and another 
 are closely pursuing me ! " 
 
 An awful stillness lay like ice on the whole assem- 
 bly, save that the boy screamed ever the fearful 
 words. But one of Biorn's numerous retainers, an 
 old esquire, known by the name of Rolf the Good, 
 advanced towards the terrified child, took him in 
 
246 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 his arms, and half chanted this prayer : — " O 
 Father, help Thy servant ! I believe, and yet I can- 
 not believe." The boy, as if in a dream, at once 
 loosened his hold of the knight ; and the good Rolf 
 bore him from the hall unresisting, yet still shedding 
 hot tears and murmuring confused sounds. 
 
 The lords and knights looked at one anothei 
 much amazed, until the mighty Biorn said, wildly 
 and fiercely laughing, " Marvel not at that strange 
 boy. He is my only son ; and has been thus since 
 he was five years old: he is now twelve. I am 
 therefore accustomed to see him so ; though, at the 
 first, I too was disquieted by it. The attack comes 
 upon him only once in the year, and always at this 
 same time. But forgive me for having spent so 
 many words on my poor Sintrara, and let us pass on 
 to some worthier subject for our discourse." 
 
 Again there was silence for a while ; then whis- 
 peringly and doubtfully single voices strove to renew 
 their broken- off discourse, but without success. Two 
 of the youngest and most joyous began a roundelay ; 
 but the storm howled and raged so wildly without 
 that this too was soon interrupted. And now they 
 all sat silent and motionless in the lofty hall ; the 
 lamp flickered sadly under the vaulted roof; the 
 whole party of knights looked like pale, lifeless im- 
 ages dressed up in gigantic armor. 
 
 Then arose the chaplain of the castle of Dron- 
 theim, the only priest among the knightly throng, 
 and said, " Dear Lord Biorn, our eyes and thoughts 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 247 
 
 have all been directed to you and your son in a 
 wonderful manner ; but so it has been ordered by 
 the providence of God. You perceive that we can- 
 not withdraw them ; and you would do well to tell 
 us exactly what you know concerning £he fearful 
 state of the boy. Perchance the solemn tale, which 
 I expect from you, might do good to this disturbed 
 assembly." 
 
 Biorn cast a look of displeasure on the priest, and 
 answered, " Sir chaplain, you have more share in the 
 history than either you or I could desire. Excuse 
 me, if I am unwilling to trouble these light-hearted 
 warriors with so rueful a tale." 
 
 But the chaplain approached nearer to the knight, 
 and said, in a firm yet very mild tone, "Dear lord, 
 hitherto it rested with you alone to relate or not to 
 relate it ; but now that you have so strangely hinted 
 at the share which I have had in your son's calamity, 
 I must positively demand that you will repeat word 
 for word how everything came to pass. My honor 
 will have it so, and that will weigh with you as much 
 as with me." 
 
 In stern compliance Biorn bowed his haughty 
 head, and began the following narration : " This 
 time seven years I was keeping the Christmas feast 
 with my assembled followers. We have many ven- 
 erable old customs which have descended to us by 
 inheritance from our great forefathers ; as, for in- 
 stance, that of placing a gilded boar's head on the 
 table, and making thereon knightly vows of daring 
 
248 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 and wondrous deeds. Our chaplain here, who used 
 then frequently to visit me, was never a friend to 
 keeping up such traditions of the ancient heathen 
 world. Such men as he were not much in favor in 
 those olden times." 
 
 "My excellent predecessors," interrupted the 
 chaplain, "^ belonged more to God than to the world, 
 and with Him they were in favor. Thus they con- 
 verted your ancestors ; and if I can in like manner 
 be of service to you, even your jeering will not vex 
 me." 
 
 With looks yet darker, and a somewhat angry 
 shudder, the knight resumed : " Yes, yes, I know all 
 your promises and threats of an invisible Power, and 
 how they are meant to persuade us to part more 
 readily with whatever of this world's goods we may 
 possess. Once, ah, truly, once I too had such! 
 Strange ! — Sometimes it seems to me as though 
 ages had passed over since then, and as if I were 
 alone the survivor, so fearfully is everything changed. 
 But now I bethink me, that the greater part of this 
 noble company knew me in my happiness, and have 
 seen my wife, my lovely Yerena." 
 
 He pressed his hands on his eyes, and it seemed 
 as though he wept. The storm had ceased ; the 
 soft light of the moon shone through the windows, 
 and her beams played on his wild features. Sud- 
 denly he started up, so that his heavy armor rattled 
 with a fearful sound, and he cried out in a thunder- 
 ing voice, " Shall I turn monk, as she has become a 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 249 
 
 nun ? No, crafty priest ; your webs are too thin to 
 catch flies of my sort." 
 
 " I have nothing to do with webs," said the chap- 
 lain. " lu all openness and sincerity have I put 
 heaven and hell before you during the space of six 
 years ; and you gave full consent to the step which 
 the holy Yerena took. But what all that has to do 
 with your son's sufferings I know not, and I wait for 
 your narration." 
 
 " You may wait long enough," said Biorn, with a 
 sneer. " Sooner shall " — 
 
 " Swear not ! " said the chaplain in a loud, com- 
 manding tone, and his eyes flashed almost fearfully. 
 
 " Hurrah ! " cried Biorn in wild affright ; " hurra ! 
 Death and his companion are loose ! " and he dashed 
 madly out of the chamber and down the steps. The 
 rough and fearful notes of his horn were heard, sum- 
 moning his retainers ; and presently afterwards the 
 clatter of horses' feet on the frozen court- yard gave 
 token of their departure. 
 
 The knights retired, silent and shuddering ; while 
 the chaplain remained alone at the huge stone table 
 praying. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 After some time the good Rolf returned with 
 slow and soft steps, and started with surprise at find- 
 ing the hall deserted. The chamber where he had 
 been occupied in quieting and soothing the unhappy 
 child, was in so distant a part of the castle that he 
 had heard nothing of the knight's hasty departure. 
 The chaplain related to him all that had passed, and 
 then said, " But my good Rolf, I much wish to ask 
 you concerning those strange words with which you 
 Seemed to lull poor Sintram to rest. They sounded 
 like sacred words, and no doubt they are ; but I 
 could not understand them. ' I believe, and yet I 
 cannot believe.' " 
 
 " Reverend sir," answered Rolf, " I remember that 
 from my earliest years no history in the gospels has 
 taken such hold of me as that of the child possessed 
 with a devil, which the disciples were not able to 
 cast out ; but when our Saviour came down from the 
 mountain where He had been transfigured. He 
 broke the bonds wherewith the evil spirit had held 
 the miserable child bound. I always felt as if I 
 must have known and loved that boy, and been his 
 playfellow in his happy days ; and when I grew 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 251 
 
 older, then the distress of the father on account of 
 his lunatic son lay heavy at my heart. It must surely 
 have all been a foreboding of our poor young Lord 
 Sintram, whom I love as if he were my own child ; 
 and now the words of the weeping father in the 
 gospel often come into my mind, — ' Lord, I believe ; 
 help Thou my unbelief; ' and something similar I 
 may very likely have repeated to-day as a chant or 
 a prayer. Reverend father, when I consider how 
 one dreadful imprecation of the father has kept its 
 withering hold on the son, all seems dark before me; 
 but, God be praised ! my faith and my hope remain 
 above." 
 
 " Good Rolf," said the priest, " I cannot clearly 
 understand what you say about the imhappy Sin- 
 tram ; for I do not know when and how this affliction 
 came upon him. If no oath or solemn promise 
 bind you to secrecy, will you make known to me all 
 that is connected with it ? " 
 
 " Most willingly," replied Rolf " I have long 
 desired to have an opportunity of so doing ; but you 
 have been almost always separated from us. I dare 
 not now leave the sleeping boy any longer alone ; 
 and to-morrow, at the earliest dawn, I must take him 
 to his father. Will you come with me, dear sir, to 
 our poor Sintram ? " 
 
 The chaplain at once took up the small lamp 
 which Rolf had brought with him, and they set off 
 together through the long vaulted passages. In the 
 small distant chamber they found the poor boy fast 
 
252 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANION'S. 
 
 asleep. The light of the lamp fell strangely on his 
 very pale face. The chaplain stood gazing at him 
 for some time, and at length said : " Certainly 
 from his birth his features were always sharp and 
 strongly marked, but now they are almost fearfully 
 so for such a child ; and yet no one can help having 
 a kindly feeling towards him, whether he will or 
 not." 
 
 " Most true, dear sir,." answered Rolf. And it was 
 evident how his whole heart rejoiced at any word 
 which betokened affection for his beloved young 
 lord. Thereupon he placed the lamp where its light 
 could not disturb the boy, and seating himself close 
 by the priest, he began to speak in the following 
 terms : " During that Christmas feast of which my 
 lord was talking to you, He and his followers dis- 
 coursed much concerning the German merchants, 
 and the best means of keeping down the increasing 
 pride and power of the trading towns. At length 
 Biorn laid his impious hand on the golden boar's 
 head, and swore to put to death without mercy every 
 German trader whom fate, in what way soever, 
 might bring alive into his power. The gentle Ve- 
 rena turned pale, and would have interposed but 
 it was too late ; the bloody word was uttered. And 
 immediately afterwards, as though the great enemy 
 of souls were determined at once to secure with 
 fresh bonds the vassal thus devoted to him, a warder 
 came into the hall to announce that two citizens of a 
 trading town in Germany, an old man and his son, 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 253 
 
 had been shipwrecked on this coast, and were now 
 without the gates, asking hospitality of the lord of 
 the castle. The knight could not refrain from shud- 
 dering ; but he thought himself bound by his rash 
 vow and by that accursed heathenish golden boar. 
 We, his retainers, were commanded to assemble in 
 the castle yard, armed with sharp spears, which were 
 to be hurled at the defenseless strangers at the first 
 signal made to us. For the first, and I trust the 
 ^ast time in my life, I said ' No ' to the commands of 
 my lord ; and that I said in a loud voice, and with 
 die heartiest determination. The Almighty, who 
 alone knows whom He will accept, and whom He 
 will reject, armed me with resolution and strength. 
 And Biorn might perceive whence the refusal of his 
 faithful old servant arose, and that it was worthy of 
 respect. He said to me, half in anger and half in 
 scorn : * Go up to my wife's apartments : her attend- 
 ants are running to and fro ; perhaps she is ill. Go 
 up, Rolf the Good, I say to thee, and so women shall 
 be with women.' I thought to myself, 'Jeer on, 
 then;* and I went silently the way that he had 
 pointed out to me. On the stairs there -met me two 
 strange and right fearful beings, whom I had never 
 seen before ; and I know not how they got into the 
 castle. One of them was a great, tall man, fright- 
 fully pallid and thin; the other was a dwarf-like 
 man, with a most hideous countenance and features. 
 Indeed, when I collected my thoughts and looked 
 carefully at him, it appeared to me" — 
 
254 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 . Low meanings and convulsive movements of the 
 boy here interrupted the narrative. Rolf and the 
 chaplain hastened to his bed-side, and perceived 
 that his countenance wore an expression of fearful 
 agony, and that he was struggling in vain to open his 
 eyes. The priest made the sign of the cross over 
 him. and immediately peace seemed to be restored, 
 and his sleep again became quiet : they both re- 
 turned softly to their seats. 
 
 " You see," said Rolf, " that it will not do to de- 
 scribe more closely those two awful beings. Suffice 
 it to say, that they went down into the court-yard, 
 and that I proceeded to my lady's apartments. I 
 found the gentle Verena almost fainting with terror 
 and overwhelming anxiety, and I hastened to restore 
 her with some of those remedies which I was able 
 to apply by my skill, through God's gift and the 
 healing virtues of herbs and minerals. But scarcely 
 had she recovered her senses, when, with that calm, 
 holy power which, as you know, is hers, she desired 
 me to conduct her down to the court-yard, saying 
 that she must either put a stop to the fearful doings 
 of this night, or herself fall a sacrifice. Our way 
 took us by the little bed of the sleeping Sintram. 
 Alas ! hot tears fell from my eyes to see how evenly 
 his gentle breath then came and went, and how 
 sweetly he smiled in his peaceful slumbers." 
 
 The old man put his hands to his eyes, and wept 
 bitterly ; but soon he resumed his sad story. " As 
 we approached the lowest window of the staircase, 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 255 
 
 we could hear distinctly the voice of the elder mer- 
 chant ; and on looking out, the light of the torches 
 showed me his noble features, as well as the bright, 
 youthful countenance of his son. ' I take Almighty 
 God to witness,' cried he, ' that I had no evil thought 
 against this house ! But surely I must have fallen 
 unawares amongst heathens ; it cannot be that I am 
 in a Christian knight's castle ; and if you are indeed 
 heathens, then kill us at once. And thou, my be- 
 loved son, be patient and of good courage ; in 
 heaven we shall learn wherefore it could not be 
 otherwise.' I thought I could see those two fear- 
 ful ones amidst the throng of retainers. The pale 
 one had a huge curved sword in his hand, the lit- 
 tle one held a spear notched in a strange fashion. 
 Verena tore open the window, and cried in silvery 
 tones through the wild night, ' My dearest lord and 
 husband, for the sake of your only child, have pity 
 on those harmless men ! Save them from death, and 
 resist the temptation of the evil spirit' The knight 
 answered in his fierce wrath — but I cannot repeat 
 his words. He staked his child on the desperate 
 cast ; he called Death and the Devil to see that he 
 kept his word : but hush ! the boy is again moan- 
 ing. Let me bring the dark tale quickly to a close. 
 Biorn commanded his followers to strike, casting on 
 them those fierce looks which have gained him the 
 title of Biorn of the Fiery Eyes ; while at the same 
 time the two frightful strangers bestirred themselves 
 very busily. Then Verena called out, with piercing 
 
256 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 anguish, ' Help, O Grod, my Saviour ! ' Those two 
 dreadful figures disappeared ; and the knight and 
 his retainers, as if seized with blindness, rushed 
 wildly one against the other, but without doing in- 
 jury to themselves, or yet being able to strike the 
 merchants, who ran so close a risk. They bowed 
 reverently towards Verena, and with calm thanks- 
 givings departed through the castle gates, which at 
 that moment had been burst open by a violent gust 
 of wind, and now gave a free passage to any who 
 would go forth. The lady and I were yet standing 
 bewildered on the stairs, when I fancied I saw the 
 two fearful forms glide close by me, but mist-like 
 and unreal. Verena called to me : ' Rolf, did you 
 see a tall pale man, and a little hideous one with 
 him, pass just now up the staircase ? ' I flew after 
 them; and found, alas, the poor boy in the same 
 state in which you saw him a few hours ago. Ever 
 since, the attack has come on him regularly at 
 this time, and he is in all respects fearfully changed. 
 The lady of the castle did not fail to discern the 
 avenging hand of Heaven in this calamity ; and as 
 the knight, her husband, instead of repenting, ever 
 became more truly Biorn of the Fiery Eyes, she 
 resolved, in the walls of a cloister, by unremitting 
 prayer, to obtain mercy in time and eternity for her- 
 self and her unhappy child." 
 
 Rolf was silent ; and the chaplain, after some 
 thought, said : " I now understand why, six y6ars 
 ago, Biorn confessed his guilt to me in general words, 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 257 
 
 and consented that his wife should take the veil. 
 Some faint compunction must then have stirred 
 within him, and perhaps* may stir him yet. At any 
 rate it was impossible that so tender a flower as Ve- 
 rena could remain longer in so rough keeping. But 
 who is there now to watch over and protect our poor 
 Sintram?" 
 
 " The prayer of his mother," answered Rolf. 
 " Reverend sir, when the first dawn of day appears, 
 as it does now, and when the morning breeze whis- 
 pers through the glancing window, they ever bring to 
 my mind the soft beaming eyes of my lady, and I 
 again seem to hear the sweet tones of her voice. 
 The holy Verena is, next to God, our chief aid." 
 
 " And let us add our devout supplications to the 
 Lord," said the chaplain ; and he and Rolf knelt in 
 silent and earnest prayer by the bed of the pale suf- 
 ferer, who began to smile in his dreams. 
 
 17 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 The rays of the sun shining brightly into the 
 room awoke Sintram, and raising himself up, he 
 looked angrily at the chaplain, and said, " So there 
 is a priest in the castle ! And yet that accursed 
 dream continues to torment me even in his very 
 presence. Pretty priest he must be ! " 
 
 *' My child," answered the chaplain in the mildest 
 tones, " I have prayed for thee most fervently, and I 
 shall never cease doing so — but God alone is Al- 
 mighty." 
 
 " You speak very boldly to the son of the knight 
 Biorn," cried Sintram. " ' My child ! ' If those hor- 
 rible dreams had not been again haunting me, you 
 would make me laugh heartily." 
 
 " Young Lord Sintram," said the chaplain, " I am 
 by no means surprised that you do not know me 
 again ; for, in truth, neither do I know you again." 
 And his eyes filled with tears as he spoke. 
 
 The good Rolf looked sorrowfully in the boy's 
 face, saying, " Ah, my dear young master, you are 
 so much better than you would make people be- 
 lieve. Why do you that ? Your memory is so good, 
 that you must surely recollect your kind old friend 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 259 
 
 the chaplain, who used formerly to be constantly at 
 the castle, and to bring you so many gifts — bright 
 pictures of saints, and beautiful songs ? " 
 
 " I know all that very well," replied Sintram, 
 thoughtfully. " My sainted mother was alive in those 
 days." 
 
 " Our gracious lady is still living, God be praised ! " 
 said the good Rolf. 
 
 " But she does not live for us, poor sick creatures 
 that we are ! " cried Sintram. " And why will you 
 not call her sainted? Surely she knows nothing 
 about my dreams ? " 
 
 " Yes, she does know of them," said the chaplain ; 
 " and she prays to God for you. But take heed, and 
 restrain that wild, haughty temper of yours. It 
 might, indeed, come to pass that she would know 
 nothing about your dreams, and that would be if your 
 soul were separated from your body ; and then the 
 holy angels also would cease to know anything of 
 you." 
 
 Sintram fell back on his bed as if thunderstruck ; 
 and Rolf said, with a gentle sigh, " You should not 
 speak so severely to my poor sick child, reverend 
 sir." 
 
 The boy sat up, and with tearful eyes he turned 
 caressingly towards the chaplain: "Let him do as 
 he pleases, you good, tender-hearted Rolf; he knows 
 very w^ell what he is about. Would you reprove him 
 if I were slipping down a snow-cleft, and he caught 
 me up roughly by the hair of my head ? " 
 
260 SINTKAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 The priest looked tenderly at him, and would have 
 spoken his holy thoughts, when Sintram suddenly 
 sprang off the bed and asked after his father. As 
 soon as he heard of the knight's departure, he would 
 not remain another hour in the castle ; and put aside 
 the fears of the chaplain and the old esquire, lest 
 a rapid journey should injure his hardly restored 
 health, by saying to them, " Believe me, reverend 
 sir, and dear old Rolf, if I were not subject to these 
 hideous dreams, there would not be a bolder youth 
 in the whole world ; and even as it is, I am not so 
 far behind the very best. Besides, till another year 
 has passed, my dreams are at an end." 
 
 On his somewhat imperious sign, Rolf brought out 
 the horses. The boy threw himself boldly into the 
 saddle, and taking a courteous leave of the chaplain, 
 he dashed along the frozen valley that lay between 
 the snow-clad mountains. He had not ridden far, 
 in company with his old attendant, when he heard a 
 strange, indistinct sound proceeding from a neighbor- 
 ing cleft in the rock ; it was partly like the clapper 
 of a small mill, but mingled with that were hollow 
 groans and other tones of distress. Thither they 
 turned their horses, and a wonderful sight showed 
 itself to them. 
 
 A tall man, deadly pale, in a pilgrim's garb, was 
 striving, with violent though unsuccessful efforts, to 
 work his way out of the snow and to climb up the 
 mountain ; and thereby a quantity of bones, which 
 were hanging loosely all about his garments, rattled 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 2dl 
 
 one against the other, and caused the mysterious 
 sound already mentioned. Rolf, much terrified, 
 crossed himself, while the bold Sintram called out to 
 the stranger, " What art thou doing there ? Give 
 an account of thy solitary labors." 
 
 " I live in death," replied the other one with a fear- 
 ful grin. 
 
 " Whose are those bones on thy clothes ? " 
 
 " They are relics, young sir." 
 
 " Art thou a pilgrim ? " 
 
 " Restless, quietless, I wander up and down." 
 
 " Thou must not perish here in the snow before 
 my eyes." 
 
 " That I will not." 
 
 " Thou must come up and sit on my horse." 
 
 " That I will." And all at once he started up out 
 of the snow with surprising strength and agility, and 
 sat on the horse behind Sintram, clasping him tight 
 in his long arms. The horse, startled by the rattling 
 of the bones, and as if seized with madness, rushed 
 away through the most trackless passes. The boy 
 soon found himself alone with his strange compan- 
 ion ; for Rolf, breathless with fear, spurred on his 
 horse in vain, and remained far behind them. From 
 a snowy precipice the horse slid, without falling, into 
 a narrow gorge, somewhat indeed exhausted, yet 
 continuing to snort and foam as before, and still un- 
 mastered by the boy. Yet his headlong course 
 Deing now changed into a rough, irregular trot, Sin- 
 tram was able to breathe more freely, and to begin 
 
262 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 the following discourse with his unknown compan- 
 ion : — 
 
 " Draw thy garment closer around thee, thou pale 
 man, so the bones will not rattle, and I shall be able 
 to curb my horse." 
 
 " It would be of no avail, boy ; it would be of no 
 avail. The bones must rattle." 
 
 " Do not clasp me so tight with thy long arms ; 
 they are so cold." 
 
 " It cannot be helped, boy ; it cannot be helped. 
 Be content. For my long, cold arms are not press- 
 ing yet on thy heart." 
 
 " Do not breathe on me so with thy icy breath. 
 All my strength is departing." 
 
 " I must breathe, boy ; I must breathe. But do 
 not complain. I am not blowing thee away." 
 
 The strange dialogue here came to an end ; for to 
 Sintram's surprise he found himself on an open 
 plain, over which the sun was shining brightly, and 
 at no great distance before him he saw his father's 
 castle. While he was thinking whether he might 
 invite the unearthly pilgrim to rest there, this one 
 put an end to his doubts by throwing himself sud- 
 denly off the horse, whose wild course was checked 
 by the shock. Raising his forefinger, he said to the 
 boy, " I know old Biorn of the Fiery Eyes well ; 
 perhaps but too well. Commend me to him. It 
 A^ill not need to tell him my name ; he will recognize ' 
 me at the description.' So saying, the ghastly stran- 
 ger turned aside into a thick fir-wood, and disap- 
 peared rattlino- aiiiongst the tangled branches. 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 263 
 
 Slowly and thoughtfully Sintram rode on towards 
 his father's castle, his horse now again quiet and 
 altogether exhausted. He scarcely knew how much 
 he ought to relate of his wonderful journey, and he 
 also felt oppressed with anxiety for the good Rolf, 
 who had remained so far behind. He found himself 
 at the castle gate sooner than he had expected ; the 
 drawbridge was lowered, the doors were thrown 
 open ; an attendant led the youth into the great hall, 
 where Biorn was sitting all alone at a huge table, 
 with many flagons and glasses before him, and suits 
 of armor ranged on either side of him. It was his 
 daily custom, by way of company, to have the armor 
 of his ancestors, with closed visors, placed all round 
 the table at which he sat. The father and son began 
 conversing as follows : — 
 
 "Where is Rolf?" 
 
 " I do not know, father ; he left me in the moun- 
 tains." 
 
 " I will have Rolf shot, if he cannot take better 
 care than that of my only child." 
 
 " Then father, you will have your only child shot 
 at the same time, for without Rolf I cannot live; 
 and if even one single dart is aimed at him, I will 
 be there to receive it, and to shield his true and 
 faithful heart." 
 
 "So!— Then Rolf shall not be shot; but he 
 'ihall be driven from the castle." 
 
 " In that case, father, you will see me go away 
 also ; and I will give myself up to serve him in for- 
 
264 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 " So ! — Well, then, Rolf must remain here.** 
 
 ^ That is just what I think, father." 
 
 " "Were you riding quite alone ? " 
 
 " No, father ; but with a strange pilgrim. He said 
 that he knew you very well — perhaps too well.'* 
 And thereupon Sintram began to relate and to de- 
 scribe all that had passed with the pale man. 
 
 " I know him also very well," said Biorn. " He is 
 half crazed and half wise, as we sometimes are as- 
 tonished at seeing that people can be. But do thou, 
 my boy, go to rest after thy wild journey. I give 
 you my word that Rolf shall be kindly received if he 
 arrive here ; and that if he do not come soon, he 
 shall be sought for in the mountains." 
 
 " I trust to your word, father," said Sintram, half 
 humble, half proud ; and he did after the command 
 of the grim lord of the castle. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Towards evening Sintram awoke. He saw the 
 good Rolf sitting at his bedside, and looked up in 
 the old man's kind face with a smile of unusually 
 innocent brightness. But soon again his dark brows 
 were knit, and he asked, " How did my father re- 
 ceive you, Rolf ? Did he say a harsh word to you ! " 
 
 " No, my dear young lord, he did not ; indeed he 
 did not speak to me at all. At first he looked very 
 wrathful ; but he checked himself, and ordered a 
 servant to bring me food and wine to refresh me, 
 and afterwards to take me to your room." 
 
 " He might have kept his word better. But he is 
 my father, and I must not judge him too hardly. I 
 will now go down to the evening meal." So saying, 
 he sprang up and threw on his furred mantle. 
 
 But Rolf stopped him, and said, entreatingly : 
 " My dear young master, you would do better to take 
 your meal to-day alone here in your own apartment ; 
 for there is a guest with your father, in whose com- 
 pany I should be very sorry to see you. If you will 
 remain here, I will entertain you with pleasant tales 
 and songs." 
 
 " There is nothing in the world which I should 
 
266 sinTram and his companions. 
 
 like better, dear Rolf,'* answered Sintram ; " but it 
 does not befit me to shun any man. Tell me, whom 
 should I find with my father ? " 
 
 " Alas ! " said the old man, " you have already 
 found him in the mountain. Formerly, when I used 
 to ride about the country with Biorn, we often met 
 with him, but I was forbidden to tell you anything 
 about him ; and this is the first time that he has 
 ever come to the castle." 
 
 " The crazy pilgrim ! " rejjlied Sintram ; and he 
 stood awhile in deep thought, as if considering the 
 matter. At last, rousing himself, he said: "Dear 
 old friend, I would most willingly stay here this 
 evening all alone with you and your stories and 
 songs, and all the pilgrims in the world should not 
 entice me from this quiet room. But one thing must 
 be considered. I feel a kind of dread of that pale, 
 tall man ; and by such fears no knight's son can 
 ever suffer himself to be overcome. So be not an- 
 gry, dear Rolf, if I determine to go and look that 
 strange palmer in the face." And he shut the door 
 of the chamber behind him, and with firm and 
 echoing steps proceeded to the hall. 
 
 The pilgrim and the knight were sitting opposite 
 to each other at the great table, on which many 
 lights were burning ; and it was fearful, amongst all 
 the lifeless armor, to see those two tall, grim men 
 move, and eat, and drink. 
 
 As the pilgrim looked up on the boy's entrance, 
 Biorn said : " You know him already ; he is my only 
 child, and your fellow-traveller this morning." 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 267 
 
 The palmer fixed an earnest look on Sintram, and 
 answered, shaking his head, " I know not what you 
 mean." 
 
 Then the boy burst forth, impatiently, " It must be 
 confessed that you deal very unfairly by us ! You 
 say that you know my father but too much, and now 
 it seems that you know me altogether too little. 
 Look me in the face : who allowed you to ride on his 
 horse, and in return had his good steed driven 
 almost wild ? Speak if you can ! '' 
 
 Biorn smiled, shaking his head, but well pleased, as 
 was his wont, with his son's wild behavior ; while 
 the pilgrim shuddered as if terrified and overcome 
 by some fearful, irresistible power. At length, with 
 a trembling voice, he said these words : " Yes, yes, 
 my dear young lord, you are surely quite right ; you 
 are perfectly right in everything which you may 
 please to assert." 
 
 Then the lord of the castle laughed aloud, and 
 said : " Why, thou strange pilgrim, what is become 
 of all thy wonderfully fine speeches and warnings 
 now ? Has the boy all at once struck thee dumb 
 and powerless? Beware, thou prophet-messenger, 
 beware ! " 
 
 But the palmer cast a fearful look on Biorn which 
 seemed to quench the light of his fiery eyes, and 
 said solemnly, in a thundering voice, " Between me 
 \ind thee, old man, the case stands quite otherwise. 
 We have nothing to reproach each other with. And 
 now suffer me to sing a song to you on the lute." 
 
268 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 He stretched out his hand, and took down j&"om the 
 wall a forgotten and half-strung lute, which was 
 hanging there ; and, with surprising skill and rapid- 
 ity, having put it in a state fit for use, he struck some 
 chords, and raised this song to the low melancholy 
 tones of the instrument : — 
 
 " The flow'ret was mine own, mine own, 
 But I have lost its fragrance rare, 
 And knightly name and freedom fair, 
 Through sin, through sin alone. 
 
 " The flow'ret was thine own, thine own, 
 Why cast away what thou didst win ? 
 Thou knight no more, but slave of sin, 
 Thou'rt fearfully alone 1 " 
 
 " Have a care ! " shouted he at the close in a peal- 
 ing voice, as he pulled the strings so mightily that 
 they all broke with a clanging wail, and a cloud of 
 dust rose from the old lute, which spread round him 
 like a mist. 
 
 Sintram had been watching him narrowly whilst 
 he was singing, and more and more did he feel con- 
 vinced that it was impossible that this man and his 
 fellow-traveller of the morning could be one and the 
 same. Nay, the doubt rose to certainty, when the 
 stranger again looked round at him with the same 
 timid, anxious air, and with many excuses and low 
 reverences hung the lute in its old place, and then 
 ran out of the hall as if bewildered with terror, in 
 strange contrast with the proud and stately bearing 
 which he had shown to Biorn. 
 
 The eyes of the boy were now directed to his 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 269 
 
 father, and he saw that he had sunk back senseless 
 in his seat, as if struck by a blow. Sintram's cries 
 called Rolf and other attendants into the hall ; and 
 only by great labor did their united efforts awake 
 the lord of the castle. His looks were still wild and 
 disordered ; but he allowed himself to be taken tc» 
 rest, quiet and yielding. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 An illness followed this sudden attack ; and dur- 
 ing the course of it the stout old knight, in the midst 
 of his delirious ravings, did not cease to affirm con- 
 fidently that he must and should recover. He 
 laughed proudly when his fever-fits came on, and 
 rebuked them for daring to attack him so needlessly. 
 Then he murmured to himself, " That was not the 
 right one yet ; there must still be another one out in 
 the cold mountains." 
 
 Always at such words Sintram involuntarily shud- 
 dered ; they seemed to strengthen his notion that he 
 who had ridden with him, and he who had sat at 
 table in the castle, were two quite distinct persons ; 
 and he knew not why, but this thought was inex- 
 pressibly awful to him. 
 
 Biorn recovered, and appeared to have entirely 
 forgotten his adventure with the palmer. He hunted 
 in the mountains ; he carried on his usual wild war- 
 fare with his neighbors ; and Sintram, as he grew 
 up, became his almost constant companion ; whereby 
 each year a fearful strength of body and spirit was 
 unfolded in the youth. Every one trembled at the 
 sight of his sharp, pallid features ; his dark rolling 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 271 
 
 eyes ; his tall, muscular, and somewhat lean form ; 
 and yet no one hated him — not even those whom 
 he distressed or injured in his wildest humors. 
 TJiis might arise in part out of regard to old Rolf, 
 who seldom left him for long, and who always held 
 a softening influence over him ; but also many of 
 those who had known the lady Verena while she 
 still lived in the world, affirmed that a faint reflection 
 of her heavenly expression floated over the very un- 
 like features of her son, and that by this their hearts 
 were won. 
 
 Once, just at the beginning of spring, Biorn and 
 his son were hunting in the neighborhood of the 
 sea-coast, over a tract of country which did not be- 
 long to them ; drawn thither less by the love of 
 sport than by the wish of bidding defiance to a chief- 
 tain whom they detested, and thus exciting a feud. 
 At that season of the year, when his winter dreams 
 had just passed off, Sintram was always unusually 
 fierce and disposed for warlike adventures. And 
 this day he was enraged at the chieftain for not 
 coming in arms from his castle to hinder their hunt- 
 ing ; and he cursed, in the wildest words, his tame 
 patience and love of peace. Just then one of his 
 wild young companions rushed towards him, shout- 
 ing joyfully : " Be content, my dear young lord! I 
 will wager that all is coming abofit as we and you 
 wish ; for as I was pursuing a wounded deer down 
 to the sea-shore, I saw a sail and a vessel filled with 
 armed men making for the shore. Doubtless your 
 enemy purposes to fall upon you from the coast." 
 
272 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 Joyfully and secretly Sintram called all his follow- 
 ers together, being resolved this time to take the 
 combat on himself alone, and then to rejoin his 
 father, and astonish him with the sight of captured 
 foes and other tokens of victory. 
 
 The hunters, thoroughly acquainted with every 
 cliff and rock on the coast, hid themselves round 
 the landing-place ; and soon the strange vessel hove 
 nearer with swelling sails, till at length it came to 
 anchor, and its crew began to disembark in unsus- 
 picious security. At the head of them appeared a 
 knight of high degree, in blue steel armor richly 
 inlaid with gold. His head was bare, for he carried 
 his costly golden helmet hanging on his left arm. 
 He looked royally around him ; and his countenance, 
 which dark brown locks shaded, was pleasant to be- 
 hold ; and a well-trimmed moustache fringed his 
 mouth, from which, as he smiled, gleamed forth two 
 rows of pearl-white teeth. 
 
 A feeling came across Sintram that he must 
 already have seen this knight somewhere ; and he 
 stood motionless for a few moments. But suddenly 
 he raised his hand, to make the agreed signal of at- 
 tack. In vain did the good Rolf, who had just suc- 
 ceeded in getting up to him, whisper in his ear that 
 these could not be the foes whom he had taken them 
 for, but that they were unknown, and certainly high 
 and noble strangers. 
 
 " Let them be whom they may," replied the wild 
 youth ; " they have enticed me here to wait, and they 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 273 
 
 shall pay the penalty of thus fooling me. Say not 
 another word, if you value your life." And imme- 
 diately he gave the signal, a thick shower of javelins 
 followed from all sides, and the Norwegian warriors 
 rushed forth with flashing swords. They found their 
 foes as brave, or somewhat braver, than they could 
 have desired. More fell on the side of those who 
 made than of those who received the assault; and 
 the strangers appeared to understand surprisingly 
 the Norwegian manner of fighting. The knight in 
 steel armor had not in his haste put on his helmet ; 
 but it seemed as if he in no wise needed such pro- 
 tection, for his good sword afforded him sufficient 
 defense even against the spears and darts which 
 were incessantly hurled at him, as with rapid skill 
 he received them on the shining blade, and dashed 
 them far away, shivered into fragments. 
 
 Sintram could not at the first onset penetrate to 
 where this shining hero was standing, as all his fol- 
 lowers, eager after such a noble prey, thronged 
 closely round him ; but now the way was cleared 
 enough for him to spring towards the brave stranger, 
 shouting a war-cry, and brandishing his sword above 
 his head. 
 
 " Gabrielle ! " cried the knight, as he dexterously 
 parried the heavy blow which was descending, and 
 with one powerful sword-thrust he laid the youth 
 prostrate on the ground ; then placing his knee on 
 Sintram's breast, he drew forth a flashing dagger, 
 and held it before his eyes as he lay astonished. All 
 18 
 
274 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 at once the men-at-arms stood round like walls. Sin- 
 tram felt that no hope remained for him. He de- 
 termined to die as it became a bold warrior ; and 
 without giving one sign of emotion, he looked on the 
 fatal weapon with a steady gaze. 
 
 As he lay with his eyes cast upwards, he fancied 
 that there appeared suddenly from heaven a won- 
 drously beautiful female form in a bright attire of 
 blue and gold. " Our ancestors told truly of the 
 Valkyrias," murmured he. " Strike, then, thou un- 
 known conqueror." 
 
 But with this the knight did not comply, neither 
 was it a Yalkyria who had so suddenly appeared, 
 but the beautiful wife of the stranger, who, having 
 advanced to the high edge of the vessel, had thus 
 met the upraised look of Sintram. 
 
 " Folko," cried she, in the softest tone, " thou 
 knight without reproach ! I know that thou sparest 
 the vanquished." 
 
 The knight sprang up, and with courtly grace 
 stretched out his hand to the conquered youth, say- 
 ing, " Thank the noble Lady of Montfaucon for your 
 life and liberty. But if you are so totally devoid of 
 all goodness as to wish to resume the combat, here 
 am I ; let it be yours to begin." 
 
 Sintram sank, deeply ashamed, on his knees, and 
 wept ; for he had often heard speak of the high re- 
 nown of the French knight Folko of Montfaucon, 
 who was rehited to his father's house, and of the 
 grace and beauty of his gentle lady Gabrielle. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 The Lord of Montfaiicon looked with astonishment 
 at his strange foe ; and as he gazed on him more 
 and more, recollections arose in his mind of that 
 northern race from whom he was descended, and with 
 whom he had always maintained friendly relations. 
 A golden bear's claw, with which Sintram's cloak 
 was fastened, at length made all clear to him. 
 
 " Have you not," said he, " a valiant and far-famed 
 kinsman, called the Sea-king Arinbiorn, who carries 
 on his helmet golden vulture-wings ? And is not 
 your father the knight Biorn ? For surely the bear's 
 claw on your mantle must be the cognizance of your 
 house." 
 
 Sintram assented to all this, in deep and humble 
 shame. 
 
 The knight of Montfaucon raised him from the 
 ground, and said gravely, yet gently, " We are, then, 
 of kin the one to the other ; but I could never have 
 oelieved that any one of our noble house would at- 
 tack a peaceful man without provocation, and that, 
 too, without giving warning." 
 
 " Slay me at once," answered Sintram, " if indeed 
 [ am worthy to die by so noble hands. I can no 
 longer endure the light of day." 
 
276 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 " Because you have been overcome ? " asked 
 Montfaucon. 
 
 Sintram shook his head. 
 
 " Or is it, rather, because you have committed an 
 ttnknightly action ? " 
 
 The glow of shame that overspread the youth's 
 countenance said yes to this. 
 
 " But you should not on that account wish to die," 
 continued Montfaucon. " You should rather wish to 
 live, that you may prove your repentance, and make 
 your name illustrious by many noble deeds ; for you 
 are endowed with a bold spirit and with a strength 
 of limb, and also with the eagle-glance of a chieftain. 
 I should have made you a knight this very hour, if 
 you had borne yourself as bravely in a good cause, 
 as you have just now in a bad. See to it, that I 
 may do it soon. You may yet become a vessel of 
 high honor." 
 
 A joyous sound of shawms and silver rebecks in- 
 terupted his discourse. The lady Gabrielle, bright 
 as the mornirag, had now come down from the ship, 
 surrounded by her maidens ; and instructed in a few 
 words by Fo.ko, who was his late foe, she took the 
 combat as some mere trial of arms, saying, " You 
 must not be cast down, noble youth, because my 
 wedded lord has won the prize ; for be it known to 
 you, that in the whole world there is but one knight 
 who can boast of not having been overcome by the 
 Baron of Montfaucon. And who can say," continued 
 Bhe, sportively, '' whether even ihat would have hap- 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 277 
 
 pened, had he not set himself to win back the magic 
 ring from me, his lady-love, destined to him, as well 
 by the choice C/f my own heart as by the will of 
 Heaven ! " 
 
 Folko, smiling, bent his head over the snow-white 
 hand of his lady ; and then bade the youth conduct 
 them to his father's castle. 
 
 Rolf took upon himself to see to the disembarking 
 of the horses and valuables of the strangers, filled 
 with joy at the thought that an angel in woman's 
 form had appeared to soften his beloved young 
 master, and perhaps even to free him from that early 
 curse. 
 
 Sintram sent messengers in all directions to seek 
 for his father, and to announce to him the arrival of 
 his noble guests. They therefore found the old 
 knight in his castle, with everything prepared for 
 their reception. Gabrielle could not enter the vast, 
 dark-looking building without a slight shudder, which 
 was increased when she saw the rolling fiery eyes of 
 its lord ; even the pale, dark-haired Sintram seemed 
 to her very fearful ; and she sighed to herself, " Oh, 
 what an awful abode have you brought me to visit, 
 my knight ! Would that we were once again in my 
 sunny Gascony, or in your knightly Normandy ! " 
 
 But the grave yet courteous reception, the deep 
 respect paid to her grace and beauty, and to the high 
 fame of Folko, helped to reassure her ; and soon 
 aer bird-like pleasure in novelties was awakened 
 through the strange significant appearances of this 
 
278 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 new world. And besides, it could only be for a pass- 
 ing moment that any womanly fears found a place 
 in her breast when her lord was near at hand, for 
 well did she know what effectual protection that 
 brave baron was ever ready to afford to all those 
 v^ho were dear to him, or committed to his charge. 
 
 Soon afterwards Rolf passed through the great 
 hall in w^hich Biorn and his guests were seated, con- 
 ducting their attendants, who had charge of the bag- 
 gage, to their rooms. Gabrielle caught sight of her 
 favorite lute, and desired a page to bring it to her, 
 that she might see if the precious instrument had 
 been injured by the sea- voyage. As she bent over 
 it with earnest attention, and her taper fingers ran 
 up and down the strings, a smile, like the dawn of 
 spring, passed over the dark countenances of Biorn 
 and his son ; and both said, with an involuntary 
 sigh, " Ah, if you would but play on that lute, and 
 sing to it ! It would be but too beautiful ! " The 
 lady looked up at them, well pleased, and smiling 
 her assent, she began this song : — 
 
 " Songs and flowers are returning, 
 And radiant skies of May, 
 Earth her choicest gifts is yielding, 
 But one is past aAvay. 
 
 *' The spring that clothes with tend'rest green 
 Each grove and sunny plain, 
 Shines not for my forsaken heart, — 
 Brings not my joys again. 
 
 "Warble not so, thou nightingale, 
 Upon th}'- blooming spray, 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 279 
 
 Thy sweetness now will burst my heart, 
 I cannot bear thy lay. 
 
 " For jQiowers and birds are come again, 
 And breezes mild of May, 
 But treasured hopes and golden hours 
 Are lost to me for aye ! " 
 
 The two Norwegians sat plunged in melancholy 
 thought ; but especially Sintram's eyes began to 
 brighten with a milder expression, his cheeks glowed, 
 every feature softened, till those who looked at him 
 could have fancied they saw a glorified spirit. The 
 good Rolf, who had stood listening to the song, re- 
 joiced thereat from his heart, and devoutly raised 
 his hands in pious gratitude to Heaven. But Ga- 
 brielle's astonishment suffered her not to take her 
 eyes from Sintram. At last she said to him, "I 
 should much like to know what has so struck y9u in 
 that little song, li is merely a simple lay of the 
 spring, full of the images which that sweet season 
 never fails to call up in the minds of my country- 
 men." 
 
 "But is your home really so lovely, so won- 
 drously rich in song ? " cried the enraptured Sin- 
 tram. " Then I am no longer surprised at your 
 heavenly beauty, at the power which you exercise 
 over my hard, wayward heart ! For a paradise of 
 Bong must surely send such angelic messengers 
 :;h rough the ruder parts of the world." And so say- 
 ing, he fell on his knees before the lady in an atti- 
 tude of deep humility. Folko looked on all the while 
 
280 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 with an approving smile, whilst Gabrielle, in much 
 embarrassment, seemed hardly to know how to treat 
 the half-wild, half-tamed yomig stranger. After 
 some hesitation, however, she held out her fair hand 
 to him, and said as she gently raised him : " Surely 
 one who listens with such delight to music must him- 
 self know how to awaken its strains. Take my lute, 
 and let us hear a graceful inspired song." 
 
 But Sintram drew back, and would not take the 
 instrument ; and he said, " Heaven forbid that my 
 rough untutored hand should touch those delicate 
 strings ! For even were I to begin with some soft 
 strains, yet before long the wild spirit which dwells 
 in me would break out, and there would be an end 
 of the form and sound of the beautiful instrument. 
 No, no ; suffer me rather to fetch my own huge harp, 
 strung with bears' sinews set in brass, for in truth 
 I do feel myself inspired to play and sing." 
 
 Gabrielle murmured a half-frightened assent ; and 
 Sintram having quickly brought his harp, began to 
 strike it loudly, and to sing these words with a voice 
 no less powerful : — 
 
 " ' Sir knight, sir knight, oh ! whither away 
 
 With thy snow-white sail on the foaming spray? ' 
 Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers I 
 
 ** * Too long have I trod upon ice and snow ; 
 I seek the bowers where roses blow.' 
 
 Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers ! 
 
 " He steer'd on his course by night and day 
 Till he east his anciior in Naples Bay. 
 
 Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers! 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 281 
 
 " There wander' d a lady upon the strand, 
 Her fair hair bound with a golden band. 
 Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers! 
 
 " ' Hail to thee ! hail to thee ! lady bright, 
 Mine own shalt thou l>e ere morning light.' 
 Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers I 
 
 " ' Not so, sir knight,' the lady replied, 
 * For you speak to the margrave's chosen bride.* 
 Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers 1 
 
 " ' Your lover may come with his shield and spear, 
 And the victor shall win thee, lady dear! * 
 Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers ! 
 
 " * Nay, seek for another bride, I pray; 
 Most fair are the maidens of Naples Bay.' 
 Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers ! 
 
 " ' No, lady ; for thee my heart doth burn, 
 And the world cannot now my purpose turn.' 
 Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers! 
 
 " Then came the young margrave, bold and brave; 
 But low was he laid in a grassy grave. 
 Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers I 
 
 "And then the fierce Northman joyously cried, 
 ' Now shall I possess lands, castle, and bride I ' 
 Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers I 
 
 Sin tram's song was ended, but his eyes glared 
 wildly, and the vibrations of the harp-strings still 
 resounded in a marvelous manner. Biorn's attitude 
 was again erect ; he stroked his long beard and rat- 
 tled bis sword, as if in great delight at what he had 
 
282 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 just heard. Much shuddered Gabrielle before the 
 wild song and these strange forms, but only till she 
 cast a glance on the Lord of Montfaucon, who sat 
 there smiling in all his hero strength, unmoved, 
 while the rough uproar passed by him like an 
 autumnal storm. 
 
CHAPTER Vn. 
 
 Some weeks after this, in the twilight of even- 
 ing, Sintram, very disturbed, came down to the cas- 
 tle-garden. Although the presence of Gabrielle 
 never failed to soothe and calm him, yet if she left 
 the apartment for even a few instants, the fearful 
 wildness of his spirit seemed to return with renewed 
 strength. So even now, after having long and kindly 
 read legends of the olden times to h^ father Biorn, 
 she had retired to her chamber. The tones of her 
 lute could be distinctly heard in the garden below ; 
 but the sounds only drove the bewildered youth 
 more impetuously through the shades of the ancient 
 elms. Stooping suddenly to avoid some overhang- 
 ing branches, he unexpectedly came upon something 
 against which he had almost struck, and which, at 
 first sight, he took for a small bear standing on its 
 hind legs, with a long and strangely crooked horn 
 on it9«head. He drew back in surprise and fear. It 
 addressed him in a grating man's voice : " Well, my 
 brave young knight, whence come you ? whither go 
 you? wherefore so terrified?" And then first he 
 saw that he had before him a little old man so 
 wrapped up in a rough garment of fur, that scarcely 
 one of his features was visible, and wearing in his 
 sap a strange-looking long feather. 
 
284 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 " But whence come you ? and whither go you ? ** 
 returned the angry Sintram. " For of you such 
 questions should be asked. What have you to do in 
 our domains, you hideous Httle being ? " 
 
 " Well, well," sneered the other one, " I am think- 
 ing that I am quite big enough as I am — one can- 
 not always be a giant. And as to the rest, why 
 should you find fault that I go here hunting for 
 snails ? Surely snails do not belong to the game 
 which your high mightinesses consider that you 
 alone have a right to follow ! Now, on the other 
 hand, I know how to prepare from them an excellent 
 high-flavored drink ; and I have taken enough for 
 to-day : marvelous fat little beasts, with wise faces 
 like a man's, and long twisted horns on their heads. 
 Would you like to see them ? Look here ! " 
 
 And then he began to unfasten and fumble about 
 his fur garment ; but Sintram, filled with disgust 
 and horror, said : " Pshaw ! I detest such animals ! 
 Be quiet, and tell me at once who and what you 
 yourself are." 
 
 " Are you so bent upon knowing my name ? " re- 
 plied the little man. " Let it content you that I am 
 master of all secret knowledge, and well versed in 
 the most intricate depths of ancient history. Ah, 
 my young sir, if you would only hear them! But 
 you are afraid of me." 
 
 " Afraid of you ! " cried Sintram, with a wild 
 laugh. 
 
 " Many a better man than you has been so before 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 285 
 
 now," muttered the little Master ; " but they did not 
 like being told of it any more than you do." 
 
 " To prove that you are mistaken," said Sintram, 
 " I will remain here with you till the moon stands 
 high in the heavens. But you must tell me one of 
 your stories the while." 
 
 The little man, much pleased, nodded his head ; 
 and as they paced together up and down a retired 
 elm-walk, he began discoursing as follows : — 
 
 " Many hundred years ago a young knight, called 
 Paris of Troy, lived in that sunny land of the south 
 where are found the sweetest songs, the brightest 
 flowers, and the most beautiful ladies. You know a 
 song that tells of that fair land, do you not, young 
 sir ? ' Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers.' " 
 Sintram bowed his head in assent, and sighed deeply. 
 " Now," resumed the little Master, " it happened that 
 Paris led that kind of life which is not uncommon 
 in those countries, and of which their poets often 
 sing : he would pass whole months together in the 
 garb of a peasant, piping in the woods and moun- 
 tains, and pasturing his flocks. Here one day three 
 beautiful sorceresses appeared to him, disputing 
 about a golden apple ; and from him they sought to 
 know which of them was the most beautiful, since to 
 her the golden fruit was to be awarded. The first 
 knew how to give thrones, and sceptres, and crowns ; 
 the second could give wisdom and knowledge ; and 
 the third could prepare philters and love-charms 
 which could not fail of securing the affections of 
 
286 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 the fairest of women. Each one in turn proffered 
 her choicest gifts to the young shepherd, in order 
 that, tempted by them, he might adjudge the apple 
 to her. But as fair women charmed him more than 
 anything else in the world, he said that the third 
 was the most beautiful — her name was Venus. The 
 two others departed in great displeasure ; but Venus 
 bid him put on his knightly armor and his helmet 
 adorned with waving feathers, and then she led him 
 to a famous city called Sparta, where ruled the noble 
 Duke Menelaus. His young Duchess Helen was the 
 loveliest woman on earth, and the sorceress offered 
 her to Paris in return for the golden apple. He 
 was most ready to have her, and wished for nothing 
 better ; but he asked how he was to gain possession 
 of her." 
 
 " Paris must have been a sorry knight," inter- 
 rupted Sintram. " Such things are easily settled. 
 The husband is challenged to a single combat, and 
 he that is victorious carries off the wife." 
 
 " But Duke Menelaus was the host of the young 
 knight/' said the narrator. 
 
 " Listen to me, little Master," cried Sintram ; " he 
 might have asked the sorceress for some other beau- 
 tiful woman, and then have mounted his horse, or 
 weighed anchor, and departed." 
 
 " Yes, yes; it is very easy to say so," replied the 
 old man. " But if you only knew how bewitchingly 
 lovely this Duchess Helen was, no room was left for 
 change." And tb.en he began a glowing description 
 
SINTEAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 287 
 
 of the charms of this wondrously beautiful woman, but 
 likening the image'to Gabrielle so closely, feature for 
 feature, that Sintram, tottering, was forced to lean 
 against a tree. The little Master stood opposite to 
 him grinning, and asked, "Well now, could you 
 have advised that poor knight Paris to fly from 
 her ? " 
 
 " Tell me at once what happened next," stam- 
 mered Sintram. 
 
 "The sorceress acted honorably towards Paris," 
 continued the old man. " She declared to him that 
 if he would carry away the lovely duchess to his own 
 city Troy, he might do so, and thus cause the ruin 
 of his whole hous6 and of his country; but that 
 during ten years he would be able to defend himself 
 in Troy, and rejoice in the sweet love of Helen." 
 
 " And he accepted those terms, or he was a fool ! " 
 cried the youth. 
 
 " To be sure he accepted them," whispered the lit- 
 tle Master. " T would have done so in his place ! 
 And do you know, young sir, the look of things then 
 was just as they are happening to-day. The newly 
 risen moon, partly veiled by clouds, was shining 
 dimly through the thick branches of the trees in the 
 silence of evening. Leaning against an old tree, as 
 you now are doing, stood the young enamored knight 
 Paris, and at his side the enchantress Venus, but so 
 disguised and transformed, that she did not look 
 much more beautiful than I do. And by the silvery 
 light of the moon, the form of the beautiful, beloved 
 
288 SINIRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 one was seen sweeping by alone amidst the whisper- 
 ing boughs." He was silent, and like as in the mir- 
 ror of his deluding words, Gabrielle just then ac- 
 tually herself appeared, musing as she walked alone 
 down the alley of elms. 
 
 " Man, — fearful Master, — by what name shall I 
 call yoii ? To what would you drive me ? " muttered 
 the trembling Sintram. 
 
 " Thou knowest thy father's strong stone castle on 
 the Moon-rocks ! " replied the old man. " The cas- 
 tellan and the garrison are true and devoted to thee. 
 It could stand a ten years' siege ; and the little gate 
 which leads to the hills is open, as was that of the 
 citadel of Sparta for Paris." And, in fact, the youth 
 saw through a gate, left open he knew not how, the 
 dim, distant mountains glittering in the moonlight. 
 " And if he did not accept, he was a fool," said the 
 little Master, with a grin, echoing Sintram's former 
 words. 
 
 At that moment Gabrielle stood close by him. 
 She was within reach of his grasp, had he made the 
 least movement ; and a moonbeam, suddenly break- 
 ing forth, transfigured, as it were, her heavenly 
 beauty. The youth had already bent forward — 
 
 " My Lord and God, I pray, 
 Turn from his heart away 
 This world's turmoil; 
 And call him to Thy light, 
 Be it through sorrow's night, 
 Through pain or toil." 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 289 
 
 These words were sung by old Rolf at that very 
 time, as he lingered on the still margin of the castle 
 fish-pond, where he prayed alone to Heaven, full of 
 foreboding care. They reached Sintram's ear ; he 
 stood as if spell-bound, and made the sign of the 
 cross. Immediately the little Master fled away, 
 jumping uncouthly on one leg, through the gates, 
 and shutting them after him with a yell. 
 
 Gabrielle shuddered,, terrified at the wild noise. 
 Sintram approached her softly, and said, offering his 
 arm to her : " Suffer me to lead you back to the 
 castle. The night in these northern regions is often 
 wild and fearful." 
 
 19 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 They found the two knights drinking wine within. 
 Folko was relating stories in his usual mild and 
 cheerful manner, and l)ioi:n was listening with a 
 moody air, but yet as if, against his will, the dark 
 cloud might pass away before that bright and gentle 
 courtesy. Gabrielle saluted the baron with a smile, 
 and signed to him to continue his discourse, as she 
 took her place near the knight Biorn, full of watchful 
 kindness. Sintram stood by the hearth, abstracted 
 and melancholy ; and the embers, as he stirred them, 
 cast a strange glow over his pallid features. 
 
 " And of all the German trading towns," continued 
 Montfaucpn, "the largest and richest is Hamburg. 
 In Normandy we willingly see their merchants land 
 on our coasts, and those excellent people never fail 
 to prove themselves our friends when we seek their 
 advice and assistance. When I first visited Ham- 
 burg, every honor and respect was paid to me. I 
 found its inhabitants engaged in a war with a neigh- 
 boring count, and immediately I used my sword for 
 them, vigorously and successfully." 
 
 " Your sword ! your knightly sword ! " interrupted 
 Biorn ; and the old wonted fire flashed from his 
 eyes. " Against a knight, and for shopkeepers ! " 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 2^1 
 
 " Sir knight," replied Folko, calmly, " the barons 
 of Montfaucon have ever used their swords as they 
 chose, without the interference of another ; and as I 
 have received this good custom, so do I wish to hand 
 it on. If you agree not to this, so speak it freely 
 out. But I forbid every rude word against the men 
 of Hamburg, since I have declared them to be my 
 friends." 
 
 Biorn cast down his haughty eyes, and their fire 
 faded away. In a low voice he said, " Proceed, 
 noble baron. You are right, and I am wrong." 
 
 Then Folko stretched out his hand to him across 
 the table, and resumed his narration : " Amongst all 
 my beloved Hamburgers the dearest to me are two 
 men of marvelous experience — a father and son. 
 What have they not seen and done in the remotest 
 corners of the earth, and instituted in their native 
 town ! Praise be to God, my life cannot be called 
 unfruitful ; but, compared with the wise Gotthard 
 Lenz and his stout-hearted son Rudlieb, I look upon 
 myself as an esquire who has perhaps been some few 
 times to tourneys, and, besides that, has never hunted 
 out of his own forests. They have converted, sub- 
 dued, gladdened dark men whom I know not how to 
 name ; and the wealth which they have brought back 
 with them has all been devoted to the common weal, 
 as if fit for no other purpose. On their return from 
 their long and perilous sea-voyages, they hasten to 
 an hospital which has been founded by them, and 
 where they undertake the part of overseers, and of 
 
292 SINTEAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 careful and patient nurses. Then they proceed to 
 select the most fitting spots whereon to erect new 
 towers and fortresses for the defense of their beloved 
 country. Next they repair to the houses where 
 strangers and travellers receive hospitality at their 
 cost ; and at last they return to their own abode, to 
 entertain their guests, rich and noble like kings, and 
 simple and unconstrained like shepherds. Many a 
 tale of their wondrous adventures serves to enliven 
 these sumptuous feasts. Amongst others, I remem- 
 ber to have heard my friends relate one at which my 
 hair stood on end. Possibly I may gain some more 
 complete information on the subject from you. It 
 appears that several years ago, just about the time 
 of the Christmas festival, Gotthard and Rudlieb were 
 shipwrecked on the coast of Norway, during a vio- 
 lent winter tempest. They could never exactly as- 
 certain the situation of the rocks on which their 
 vessel stranded ; but so much is certain, that very 
 near the sea-shore stood a huge castle, to which the 
 father and son betook themselves, seeking for that 
 assistance and shelter which Christian people are 
 ever willing to afford each other in case of need. 
 They went alone, leaving their followers to watch 
 the injured ship. The castle gates were thrown 
 open, and they thought all was well. But on a sud- 
 den the court-yard was filled with armed men, who 
 with one accord, aimed their sharp, iron-pointed 
 spears at the defenseless strangers ; whose dignified 
 remonstrances and !nild entreaties were only heard 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIOISS. 293 
 
 in sullen silence or with scornful jeerings. After a 
 while a knight came down the stairs, with fire-flash- 
 ing eyes. They hardly knew whether to think they 
 saw a spectre, or a wild heathen ; he gave a signal, 
 and the fatal spears closed around them. At that 
 instant the soft tones of a woman's voice fell on their 
 ear, calling on the Saviour's holy name for aid ; at 
 the sound, the spectres in the court-yard rushed 
 madly one against the other, the gates burst open, 
 and Gotthard and Rudlieb fled away, catching a 
 glimpse as they went of an angelic woman who ap- 
 peared at one of the windows of the castle. They 
 made every exertion to get their ship again afloat, 
 choosing to trust themselves to the sea rather than 
 to that barbarous coast ; and at last, after manifold 
 dangers, they landed at Denmark. They say that 
 some heathen must have owned the cruel castle ; 
 but I hold it to be some ruined fortress, deserted by 
 men, in which hellish spectres were wont to hold 
 their nightly meetings. What heathen could b^ 
 found so demon-like as to ofler death to shipwrecked 
 strangers, instead of refreshment and shelter ? " 
 
 Biorn gazed fixedly on the ground, as though hfr 
 were turned into stone, but Sintram came towards 
 the table, and said, " Father, let us seek out this 
 godless abode, and lay it level with the dust. I can- 
 not tell how, but somehow I feel quite sure that the 
 accursed deed of which we have just heard is alone 
 the cause of my frightful dreams." 
 
 Enraged at his son, Biorn rose up, and would per- 
 
294 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 haps again have uttered some dreadful words ; but 
 Heaven decreed otherwise, for just at that moment 
 the pealing notes of a trumpet were heard, which 
 drowned the angry tones of his voice, the great 
 doors opened slowly, and a herald entered the hall. 
 He bowed reverently, and then said, " I am sent by 
 Jarl Eric the Aged. He returned two days ago from 
 his expedition to the Grecian seas. His wish had 
 been to take vengeance on the island which is called 
 Chios, where fifty years ago his father was slain by the 
 soldiers of the emperor. But your kinsman, the sea- 
 king Arinbiorn, who was lying there at anchor, tried 
 to pacify him. To this Jarl Eric would not listen ; 
 so the sea-king said next that he would never suffer 
 Chios to be laid waste, because it was an island 
 where the lays of an old Greek bard, called Homer, 
 were excellently sung, and where, moreover, a very 
 choice wine was made. Words proving of no avail, 
 a combat ensued ; in which Arinbiorn had so much 
 the advantage that Jarl Eric lost two of his ships, 
 and only with difficulty escaped in one which had 
 already sustained great damage. Eric the Aged has 
 now resolved to take revenge on some of the sea- 
 king's race, since Arinbiorn himself is seldom on the 
 spot. Will you, Biorn of the Fiery Eyes, at once 
 pay as large a penalty in cattle, and money, and 
 goods, as it may please the Jarl to demand? Or 
 will you prepare to meet him with an armed force at 
 Niflung's Heath seven days hence?" 
 
 Biorn bowed his head quietly, and replied in a 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 295 
 
 mild tone, " Seven days hence at Niflimg's Heath." 
 He then offered to the herald a golden goblet full of 
 rich wine, and added, " Drink that, and then carry 
 off with thee the cup which thou hast emptied." 
 
 " The Baron of Montfaucon likewise sends greet- 
 ing to thy chieftain, Jarl Eric," interposed Folko ; 
 " and engages to be also at Niflung's Heath, as the 
 hereditary friend of the sea-king, and also as the 
 kinsman and guest of Biorn of the Fiery Eyes." 
 
 The herald was seen to tremble at the name of 
 Montfaucon ; he bowed very low, cast an anxious, 
 reverential look at the baron, and left the hall. 
 
 Gabrielle looked on her knight, smiling lovingly 
 and securely, for she well knew his victorious 
 prowess ; and she only asked, " Where shall I re- 
 main, whilst you go forth to battle, Folko ? " 
 
 " I had hoped," answered Biorn, " that you would 
 be well contented to stay in this castle, lovely lady ; 
 I leave my son to guard you and attend on you." 
 
 Gabrielle hesitated an instant ; and Sintram, who 
 had resumed his position near the fire, muttered to 
 himself as he fixed his eyes on the bright flames 
 which were flashing up, " Yes, yes ; so it will prob- 
 ably happen. T can fancy that Duke Menelaus had 
 just left Sparta on some warlike expedition, when 
 the young knight Paris met the lovely Helen that 
 evening in the garden." 
 
 But Gabrielle, shuddering, although she knew not 
 why, said quickly, '' Without you, Folko ? And must 
 I forego the joy of seeing you fight ? or the honor 
 
296 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 of tending yoii, should you chance to receive a 
 wound ? " 
 
 Folko bowed, gracefully thanking his lady, and 
 replied, " Come with your knight, since such is your 
 pleasure, and be to him a bright guiding star. It is 
 a good old northern custom that ladies should be 
 present at knightly combats, and no true warrior of 
 the north will fail to respect the place whence beams 
 the light of their eyes. Unless, indeed," continued 
 he with an inquiring look at Biorn, " unless Jarl 
 Eric is not worthy of his forefather ? " 
 
 " A man of honor," said Biorn confidently. 
 
 " Then array yourself, my fairest love," said the 
 delighted Folko ; " array yourself, and come forth 
 with us to the battle-field to behold and judge our 
 deeds." 
 
 " Come forth with us to the battle," echoed Sin- 
 tram in a sudden transport of joy. 
 
 And they all dispersed in calm cheerfulness ; Sin- 
 tram betaking himself again to the wood, while the 
 others retired to rest. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 It was a wild dreary tract of country that, which 
 bore the name of Niflung's Heath. According to 
 tradition, the young Niflung, son of Hogni, the last 
 of his race, had there ended darkly a sad and unsuc 
 cessful life. Many ancient grave-stones were still 
 standing round about ; and in the few oak-trees scat- 
 tered here and there over the plain, huge eagles had 
 built their nests. The beating of their heavy wings 
 as they fought together, and their wild screams, were 
 heard far off in more thickly peopled regions ; and 
 at the sound children would tremble in their cradles, 
 and old men quake with fear as they slumbered over 
 the blazing hearth. 
 
 As the seventh night, the last before the day of 
 combat, was just beginning, two large armies were 
 seen descending from the hills in opposite direc- 
 tions : that which came from the west was com- 
 manded by Eric the Aged, that from the east by 
 Biorn of the Fiery Eyes. They appeared thus early 
 in compliance with the custom which required that 
 adversaries should always present themselves at the 
 appointed field of battle before the time named, in 
 order to prove that they rather sought than dreaded 
 
298 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 the fight. Folko forthwith pitched on the most con« 
 venient spot the tent of bhie samite fringed with 
 gold, which he carried with hnn to shelter his gentle 
 lady; whilst Sintrani, in the character of herald, 
 rode over to Jarl Eric to announce to him that the 
 beauteous Gabrielle of Montfaucon was present in 
 the army of the knight Biorn, and would the next 
 morning be present as a judge of the combat. 
 
 Jarl P>ic bowed low on receiving this pleasing 
 message ; and ordered his bards to strike up a lay, 
 tne words of which ran as follows : — 
 
 " Warriors bold of Eric's band, 
 Gird your glittering armor on ; 
 Stand beneath to-morrow's sun 
 
 In your might. 
 
 " Fairest dame that ever gladden'd 
 Our wild shores with beauty's vision, 
 May thy bright eyes o'er our combat 
 Judge the right I 
 
 " Tidings of yon noble stranger 
 Long ago have reach' d our ears, 
 "Wafted upon southern breezes 
 
 O'er the wave. 
 
 " Now midst yonder hostile ranks 
 In his warlike pride he meets us : 
 Folko comes ! Fight, men of Eric, 
 
 True and brave ! " 
 
 These woundrous tones floated over the plain, and 
 reached the tent of Gabrielle. It was no new thing 
 to her to hear her knight's fame celebrated on all 
 sides ; but now that she listened to his praises burst- 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 299 
 
 ing forth in the stillness of night from the mouth of 
 his enemies, she could scarce refrain from kneeling 
 at the feet of the mighty chieftain. But he with 
 courteous tenderness held her up, and pressing his 
 lips fervently on her soft hand, he said, " My deeds, 
 O lovely lady, belong to thee, and not to me ! " 
 
 Now the night had passed away, and the east was 
 glowing ; and on Niflung's Heath there was waving, 
 and resounding, and glowing too. Knights put on 
 their rattling arnior, war-horses began to neigh, the 
 morning draught went round in gold and silver 
 goblets, while war-songs and the clang of harps re- 
 sounded in the midst. A joyous march was heard in 
 Biorn's camp, as Montfaucon, with his troops and 
 retainers, clad in bright steel armor, conducted their 
 lady up to a neighboring hill, where she would be 
 safe from the spears which would soon be flying in 
 all directions, and whence she could look freely over 
 the battle-field. The morning sun, as it were in 
 homage, played over her beauty ; and as she came 
 in view of the camp of Jarl Eric, his soldiers lowered 
 their weapons, whilst the chieftains bent low the 
 crests of their huge helmets. Two of Montfaucon's 
 pages remained in attendance on Gabrielle ; for so 
 noble a service not unwillingly bridling their love of 
 fighting. Both armies passed in front of her, salut- 
 ing her and singing as they went ; they then placed 
 themselves in array, and the fight began. 
 
 The spears flew from the hands of the stout north- 
 ern warriors, rj^ttling against the broad shields under 
 
300 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 which they sheltered themselves, or sometimes clat- 
 tering as they met in the air ; at intervals, on one 
 side or the other, a man was struck, and fell silent in 
 his blood. Then the Knight of Mountfaucon ad- 
 vanced with his troop of Norman horsemen — even 
 as he dashed past, he did not fail to lower his shin- 
 ing sword to salute Gabrielle ; and then with an 
 exulting war-cry, which burst from many a voice, 
 they charged the left wing of the enemy. Eric's 
 foot-soldiers, kneeling firmly, received them with 
 fixed javelins — many a noble horse fell wounded to 
 death, and in falling brought his rider with him to 
 the ground ; others again crushed their foes under 
 them in their death-fall. Folko rushed through — 
 he and his war-steed unwounded — followed by a 
 troop of chosen knights. Already were they falling 
 into disorder — already were Biorn's warriors giving 
 shouts of victoi-y — when a troop of horse, headed 
 by Jarl Eric himself, advanced against the valiant 
 baron ; and whilst his Normans, hastily assembled, 
 assisted him in repelling this new attack, the enemy's 
 infantry were gradually forming themselves into a 
 thick mass, wliich rolled on and on. All these 
 movements seemed caused by a warrior whose loud 
 piercing shout was heard in the midst. And scarcely 
 were the troops formed into this strange array, when 
 suddenly they spread themselves out on all sides, 
 carrying everything before them with the irresistible 
 force of the burning torrent from Hecla. 
 
 Biorn's soldiers, who had thought to inclose theii 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 301 
 
 enemies, lost courage and gave way before this won- 
 drous onset. The knight himself in vain attempted 
 to stem the tide of fugitives, and with difficulty es- 
 caped being carried away by it. 
 
 Sintram stood looking on this scene of confusion 
 with mute indignation ; friends and foes passed by 
 him, all equally avoiding him, and dreading to come, 
 in contact with one whose aspect was so fearful, nay, 
 almost unearthly, in his motionless rage. He aimed 
 no blow either to right or left ; his powerful battle- 
 axe rested in his hand ; but his eyes flashed fire, and 
 seemed to be piercing the enemy's ranks through 
 and through, as if be would find out who it was 
 that had conjured up this sudden warlike spirit. 
 He succeeded. A small man clothed in strange- 
 looking armor, with large golden horns on his 
 helmet, and a long visor advancing in front of it, 
 was leaning on a two-edged curved spear, and 
 seemed to be looking with derision at the flight of 
 Biorn's troops as they were pursued by their vic- 
 torious foes. " That is he," cried Sintram ; " he who. 
 will drive us from the field before the eyes of Ga- 
 brielle ! " And with the swiftness of an arrow he 
 flew towards him with a wild shout. The combat was 
 fierce, but not of long duration. To the wondrous 
 dexterity of his adversary, Sintram opposed his far 
 superior size ; and he dealt so fearful a blow on the 
 horned helmet, that a stream of blood rushed forth, 
 the small man fell as if stunned, and after some 
 frightful convulsive movements, his limbs appeared 
 to stiffen in death. 
 
302 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 His fall gave the signal for that of all Eric's army. 
 Even those who had not seen him fall, suddenly lost 
 their courage and eagerness for the battle, and re- 
 treated with uncertain steps, or ran in wild affright 
 on the spears of their enemies. At the same time 
 Montfaucon was dispersing Jarl Eric's cavalry, after 
 a desperate conflict, — had hurled their chief from 
 the saddle, and taken him prisoner with his own 
 hand. Biorn of the Fiery Eyes stood victorious in 
 the middle of the field of battle. The day was won. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 In sight of both armies, with glowing cheeks 
 and looks of modest humility, Sintram was con- 
 ducted by the brave baron up the hill where Ga- 
 brielle stood in all the lustre of her beauty. Both 
 warriors bent the knee before her, and Folko said, 
 solemnly, " Lady, this valiant youth of a noble race 
 has deserved the reward of this day's victory. I pray 
 you let him receive it from your fair hand." 
 
 Gabrielle bowed courteously, took off her scarf of 
 blue and gold, and fastened to it a bright sword, 
 which a page brought to her on a cushion of cloth 
 of silver. She then, with a smile, presented the 
 noble gift to Sintram, who was bending forward to 
 receive it, when suddenly Gabrielle drew back, and 
 turning to Folko said, " Noble baron, should not he 
 on whom I bestow a scarf and sword be first admit- 
 ted into the order of knighthood?" Light as a 
 feather, Folko sprang up, and bowing low before 
 his lady, gave the youth the accolade with solemn 
 earnestness. Then Gabrielle buckled on his sword, 
 saying, " For the honor of God and the service of 
 virtuous ladies, young knight. I saw you fight, I 
 saw you conquer, and my earnest prayers followed 
 
304 SINTRAM AND IlIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 you. Fight and conquer often again, as you have 
 done this day, that the beams of your renown may 
 shine over my far-distant country." And at a sign 
 from Folko, she offered her tender h*ps for the new 
 knight to kiss. Thrilling all over, and full of a holy 
 joy, Sintram arose in silence, and hot tears streamed 
 down his softened countenance, whilst the shout and 
 the trumpets of the assembled troops greeted the 
 youth with stunning applause. Old Rolf stood si- 
 lently on one side, and as he looked in the mild 
 beaming eyes of his foster-child, he calmly and 
 piously returned thanks : — 
 
 " The strife at length hath found its end, 
 Rich blessings now shall heaven send ! 
 The evil foe is slain ! " 
 
 Biorn and Jarl Eric had the while been talking 
 together eagerly, but not unkindly. The conqueror 
 now led his vanquished enemy up the hill and pre- 
 sented him to the baron and Gabrielle, saying, " In- 
 stead of two enemies, you now see two sworn allies ; 
 and I request yon, my beloved guests and kinsfolk, 
 receive him graciously as one who hence forward 
 belongs to us." 
 
 He was so always," added Eric, smiling. "I 
 sought, indeed, revenge ; but I have now had enough 
 of defeats both by sea and land. Yet I thank Heaven 
 that neither in the Grecian seas, to the sea-king, nor 
 on Niflung's Heath, to you, have I yielded inglo- 
 riously." 
 
 The Lord of Montfancon assented cordially, and 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 305 
 
 heartily and solemnly was reconciliation made. 
 Then Jarl Eric addressed Gabrielle with so noble 
 a grace, that with a smile of wonder she gazed on 
 the gigantic gray hero, and gave him her beautiful 
 hand to kiss. 
 
 Meanwhile Sintram was speaking earnestly to his 
 good Rolf; and at length he was heard to say, " But 
 before all, be sure that you bury that wonderfully 
 brave knight w^iom my battle-axe smote. Choose 
 out the greenest hill for his resting-place, and the 
 loftiest oak to shade his grave. Also, I wish you 
 to open his visor, and to examine his countenance 
 carefully, that so, though mortally smitten, we may 
 not bury him alive ; and moreover, that you may 
 be able to describe to me him to whom I owe the 
 noblest prize of victory." 
 
 Rolf bowed readily, and went. 
 
 " Our young knight is speaking there of one 
 amongst the slain of whom I should like to hear 
 more," said Folko, turning to Jarl Eric. " Who, 
 dear Jarl, was that wonderful chieftain who led on 
 your troops so skillfully, and who at last fell under 
 Sintram's powerful battle-axe ? " 
 
 " You ask me more than I know how to answer," 
 replied Jarl Eric. " About three nights ago this 
 stranger made his appearance amongst us. I was 
 sitting with my chieftains and warriors round the 
 hearth, forging our armor, and singing the while. 
 Suddenly, above the din of our hammering and our 
 singing we heard sr ^oud a noise that it silenced us 
 20 
 
306 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 in a moment, and we sat motionless as if we had 
 been turned into stone. Before long the sound was 
 repeated ; and at last we made out that it must be 
 caused by some person blowing a huge horn outside 
 the castle, seeking for admittance. I went down 
 myself to the gate, and as I passed through the 
 court-yard all my dogs were so terrified by the ex- 
 traordinary noise as to be howling and crouching in 
 their kennels instead of barking. I chid them, and 
 called to them, but even the fiercest would not follow 
 me. Then, thought I, I must vshow you the way to 
 set to work, so I grasped my sword firmly, I set my 
 torch on the ground close beside me, and I let the 
 gates fly open without further delay. For I well 
 knew that it would be no easy matter for any one 
 to come in against my will. A loud laugh greeted 
 me, and I heard these words, ' Well, well, what 
 mighty preparations are these before one small man 
 can find the shelter he seeks ! ' And in truth I did 
 feel myself redden with shame when I saw the small 
 stranger standing opposite to me quite alone. I 
 called to him to come in at once, and offered my 
 hand to him ; but he still showed some displeasure, 
 and would not give me his in return. As he went 
 up, however, he became more friendly ; he showed 
 ^e the golden horn on which he sounded that 
 olast, and which he carried screwed on his helmet, 
 .s well as another exactly like it. When he was 
 sitting with us in the hall, he behaved in a very 
 strange manner: sometimes he was merry, some- 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 307 
 
 times cross ; by turns courteous and rude in his 
 demeanor, without any one being able to see a mo- 
 tive for such constant changes. I longed to know 
 where he came from ; but how could I ask my guest 
 such a question ? He told us as much as this, that 
 he was starved with cold in our country, and that his 
 own was much warmer. Also he appeared well ac- 
 quainted with the city of Constantinople, and related 
 fearful stories of how brothers, uncles, and nephews, 
 nay, even fathers and sons, thrust each other from 
 the throne, blinded, cut out tongues, and murdered. 
 At length he said his own name — it sounded har- 
 monious, hke a Greek name, but none of us could 
 remember it. Before long he displayed his skill as 
 an armorer. He understood marvelously well how 
 to handle the red-hot iron, and how to form it into 
 more murderous weapons than any I had ever before 
 seen. I would not suffer him to go on making them, 
 for I was resolved to meet you in the field with equal 
 arms, and such as we are all used to in our northern 
 countries. Then he laughed, and said he thought 
 it would be quite possible to be victorious without 
 them, by skillful movements and the like ; if only I 
 would intrust the command of my infantry to him, I 
 was sure of victory. Then I thought that he who 
 makes arms well must also wield them well : yet I 
 required some proof of his powers. Ye lords, he 
 came off victorious in trials of strength such as you 
 can hardly imagine ; and although the fame of young 
 Sintram, as a bold and brave warrior, is spread far 
 
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 M 
 
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 ^^^ 
 
 
 "^^ 1 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 The joyful calm which came over Sintram on this 
 day appeared to be more than a passing gleam. If 
 too, at times, a thought of the knight Paris and 
 Helen would inflame his heart with bolder and 
 wilder wishes, it needed but one look at his scarf 
 and sword, and the stream of his inner life glided 
 again clear as a mirror, and serene within. " What 
 can any man wish for more than has been already 
 bestowed on me ? " would he say to himself at such 
 times, in still delight. And thus it went on for a 
 long while. 
 
 The beautiful northern autumn had already begun 
 to redden the leaves of the oaks and elms round the 
 castle, when one day it chanced that Sintram was sit- 
 ting in company with Folko and Gabrielle in almost 
 the very same spot in the garden where he had 
 before met that mysterious being whom, without 
 knowing why, he had named the Little Master. But 
 on this day how different did everything appear 
 The sun was sinking slowly over the sea ; the mist of 
 an autumnal evening was rising from the fields and 
 meadows around towards the hill on which stood the 
 huge castle. Gabrielle, placing her lute in Sintram's 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 311 
 
 hands, said to him, " Dear friend, so mild and gentle 
 as you now are, I may well dare to intrust to you 
 my tender little darling. Let me again hear you 
 sing that lay of the land of flowers ; for I am sure 
 that it will now sound much sweeter than when you 
 accompanied it with the vibrations of your fearful 
 harp." 
 
 The young knight bowed as he prepared to obey 
 the lady's commands. With a grace and softness 
 hitherto unwonted, the tones resounded from his 
 lips, and the wild song appeared to transform itself, 
 and to bloom into a garden of the blessed. Tears 
 stood in Gabrielle's eyes ; and Sintram, as he gazed 
 on the pearly brightness, poured forth tones of yet 
 'icher sweetness. When the last notes were sounded 
 Gabrielle's angelic voice was heard to echo them ; 
 and as she repeated, — 
 
 " Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers ! " — 
 Sintram put down the lute, and sighed with a thank- 
 ful glance towards the stars, now rising in the 
 heavens. Then Gabrielle, turning towards her lord, 
 murmured these words : " Oh, how long have we 
 been far away from our own shining castles and 
 bright gardens ! Oh, for that land of the sweetest 
 flowers ! " 
 
 Sintram could scarce believe that he heard aright, 
 BO suddenly did he feel himself as if shut out from 
 paradise. But his last hope vanished before the 
 courteous assurances of Folko, that he would en- 
 deavor to fulfill his lady's wishes the very next week, 
 
312 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 and that their ship was lying off the shore ready to 
 put to sea. She thanked him with a kiss imprinted 
 softly on his forehead ; and leaning on his arm, she 
 bent her steps, singing and smiling, towards the 
 castle. 
 
 Sintram, troubled in mind, as though turned into 
 stone, remained behind forgotten. At length, when 
 night was now in the sky, he started up wildly, ran 
 up and down the garden, as if all his former mad- 
 ness had again taken possession of him ; and then 
 rushed out and wandered upon . the wild moonlit 
 hills. There he dashed his sword against the trees 
 and bushes, so that on all sides was heard a sound 
 of crashing and falling. The birds of night flew 
 about him screeching in wild alarm ; and the deer, 
 startled by the noise, sprang away and took refuge 
 in the thickest coverts. 
 
 On a sudden old Rolf appeared, returning home 
 from a visit to the chaplain of Drontheim, to whom 
 he had been relating, with tears of joy, how Sintram 
 was softened by the presence of the angel Gabrielle, 
 yea, almost healed, and how he dared to hope chat 
 the evil dreams had yielded. And now the sword, 
 as it whizzed round the furious youth, had weii-nigh 
 wounded the good old man. He stopped short, and 
 clasping his hands, he said, with a deep sigh, " Alas, 
 Sintram ! my foster-child, darling of my heart, what 
 has come over thee, thus fearfully stirring thee to 
 rage ? " 
 
 The vouth stood awbUe as if sp/ U-]>^und '; }.e 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 313 
 
 looked in his old friend's face with a fixed and mel- 
 ancholy gaze, and his eyes became dim, like expir- 
 ing watch-fires seen through a thick cloud of mist. 
 At length he sighed forth these words, almost inau- 
 dibly : " Good Rolf, good Rolf, depart from me ! 
 thy garden of heaven is no home for me ; and if 
 sometimes a light breeze blow open its golden gates, 
 so that I can look in and see the flowery meadow- 
 land where the dear angels dwell, then straightway 
 between them and me come the cold north wind and 
 the icy storm, and the sounding doors fly together, 
 and I remain without, lonely, in endless winter." 
 
 " Beloved young knight, oh, listen to me — listen 
 to the good angel within you ! Do you not bear in 
 your hand that very sword with which the pure lady 
 girded you ? Does not her scarf wave over your rag- 
 ing breast ? Do you not recollect how you used to 
 say, that no man could wish for more than had fallen 
 to you?" 
 
 "Yes, Rolf, I have said that," replied Sintram, 
 sinking on the mossy turf, bitterly weeping. Tears 
 also ran over the old man's white beard. Before 
 long the youth stood again erect, his tears ceased to 
 flow, his looks were fearful, cold, and grim ; and he 
 said, " You see, Rolf, I have passed blessed peaceful 
 days, and I thought that the powers of evil would 
 never again have dominion over me. So, perchance, 
 it might have been, as day would ever be did the 
 Sun ever stand in the sky But ask the poor be- 
 aighted Earth, wherefore she looks so dark ! Bid 
 
314 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 her again smile as she was wont to do ! Old man, 
 she caimot smile ; and now that the gentle compas- 
 sionate Moon has disappeared behind the clouds with 
 her holy funeral veil, she cannot even weep. And 
 In this hour of darkness, all that is wild and mad 
 wakes up. So, stop me not ; I tell thee, stop me not ! 
 Hurrah, behind, behind the pale Moon ! " His 
 voice changed to a hoarse murmur at these last 
 words, stormlike. He tore away from the trembling 
 old man, and rushed through the forest. Rolf knelt 
 down and prayed, and wept silently. 
 
CHAPTER XIL 
 
 "Where the sea-beach was wildest, and the cliffs 
 most steep and rugged, and close by the remains of 
 three shattered oaks, haply marking where, in hea- 
 then times, human victims had been sacrificed, now 
 stood Sintram, leaning, as if exhausted, on his drawn 
 sword, and gazing intently on the dancing waves. 
 The moon had again shone forth ; and as her pale 
 beams fell on his motionless figure through the 
 quivering branches of the trees, he might have been 
 taken for some fearful idol-image. Suddenly some 
 one on the left half raised himself out of the high 
 withered grass, uttered a faint groan, and again lay 
 down. Then between the two companions began 
 this strange talk : — 
 
 " Thou that movest thyself so • strangely in the 
 grass, dost thou belong to the living or to the 
 dead?" 
 
 " As one may take it. I am dead to heaven and 
 joy : I live for hell and anguish." 
 
 " Methinks that I have heard thee before." 
 
 " Oh yes." 
 
 "Art thou a troubled spirit? and was thy life- 
 blood poured out here of old in sacrifice to idols ? " 
 
316 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 " I am a troubled spirit ; but no man ever has, oif 
 ever can, shed my blood. I have been cast down -— 
 oh into a frightful abyss ! " 
 
 " And didst thou there break thy neck ? " 
 
 " I live, — and shall live longer than thou." 
 
 " Almost thou seemest to me the crazy pilgrim 
 with the dead men's bones." 
 
 " I am not he, though often we are companions, — 
 ay, walk together right near and friendly. But to 
 you be it said, he thinks me mad. If sometimes I 
 urge him, and say to him, ' Take ! ' then he hesitates, 
 and points upwards towards the stars. And again, 
 if I say, ' Take not ! ' then, to a certainty, he seizes 
 on it in some awkward manner, and so he spoils my 
 best joys and pleasures. But, in spite of this, we 
 remain in some measure brothers-in-arms, and in- 
 deed, all but kinsmen." 
 
 " Give me hold of thy hand, and let me help thee 
 to get up." 
 
 " Ho, ho ! my active young sir, that might bring 
 you no good. Yet, in fact, you have already helped 
 to raise me. Give heed awhile." 
 
 Wilder and ever wilder were the strugglings on 
 the ground ; thick clouds hurried over the moon and 
 the stars, on a long unknown wild journey ; and Sin- 
 tram's thoughts grew no less wild and stormy, while 
 far and near an awful howling could be heard amidst 
 the trees and the grass. At length the mysterious 
 being arose from the ground. As if with a fearful 
 curiosity, the moon, through a rent m the clouds, 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 317 
 
 cast a beam upon Sintram's companion, and made 
 clear to the shuddering youth that the little Master 
 stood by him. 
 
 " Avaunt ! " cried he, •' I will listen no more to 
 thy evil stories about the knight Paris : they would 
 end by driving me quite mad." 
 
 My stories about Paris are not needed for that ! " 
 grinned the little Master. " It is enough that the 
 Helen of thy heart should be journeying towards 
 Montfaucon. Believe me, madness has thee already, 
 head and heart. Or wouldest thou that she should 
 remain? For that, however, thou must be more 
 courteous to me than thou art now." 
 
 Therewith he raised his voice towards the sea, as 
 if fiercely rebuking it, so that Sintrara could not but 
 shudder and tremble before the dwarf But he 
 checked himself, and, grasping his sword-hilt with 
 both hands, he said, contemptuously : " Thou and 
 Gabrielle ! what acquaintance hast thou with Ga- 
 brielle?" 
 
 " Not much," was the reply. And the little Mas- 
 ter might be seen to quake with fear and rage as he 
 continued : " I cannot well bear the name of thy 
 Helen ; do not din it in my ears ten times in a 
 breath. But if the tempest should increase ? If the 
 waves should swell, and roll on till they form a foam- 
 \ng ring round the whole coast of Norway ? The 
 voyage to Montfaucon must in that case be alto- 
 gether given up, and thy Helen would remain here, 
 at least through the long, long, dark winter." 
 
318 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 "If! if!" replied Sintram, with scorn. "Is the 
 sea thy bond-slave ? Are the storms thy fellow- 
 workmen ? " 
 
 " They are rebels, accursed rebels/' muttered the 
 little Master in his red beard. " Thou must lend me 
 thy aid, sir knight, if I am to subdue them ; but thou 
 hast not the heart for it." 
 
 " Boaster, evil boaster ! " answered the youth ; 
 " what dost thou ask of me ? " 
 
 " Not much, sir knight ; nothing at all for one who 
 has strength and ardor of soul. Thou needest only 
 look at the sea steadily and keenly for one half hour 
 without ever ceasing to wish with all thy might that 
 it should foam and rage and swell, and never again 
 rest till winter has laid its icy hold upon your moun- 
 tains. Then winter is enough to hinder Duke Me- 
 nelaus from his voyage to Montfaucon. And now 
 give me a lock of your black hair, which is blowing 
 so wildly about your head, like ravens' or vultures' 
 wings." 
 
 The youth drew his sharp dagger, madly cut off a 
 lock of his hair, threw it to the strange being, and 
 now gazed, as he desired, powerfully wishing, on the 
 waves of the sea. And softly, quite softly, did the 
 waters stir themselves, as one whispers in troubled 
 dreams who would gladly rest and cannot. Sintram 
 was on the point of giving up, when in the moon- 
 beams a ship appeared, with white-swelling sails, 
 towards the south. Anguish came over him, that 
 Gabrielle would soon thus quickly sail away, he 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 319 
 
 wished again with all his power, and fixed his eyes 
 intently on the watery abyss. " Sintram," a voice 
 might have said to him, — " ah, Sintram, art thou 
 indeed the same who so lately wert gazing on the 
 moistened heaven of the eyes of Gabrielle ? " 
 
 And now the waves heaved more mightily, and the 
 howling tempest swept over the ocean ; the break- 
 ers, white with foam, became visible in the moon- 
 light. Then the little Master threw the lock of 
 Sintram's hair up towards the clouds, and, as it was 
 blown to and fro by the blast of wind, the storm 
 burst in all its fury, so that sea and sky were cov- 
 ered with one thick cloud, and far off might be heard 
 the cries of distress from many a sinking vessel. 
 
 But the crazy pilgrim with the dead men's bones 
 rose up in the midst of the waves, close to the shore, 
 gigantic, tall, fearfully rocking ; the boat in which he 
 stood was hidden from sight, so mightily raged the 
 waves round about it. 
 
 " Thou must save him, little Master — thou must 
 certainly save him," cried Sintram's voice, angrily 
 entreating, through the roaring of the winds and 
 waves. But the dwarf replied, with a laugh : " Be 
 quite at rest for him ; he will be able to save him- 
 self The waves can do him no harm. Seest thou ? 
 They are only begging of him, and therefore they 
 jump up so boldly round him ; and he gives them 
 bountiful alms — very bountiful, that I can assure 
 thee." 
 
320 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 In fact, as it seemed, the pilgrim threw some 
 bones into the sea, and passed scatheless on his way. 
 Sintrani felt his blood run cold with horror, and he 
 rushed wildly towards the castle. His companion 
 had either fled or vanished away. 
 
CHAPTER Xiri. 
 
 In the castle, Biorn and Gabrielle and Folko of 
 Montfaucon were sitting round the great stone table 
 from which, since the arrival of his noble guests, 
 those suits of armor had been removed, formerly the 
 established companions of the lord of the castle, and 
 placed altogether in a heap in the adjoining room. 
 At this time, while the storm was beating so furiously 
 against doors and windows, it seemed as if the an- 
 cient armor were also stirring in the next room, and 
 Gabrielle several times half rose from her seat in 
 great alarm, fixing her eyes on the small iron door, 
 as though she expected to see an armed spectre 
 issue therefrom, bending with his mighty helmet 
 through the low vaulted doorway. 
 
 The knight Biorn smiled grimly, and said, as if he 
 had guessed her thoughts : " Oh, he will never again 
 come out thence ; I have put an end to that for- 
 ever." 
 
 His guests stared at him doubtingly ; and with a 
 strange air of unconcern, as though the storm had 
 awakened all the fierceness of his soul, he began the 
 following history : 
 
 "I was once a happy man myself; I could smile, 
 as you do, and I could rejoice in the morning as you 
 21 
 
322 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 do ; that was before the hypocritical chaplain had so 
 bewildered the wise mind of my lovely wife with his 
 canting talk, that she went into a cloister, and left 
 me alone with our wild boy. That was not fair 
 usage from the fair Yerena. Well, so it was, that 
 in the first days of her dawning beauty, before I 
 knew her, many knights sought her hand, amongst 
 whom was Sir Weigand the Slender ; and towards 
 him the gentle maiden showed herself the most 
 favorably inclined. Her parents were well aware 
 that Weigand's rank and station were little below 
 their own, and that his early fame as a warrior with- 
 out reproach stood high ; so that before long Verena 
 and he were accounted as affianced. It happened one 
 day that they were walking together in the orchard, 
 when a shepherd was driving his flock up the moun- 
 tain beyond. The maiden saw a little snow-white 
 lamb frolicking gayly, and longed for it. Weigand 
 vaults over the railings, overtakes the shepherd, and 
 offers him two gold bracelets for the lamb. But the 
 shepherd will not part with it, and scarcely listens to 
 the knight, going quietly the while up the mountain- 
 side, with Weigand close upon him. At last Wei- 
 gand loses patience. He threatens ; and the shep- 
 herd, sturdy and proud like all of his race in our 
 northern land, threatens in return. Suddenly Wei- 
 gand's sword resounds upon his head, — the stroke 
 should have fallen flat, but who can control a fiery 
 horse or a drawn sword ? The bleeding shepherd, 
 with a cloven skull, falls down the precipice ; his 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 323 
 
 frightened flock bleats on the mountain. Only the 
 little lamb runs in its terror to the orchard, pushes 
 itself through the garden-rails, and lies at Verena's 
 feet, as if asking for help, all red with his master's 
 blood. She took it up in her arms, and from that 
 moment never suffered Weigand the Slender to ap- 
 pear again before her face. She continued to cher- 
 ish the little lamb, and seemed to take pleasure in 
 nothing else in the world, and became pale and 
 turned towards heaven, as the lilies are. She would 
 soon have taken the veil, but just then I came to aid 
 her father in a bloody war, and rescued him from 
 his enemies. The old man represented this to her, 
 and softly smiling, she gave me her lovely hand. 
 His grief would not suffer the unhappy Weigand 
 to remain in his own tountry. It drove him forth as 
 a pilgrim to Asia, whence our forefathers came, and 
 there he did wonderful deeds, both of valor and self- 
 abasement. Truly, my heart was strangely weak 
 when I heard him spoken of at that time. After 
 some years he returned, and wished to build a 
 church or monastery on that mountain towards the 
 west, whence the walls of my castle are distinctly 
 Been. It was said that he wished to become a priest 
 there, but it fell out otherwise. For some pirates 
 had sailed from the southern seas, and, hearing of 
 the building of this monastery, their chief thought 
 to find much gold belonging to the lord of the castle 
 ftnd to the master builders, or else, if he surprised 
 and carried them off, to extort from them a mighty 
 
324 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANION'S. 
 
 ransom. He did not yet know northern courage 
 and northern weapons ; but he soon gained that 
 knowledge. Having landed in the creek under the 
 black rocks, he made his way through a by-path up 
 to the building, surrounded it, and thought in him- 
 self that the affair was now ended. Ha ! then out 
 rushed Weigand and his builders, and fell upon 
 them with swords and hatchets and hammers. The 
 heathens fled away to their ships, with Weigand 
 behind to take vengeance on them. In passing by 
 our castle he caught a sight of Verena on the ter- 
 race, and, for the first time during so many years, 
 she bestowed a courteous and kind salutation on the 
 glowing victor. At that moment a dagger, hurled 
 by one of the pirates in the midst of his hasty flight, 
 struck Weigand's uncovered Head, and he fell to 
 the ground bleeding and insensible. We completed 
 the rout of the heathens ; then I had the wounded 
 knight brought into the castle ; and my pale Verena 
 glowed as lilies in the light of the morning sun, and 
 Weigand opened his eyes with a smile when he was 
 brought near her. He refused to be taken into any 
 room but the small one close to this where the armor 
 is now placed ; for he said that he felt as if it were 
 a cell like that which he hoped soon to inhabit in 
 his quiet cloister. All was done after his wish : my 
 sweet Verena nursed him, and he appeared at first 
 to be on the straightest road to recovery ; but his 
 head continued weak and liable to be confused by 
 the slightest emotion ; his walk was rather a falling 
 
blNTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 325 
 
 than a walking, and his cheeks were colorless. We 
 could not let him go. When we were sitting here 
 together in the evening, he used always to come tot- 
 tering into the hall through the low doorway ; and 
 my heart was sad and wrathful too, when the soft 
 eyes of Verena beamed so sweetly on him, and a glow 
 like that of the evening sky hovered over her lily 
 cheeks. But I bore it, and I could have borne it to 
 the end of our lives, — when, alas ! Verena went into 
 a cloister ! " 
 
 His head fell so heavily on his folded hands, that 
 the stone table seemed to groan beneath it, and he 
 remained a long while motionless as a corpse. When 
 he again raised himself up, his eyes glared fearfully 
 as he looked round the hall, and he said to Folko : 
 " Your beloved Hamburghers, Gotthard Lentz, and 
 Rudlieb his son, they have much to answer for ! 
 Who bid them come and be shipwrecked so close to 
 my castle ? " 
 
 Folko cast a piercing look on him, and a fearful 
 inquiry was on the point of escaping his lips, but 
 another look at the trembling Gabrielle made him 
 silent, at least for the present moment, and the 
 knight Biorn continued his narrative. 
 
 " Verena was with her nuns, I was left alone, 
 and my despair had driven me throughout the day 
 through forest and brake and mountain. In the 
 ^wilight I returned to my deserted castle, and 
 scarcely was I in the hall, when the little door 
 :;reaked, and Weigand, who had slept through all. 
 
326 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 crept towards me and asked ; ' Where can Verena 
 be ? ' Then I became as mad, and howled to him* 
 ' She is gone mad, and so am I, and you also, and 
 now we are all mad ! ' Merciful Heaven, the wound on 
 his head burst open, and a dark stream flowed over 
 his face — ah ! how different from the redness w'hen 
 Verena met him at the castle-gate ; and he rushed 
 forth, raving mad, into the wilderness without, and 
 ever since has wandered all around as a crazy pil- 
 grim." 
 
 He was silent, and so were Folko and Gabrielle, 
 all three pale and cold like images of the dead. At 
 length the fearful narrator added in a low voice, and 
 as if he were quite exhausted : " He has visited me 
 since that time, but he will never again come through 
 the little door. Have I not established peace and 
 order in my castle ? " 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 SmTRAM had not returned home, when those of 
 the castle betook themselves to rest in deep bewil- 
 derment. No one thought of him, for every heart 
 was filled with strange forebodings, and with uncer- 
 tain cares. Even the heroic breast of the knight of 
 Montfaucon heaved in doubt. 
 
 Old Rolf still remained without, weeping in the 
 forest, heedless of the storm which beat on his 
 unprotected head, while he waited for his young 
 master. But he had gone a very different way ; and 
 when the morning dawned, he entered the castle 
 from the opposite side. 
 
 Gabrielle's slumbers had been sweet during the 
 whole night. It had seemed to her that angels with 
 golden wings had blown away the wild histories of 
 the evening before, and had wafted to her the bright 
 flowers, the sparkling sea, and the green hills of her 
 own home. She smiled, and drew her breath calmly 
 and softly, whilst the magical tempest raged and 
 howled through the forests, and continued to battle 
 with the troubled sea. But in truth when she awoke 
 '.n the morning, and heard still the rattling of the 
 n^indows, and saw the clouds, as if dissolved in mist 
 
328 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 and steam, still hiding the face of the heavens, she 
 could have wept for anxiety and sadness, especially 
 when she heard from her maidens that Folko had 
 already left their apartment clad in full armor as if 
 prepared for a combat. At the same time she heard 
 the sound of the heavy tread of armed men in the 
 echoing halls, and, on inquiring, found that the 
 knight of Montfaucon had assembled all his retain- 
 ers to be in readiness to protect their lady. 
 
 Wrapped in a cloak of ermine, she stood trem- 
 bling like a tender flower just sprung up out of the 
 snow, tottering beneath a winter's storm. Then Sir 
 Folko entered the room, in all his shining armor, and 
 peacefully carrying his golden helmet with the long 
 shadowy plumes in his hand. He saluted Gabrielle 
 with cheerful serenity, and at a sign from him, her 
 attendants retired, while the men-at-arms without 
 were heard quietly dispersing. 
 
 " Lady," said he, as he took his seat beside her, on 
 a couch to which he led her, already reassured by 
 his presence, — " lady, will you forgive your knight 
 for having left you to endure some moments of 
 anxiety; but honor and stern justice called him. 
 Now all is set in order, quietly and peacefully ; dis- 
 miss your fears and every thought that has troubled 
 you, as things which are no more." 
 
 " But you and Biorn ? " asked Gabrielle. 
 
 " On the word of a knight," replied he, " all is well 
 there." And thereupon he began to talk over indif- 
 ferent subjects with his usual ease and wit ; but Ga- 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 329 
 
 brielle, bending towards him, said with deep emo- 
 tion, — 
 
 " O Folko, my knight, the flower of my life, my 
 protector and my dearest hope on earth, tell me all, 
 if thou mayst. But if a promise binds thee, it is 
 different. Thou knowest that I am of the race of 
 Portamour, and I would ask nothing from my knight 
 which could cast even a breath of suspicion on his 
 spotless shield." 
 
 Folko thought gravely for one instant ; then look- 
 ing at her with a bright smile, he said : " It is not 
 that, Gabrielle ; but canst thou bear what I have to 
 disclose ? Wilt thou not sink down under it, as a 
 slender fir gives way under a mass of snow ? " 
 
 She raised herself somewhat proudly, and said: 
 "I have already reminded thee of the name of my 
 father's house. Let me now add, that I am the 
 wedded wife of the Baron of Montfaucon." 
 
 " Then so let it be," replied Folko solemnly ; " and 
 if that must come forth openly which should ever 
 have remained hidden in the darkness which belongs 
 to such deeds of wickedness, at least let it come 
 forth less fearfully with a sudden flash. Know then, 
 Gabrielle, that the wicked knight who would have 
 slain my friends Gotthard and Rudlieb is none other 
 than our kinsman and host, Biorn of the Fiery 
 Eyes." 
 
 Gabrielle shuddered and covered her eyes with 
 ner fair hands; but at the end of a moment she 
 looked up with a bewildered aii, and said : " I have 
 
330 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 heard wrong surely, although it is true that yesterday 
 evening such a thought struck me. For did not you 
 say awhile ago that all was settled and at peace be- 
 tween you and Biorn ? Between the brave baron 
 and such a man after such a crime ? " 
 
 " You heard aright," answered Folko, looking with 
 fond delight on the delicate yet high-minded lady. 
 " This morning with the earliest dawn I went to him 
 and challenged him to a mortal combat in the neigh- 
 boring valley, if he were the man whose castle had 
 well-nigh become an altar of sacrifice to Gotthard 
 and Rudlieb. He was already completely armed, 
 and merely saying, * I am he,' he followed me to the 
 forest. But when we stood alone at the place of 
 combat, he flung away his shield down a giddy prec- 
 ipice ; then his sword was hurled after it ; and next 
 with gigantic strength he tore off his coat of mail, 
 and said, ' Now fall on, thou minister of vengeance ; 
 for I am a heavy sinner, and I dare not fight with 
 thee.' How could I then attack him ? A strange 
 truce was agreed on between us. He is half as my 
 vassal, and yet I solemnly forgave him in my own 
 name and in that of my friends. He was contrite, 
 and yet no tear was in his eye, no gentle word on 
 his lips. He is only kept under by the power with 
 which I am endued by having right on my side, and 
 it is on that tenure that Biorn is my vassal. I know 
 not, lady, whether you can bear to see us together 
 on these terms ; if not, I will ask for hospitality in 
 some other castle ; there are none in Norway which 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 331 
 
 would not receive us joyfully and honorably, and 
 this wild autumnal storm may put off our voyage for 
 many a day. Only this I think, that if we depart 
 directly and in such a manner, the heart of this sav- 
 age man will break." 
 
 " Where my noble lord remains, there I also re- 
 main joyfully under his protection," replied Ga- 
 brielle ; and again her heart glowed with rapture at 
 the greatness of her knight. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 The noble lady had just unbuckled her knight's 
 armor with her own fair hands, — on the field of 
 battle alone were pages or esquires bidden handle 
 Montfaucon's armor, — and now she was throwing 
 over his shoulders his mantle of blue velvet em- 
 broidered with gold, when the door opened gently, 
 and Sintram entered the room, humbly greeting 
 them. Gabrielle received him kindly, as she was 
 wont, but suddenly turning pale, she looked away 
 and said, — 
 
 " O Sintram, what has happened to you ? And 
 how can one single night have so fearfully altered 
 you ? " 
 
 Sintram stood still, thunderstruck, and feeling as 
 if he himself did not know what had befallen him. 
 Then Folko took him by the hand, led him towards 
 a bright polished shield, and said very earnestly, 
 " Look here at yourself, young knight ! " ' 
 
 At the first glance Sintram drew back horrified. 
 He fancied that he saw the little Master before him 
 with that single upright feather sticking out of his 
 cap ; but he at length perceived that the mirror was 
 only showing him his own image and none other, 
 
SINfRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 333 
 
 and that his own wild dagger had given him this 
 strange and spectre-like aspect, as he could not deny 
 to himself. 
 
 " Who has done that to you ? " asked Folko, yet 
 more grave and solemn. " And what terror makes 
 your disordered hair stand on end ? " 
 
 Sintram knew not what to answer. He felt as if 
 a judgment were coming on him, and a shameful 
 degrading from his knightly rank. Suddenly Folko 
 drew him away from the shield, and taking him to- 
 wards the rattling window, he asked : " Whence 
 comes this tempest ? " 
 
 Still Sintram kept silence. His limbs began to 
 tremble under him ; and Gabrielle, pale and ter- 
 rified, whispered, " O Folko, my knight, what has 
 happened ? Oh, tell me ; are we come into an en- 
 chanted castle ? " 
 
 "The land of our northern ancestors," replied 
 Folko with solemnity, " is full of mysterious knowl- 
 edge. But we may not, for all that, call its people 
 enchanters ; still this youth has cause to watch him- 
 self narrowly ; he whom the evil one has touched by 
 so much as one hair of his head " . . . . 
 
 Sintram heard no more ; with a deep groan he 
 staggered out of the room. As he left it, he met 
 old Rolf, still almost benumbed by the cold and 
 storms of the night. Now, in his joy at again seeing 
 his young master, he did not remark his altered ap- 
 pearance ; but as he accompanied him to his sleeping 
 room he said, " Witches and spirits of the tempest 
 
334 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 must have taken up their abode on the sea-shore. 
 I am certain that such wild storms never arise with- 
 out some devib'sh arts." 
 
 Sintram fell into a fainting-fit, from which Eolf 
 could with difficulty recover him sufficiently to ap- 
 pear in the great hall at the mid-day hour. But 
 before he went down, he caused a shield to be 
 brought, saw himself therein, and cut close round, in 
 grief and horror, the rest of his long black hair, so 
 that he made himself look almost like a monk ; and 
 thus he joined the others already assembled round 
 the table. They all looked at him with surprise; 
 but old Biorn rose up and said fiercely, " Are you 
 going to betake yourself to a cloister, as well as the 
 fair lady your mother ? " 
 
 A commanding look from the Baron of Montfau- 
 con checked any farther outbreak ; and as if in apol- 
 ogy, Biorn added, with a forced smile, " I was only 
 thinking if any accident had befallen him, like Ab- 
 salom's, and if he had been obliged to save himself 
 from being strangled by parting with all his hair." 
 
 " You should not jest with holy things," answered 
 the baron severely, and all were silent. No sooner 
 was the rep'ast ended, than Folko and Gabrielle, 
 with a grave and courteous salutation, retired to their 
 Bpartments. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Life in the castle took from this time quite an- 
 other form. Those two bright beings, Folko and 
 Gabrielle, spent most part of the day in their apart- 
 ments, and when they showed themselves, it was 
 with quiet dignity and grave silence, while Biorn and 
 Sintram stood before them in humble fear. Never- 
 theless, Biorn could not bear the thought of his 
 guests seeking shelter in any other knight's abode. 
 When Folko once spoke of it, something like a tear 
 stood in the wild man's eye. His head sank, and he 
 said softly, " As you please ; but I feel that if you go, 
 I shall run among the rocks for days." , 
 
 And thus they all remained together ; for the 
 storm continued to rage with such increasing fury 
 over the sea, that no sea voyage could be thought of, 
 and the oldest man in Norway could not call to mind 
 such an autumn. The priests examined all the 
 Kunic books, the bards looked through their lays 
 and tales, and yet they could find no record of the 
 like. Biorn and Sintram braved the tempest ; but 
 during the few hours in which Folko and Gabrielle 
 showed themselves, the father and son were always 
 in the castle, as if respectfully waiting upon them ; 
 
336 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 the rest of the day — nay, often through whole 
 nights, they rushed through the forests and over the 
 rocks in pursuit of bears. Folko the while called 
 up all the brightness of his fancy, all his courtly 
 grace, in order to make Gabrielle forget that she 
 was living in this wild castle, and that the long, hard 
 northern winter was setting in, which would ice them 
 in for many a month. Sometimes he would relate 
 bright tales ; then he would play the liveliest airs to 
 induce Gabrielle to lead a dance with her attendants ; 
 then, again, handing his lute to one of the women, 
 he would himself take a part in the dance, well 
 knowing to express thereby after some new fashion 
 his devotion to his lady. Another time he would 
 have the spacious halls of the castle prepared for his 
 armed retainers to go through their warlike exer- 
 cises, and Gabrielle always adjudged the reward to 
 the conqueror. Folko often joined the circle of 
 com]3atants ; yet so that he only met their attacks, 
 defending himself, but depriving no one of the prize. 
 The Norwegians, who stood around as spectators, 
 used to compare him to the demigod Baldur, one of 
 the heroes of their old traditions, who was wont to 
 let the darts of his companions be all hurled against 
 him, conscious that he was invulnerable, and of his 
 own indwelling strength. 
 
 At the close of one of these martial exercises, old 
 Rolf advanced towards Folko, and beckoning him 
 with an humble look, said softly, " They call you the 
 beautiful, mighty Baldur, — and they are right. But 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 337 
 
 even the beautiful, mighty Baldur did not escape 
 death. Take heed to yourself." Folko looked at 
 him wondering. " Not that I know of any treach- 
 ery," continued the old man ; " or that I can even 
 foresee the likelihood of any. God keep a Norwe- 
 gian from such a fear. But when you stand before 
 me in all the brightness of your glory, the fleeting- 
 ness of everything earthly weighs down my mind, 
 and I cannot refrain from saying, ' Take heed, noble 
 baron ! oh, take heed ! Even the most beautiful 
 glory comes to an end.' " 
 
 " Those are wise and pious thoughts," replied 
 Folko calmly, " and I will treasure them in a pure 
 heart." 
 
 The good Rolf was often with Folko and Gabri- 
 elle, and made a connecting link between the two 
 widely differing parties in the castle. For how could 
 he have ever forsaken his own Sintram ! Only in 
 the wild hunting expeditions through the howling 
 storms and tempests he no longer was able to follow 
 his young lord. 
 
 At length the icy reign of winter began in all its 
 glory. On this account a return to Normandy was 
 impossible, and therefore the magical storm was 
 lulled. The hills and valleys shone brilliantly in 
 their white attire of snow, and Folko used some- 
 times, with skates on his feet, to draw his lady in a 
 light sledge over the glittering frozen lakes and 
 streams. On the other hand, the bear-hunts of the 
 22 
 
338 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 lord of the castle and his son took a still more des- 
 perate and to them joyous course. 
 
 About, this time, — when Christmas was drawing 
 near, and Sintram was seeking to overpower his 
 dread of the awful dreams by the most daring ex- 
 peditions, — about this time, Folko and Gabrielle 
 stood together on one of the terraces of the castle. 
 The evening was mild; the snow-clad fields were 
 glowing in the red light of the setting sun ; from 
 below there were heard men's voices singing songs 
 of ancient heroic times, while they worked in the 
 armorer's forge. At last the songs died away, the 
 beating of hammers ceased, and, without the speak- 
 ers being seen, or there being any possibility of 
 distinguishing them by their voices, the following 
 discourse arose : — 
 
 " Who is the bravest amongst all those whose race 
 derives its origin from our renowned land ? " 
 
 '' It is Folko of Montfaucon." 
 
 " Rightly said ; but tell me, is there anything from 
 which even this bold baron draws back ? " 
 
 " In truth there is one thing, — and we who have 
 never left Norway face it quite willingly and joy- 
 fully." 
 
 "And that is — ?" 
 
 " A bear-hunt in winter, over trackless plains of 
 Bnow, down frightful ice-covered precipices." 
 
 " Truly thou answerest aright, my comrade. He 
 who knows not how to fasten our skates on his feet, 
 how to turn in them to the rioht or left at a mo- 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 339 
 
 ment's warning, he may be a valiant knight in other 
 respects, but he had better keep away from our hunt- 
 ing parties, and remain with his timid wife in her 
 apartments.'* At which the speakers were heard to 
 laugh well pleased, and then to betake themselves 
 again to their armorers' work. 
 
 Folko stood long buried in thought. A glow be- 
 yond that of the evening sky reddened his cheek. 
 Gabrielle also remained silent, considering she knew 
 not what. At last she took courage, and embracing 
 her beloved, she said : " To-morrow thou wilt go 
 forth to hunt the bear, wilt thou not? and thou wilt 
 bring the spoils of the chase to thy lady ? " 
 
 The knight gave a joyful sign of assent ; and the 
 rest of the evening was spent in dances and music 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 " See, my noble lord," said Sintram the next 
 morning, when Folko had expressed his wish of 
 going out with him, " these skates of ours give such 
 wings to our course, that we go down the mountain- 
 side swiftly as the wind ; and even in going up again 
 we are too quick for any one to be able to pursue us, 
 and on the plains no horse can keep up with us ; and 
 yet they can only be worn with safety by those wha 
 are well practiced. It seems as though some strange 
 spirit dwelt in them, which is fearfully dangerous to 
 any that have not learnt the management of them in 
 their childhood." 
 
 Folko answered somewhat proudly : " Do you sup- 
 pose that this is the first time that I have been 
 amongst your mountains ? Years ago I have joined 
 in this sport, and, thank Heaven, there is no knightly 
 exercise which does not speedily become familiar to 
 me." 
 
 Sintram did not venture to make any further ob- 
 jections, and still less did old Biorn. They both 
 felt relieved when they saw with what skill and ease 
 Folko buckled the skates on his feet, without suffer- 
 ing any one to assist him. This day they hunted up 
 the mountain in pursuit of a fierce bear which had 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. ?A1 
 
 ciften before escaped from them. Before long it was 
 necessary that they should separate, and Sintram 
 offered himself as companion to Folko, who, touched 
 by the humble manner of the youth, and his devo- 
 tion to him, forgot all that had latterly seemed mys- 
 terious in the pale altered being before him, and 
 agreed heartily. As now they continued to climb 
 higher and higher up the mountain, and saw from 
 many a giddy height the rocks and crags below them 
 looking like a vast expanse of sea suddenly turned 
 into ice whilst tossed by a violent tempest, the no- 
 ble Montfaucon drew Jbis breath more freely. He 
 poured forth war-songs and love-songs in the clear 
 mountain air, and the startled echoes repeated from 
 rock to rock the lays of his Prankish home. He 
 sprang lightly from one precipice to another, using 
 strongly and safely his staff for support, and turning 
 now to the right, now to the left, as the fancy seized 
 him ; so that Sintram was fain to exchange his former 
 anxiety for a wondering admiration, and the hunters, 
 whose eyes had never been taken off the baron, 
 burst forth with loud applause, proclaiming far and 
 wide the fresh glory of their guest. 
 
 The good fortune which usually accompanied Fol- 
 ko's deeds of arms seemed still unwilling to leave 
 him. After a short search, he and Sintram found 
 distinct traces of the savage animal, and with beating 
 hearts they followed the track so swiftly, that even 
 a winged enemy would have been unable to escape 
 from them. But the creature whom they sought 
 
342 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 did not attempt a flight ; he lay sulkily in a cavern 
 near the top of a steep precipitous rock, infuriated by 
 the shouts of the hunters, and only waiting in his 
 lazy fury for some one to be bold enough to climb 
 up to his retreat, that he might tear him to pieces. 
 Folko and Sintram had now reached the foot of this 
 rock, the rest of the hunters being dispersed over 
 the far-extending plain. The track led the two 
 companions up the rock, and they set about climb- 
 ing on the opposite sides of it, that they might be 
 the more sure of not missing their prey. Folko 
 reached the lonely topmost point first, and cast his 
 eyes around. A wide, boundless tract of country, 
 covered with untrodden snow, was spread before 
 him, melting in the distance into the lowering clouds 
 of the gloomy evening sky. He almost thought that 
 he must have missed the traces of the fearful beast ; 
 when close beside him from a cleft in the rock is- 
 sued a long growl, and a huge black bear appeared 
 on the snow, standing on its hind legs, and with 
 glaring eyes it ^advanced towards the baron. Sin- 
 tram the while was struggling in vain to make his 
 way up the rock against the masses of snow contin- 
 ually slipping down. 
 
 Joyful at a combat so long untried as almost to 
 be new, Folko of Montfaucon leveled his hunting 
 spear, and awaited the attack of the wild beast. He 
 suffered it to approach so near that its fearful claws 
 were almost upon him ; then he made a thrust, and 
 the spear-head was buried deep in the bear's breast 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 343 
 
 But the furious beast still pressed on with a fierce 
 growl, kept up on its hind legs by the cross-iron of 
 the spear, and the knight was forced to plant his feet 
 deep in the earth to resist the savage assault ; and 
 ever close before him the grim and bloody face of 
 the bear, and close in his ear its deep savage growl, 
 wrung forth partly by the agony of death, partly by 
 thirst for blood. At length the bear's resistance 
 grew weaker, and the dark blood streamed freely 
 upon the snow ; he tottered, and one powerful 
 thrust hurled him backwards over the edge of the 
 precipice. At the same instant, Sintram stood by 
 the Baron of Montfaucon. Folko said, drawing a 
 deep breath : " But I have not yet the prize in my 
 hands, and have it I must, since fortune has given 
 me a claim to it. Look, one of my skates seems to 
 be out of order. Thinkest thou, Sintram, that it 
 holds enough to slide down to the foot of the preci- 
 pice?" 
 
 " Let me go instead," said Sintram. " I will bring 
 you the head and the claws of the bear." 
 
 " A true knight," replied Folko with some dis- 
 pleasure, " never does a knightly deed by halves. 
 What I ask is, whether my skate will still hold ? " 
 
 As Sintram bent down to look, and was on the 
 point of saying, " No ! " he suddenly heard a voice 
 close to him, saying, " Why, yes, to be sure ; there 
 is no doubt about it." 
 
 Folko thought that Sintram had spoken, and slid 
 down with the swiftness of an arrow, whilst his com- 
 
344 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 panion looked up in great surprise. The hated form 
 of the little Master met his eyes. As he was going 
 to address him with angry words, he heard the sound 
 of the baron's fearful fall, and he stood still in si- 
 lent horror. There was a breathless silence also in 
 the abyss below. 
 
 " Now, why dost thou delay ? " said the little Mas* 
 ter, after a pause. " He is dashed to pieces. Go back 
 to the castle, and take the fair Helen to thyself " 
 
 Sintram shuddered. Then his hateful companion 
 began to praise Gabrielle's charms in so glowing^ 
 deceiving words, that the heart of the youth swelled 
 with emotions he had never before known. He only 
 thought of him who was now lying at the foot of the 
 rock as of an obstacle removed between him and 
 heaven : he turned towards the castle. 
 
 But a cry was heard below : " Help ! help ! my 
 comrade ! I am yet alive, but I am sorely wounded.' 
 
 Sintram's will was changed, and he called to the 
 baron, " I am coming." 
 
 But the little Master said, " Nothing can be done 
 to help Duke Menelaus ; and the fair Helen knows 
 it already. She is only waiting for Knight Paris to 
 comfort her." And with detestable craft he wove in 
 that tale with what was actually happening, bringing 
 in the most highly wrought praises of the lovely Ga- 
 brielle ; and alas ! the dazzled youth yielded to him, 
 and fled ! Again he heard far off the baron's voice 
 calling to him, " Knight Sintram, Knight Sintram, 
 thou on whom I bestowed the holy order, haste to 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 345 
 
 nae and help me ! The she-bear and her whelps 
 will be upon me, and I cannot use my right arm ! 
 Knight Sintram, Knight Sintram, haste to help nie ! " 
 
 His cries were overpowered by the furious speed 
 with which the two were carried along on their 
 skates, and by the evil words of the little Master, 
 'who was mocking at the late proud bearing of Duke 
 Menelaus towards the poor Sintram. At last he 
 shouted, " Good luck to you, she-bear ! good luck to 
 your whelps ! There is a glorious meal for you ! Now 
 you will feed upon the fear of Heathendom, him at 
 whose name the Moorish brides weep, the mighty Ba- 
 ron of Montfaucon. Never again, O dainty knight, 
 will you shout at the head of your troops, ' Mountjoy 
 St. Denys ! ' " But scarce had this holy name passed 
 the lips of the little Master, than he set up a howl of 
 anguish, writhing himself with horrible contortions, 
 and wringing his hands, and ended by disappearing 
 in a storm of snow which then arose. 
 
 Sintram planted his staff firmly in the ground, and 
 stopped. How strangely did the wide expanse of 
 snow, the distant mountains rising above it, and the 
 dark green fir-woods — how strangely did they all 
 look at him in cold reproachful silence ! He felt as 
 if he must sink under the weight of his sorrow and 
 his guilt. The bell of a distant hermitage came 
 floating sadly over the plain. With a burst of tears he 
 exclaimed, as the darkness grew thicker round him, 
 ' My mother ! my mother! I had once a belo\ed, 
 tender mother, and she said I was a good child ! " A 
 
346 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 ray of comfort came to him as if brought on an an- 
 gel's wing ; perhaps Montfaucon was not yet dead ] 
 and he ftew Hke lightning along the path, back to 
 the steep rock. When he got to the fearful place, 
 he stooped and looked anxiously down the precipice. 
 The moon, just risen in full majesty, helped him. 
 The knight of Montfaucon, pale and bleeding, was 
 half kneeling against the rock ; his right arm? 
 crushed in his fall, hung powerless at his side ; it 
 was plain that he could not draw his good sword out 
 of the scabbard. But nevertheless he was keeping 
 the bear and her young ones at bay by his bold 
 threatening looks, so that they only crept round him, 
 growling angrily ; every moment ready for a fierce 
 attack, but as often driven back affrighted at the ma- 
 jestic air by which he conquered even when defense 
 less. 
 
 " Oh, what a hero would there have perished ! " 
 groaned Sintram, " and through whose guilt ? " Tn 
 an instant his spear flew with so true an aim that 
 the bear fell weltering in her blood ; the young ones 
 ran away howling. 
 
 The baron looked up with surprise. His coun- 
 tenance beamed as the light of the moon fell upon it, 
 grave and stern, yet mild, like some angelic vision. 
 " Come down ! " he beckoned ; and Sintram slid 
 down the side of the precipice, full of anxious haste. 
 He was going to attend to the wounded man, but 
 Folko said, " First cut off the head and claws of the 
 bear which I slew. I promised to bring the spoils 
 
SIN TRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 347 
 
 of the chase to my lovely Gabrielle. Then come 
 to me, and bind up my wounds. My right arm is 
 broken." Sintram obeyed the baron's commands. 
 When the tokens of victory had been secured, and 
 the broken arm bound up, Folko desired the youth 
 to help him back to the castle. 
 
 " O heavens ! " said Sintram in a low voice, " if 
 I dared to look in your face ! or only knew how to 
 come near you ! " 
 
 "Thou wert indeed going on in an evil course," 
 said Montfaucon gravely ; " but how could we, any 
 of us, stand before God, did not repentance help us ! 
 At any rate, thou hast now saved my life, and let 
 that thought cheer thy heart." 
 
 The youth with tenderness and strength supported 
 the baron's left arm, and they both went their way 
 silently in the moonlight. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Sounds of wailing were heard from the castle as 
 they approached ; the chapel was solemnly lighted 
 up ; within it knelt Gabrieile, lamenting for tho 
 death of the knight of Montfaucon. 
 
 But how quickly was all changed, when the noble 
 baron, pale indeed, and bleeding, yet having escaped 
 all mortal danger, stood smiling at the entrance of 
 the holy building, and said, in a low, gentle voice, 
 " Look up, Gabrieile, and be not affrighted ; for, by 
 the honor of my race, thy knight still lives." Oh 1 with 
 what joy did Gabrielle's eyes sparkle, as she turned 
 to her knight, and then raised them again to heaven, 
 still streaming, but from the deep source of thankful 
 joy ! With the help of two pages, Folko knelt down 
 beside her, and they .both sanctified their happiness 
 with a silent prayer. 
 
 When they lefl the chapel, the wounded knight 
 being tenderly supported by his lady, Sintram was 
 standing without in the darkness, himself as gloomy 
 as the night, and, like a bird of the night, shunning 
 the sight of men. Yet he came trembling forward 
 Into the torch-light, laid the bear's head and claws 
 5t the feet of Gabrieile, and said, " The noble Folko 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 349 
 
 of Montfaucon presents the spoils of to-day's chase 
 to his lady." 
 
 The Norwegians burst forth with shouts of joyful 
 surprise at the stranger knight, who in the very first 
 hunting expedition had slain the most fearful and 
 dangerous beast of their mountains. 
 
 Then Folko looked around with a smile as he said, 
 " And now none of you nnist jeer at me, if I stay 
 at home for a short time with my timid wife. " 
 
 Those who the day before had talked together in 
 the armorer's forge, came out from the crowd, and 
 bowing low, they replied, " Noble baron, who could 
 have thought that there was no knightly exercise in 
 the whole world in the which you would not show 
 yourself far above all other men ? " 
 
 "The pupil of old Sir Hugh may be somewhat 
 trusted," answered Folko, kindly. " But now, you 
 bold northern warriors, bestow some praises also on 
 my deliverer who saved me from the claws of the 
 she-bear, when I was leaning against the rock 
 wounded by my fall." 
 
 He pointed to Sintram, and the general shout was 
 again raised ; and old Rolf, with tears of joy in his 
 eyes, bent his head over his foster-son's hand. But 
 Sintram drew back shuddering. 
 
 " Did you but know," said he, " whom you see 
 before you, all your spears would be aimed at my 
 heart ; and perhaps that would be the best thing for 
 me. But I spare the honor of my father and of his 
 race, and for this time I will not confess. Only this 
 much must you know, noble warriors " — 
 
350 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 " Young man," interrupted Folko with a reproving 
 look, "already again so wild and fierce? I desire 
 that thou wilt hold thy peace about thy dreaming 
 fancies." 
 
 Sintram was silenced for a moment ; but hardly 
 had Folko begun smilingly to move towards the 
 steps of the castle, than he cried out, " Oh, no, no, 
 noble wounded knight, stay yet awhile ; I will serve 
 thee in everything that thy heart can desire ; but 
 herein I cannot serve thee. Brave warriors, you 
 must and shall know so much as this : I am no 
 longer worthy to live under the same roof with the 
 noble Baron of Montfaucon and his angelic wife 
 Gabrielle. And you, my aged father, good night; 
 long not for me. I intend to live in the stone for- 
 tress on the Rocks of the Moon, till a change of 
 some kind come over me. 
 
 There was that in his way of speaking against 
 which no one dared to set himself, not even Folko. 
 
 Th^ wild Biorn bowed his head humbly, and said, 
 " Do according to thy pleasure, my poor son ; for I 
 fear that thou art right." 
 
 Then vSintram walked solemnly and silently 
 through the castle-gate, followed by the good Rolf. 
 Gabrielle led her exhausted lord up to their apart- 
 ments. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 That was a mournful journey on which the youth 
 and his aged foster-father went towards the Rocks 
 of the Moon, through the wild tangled paths of the 
 snow-clad valleys. Rolf from time to time sang 
 some verses of hymns, in which comfort and peace 
 were promised to the penitent sinner, and Sintram 
 thanked him for them with looks of grateful sadness. 
 Neither of them spoke a word else. 
 
 At length, when the dawn of day was approaching, 
 Sintram broke silence by saying, '^ Who are those 
 two sitting yonder by the frozen stream — a tall 
 man and a little one ? Their own wild hearts must 
 have driven them also forth into the wilderness. 
 Rolf, dost thou know them ? The sight of them 
 makes me shudder." 
 
 " Sir," answered the old man, " your disturbed 
 mind deceives you. There stands a lofty fir-tree, 
 and the old weather-beaten stump of an oak, half- 
 covered with snow, which gives them a somewhat 
 strange appearance. There are no men sitting 
 yonder." 
 
 " But Rolf, look there ! look again carefully ! Now 
 they move, they whisper together." 
 
352 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 " Sir, the morning breeze moves the branches, and 
 whistles in the sharp pine-leaves and in the yellow 
 oak-leaves, and rustles the crisp snow." 
 
 " Rolf, now they are both coming towards us. 
 Now they are standing before us, quite close." 
 
 " Sir, it is we who get nearer to them as we walk 
 on, and the setting moon throws such long giant- 
 like shadows over the plain." 
 
 " Good evening ! " said a hollow voice ; and Sin- 
 tram knew it was the crazy pilgrim, near to whom 
 stood the malignant little Master, looking more hid- 
 eous than ever. 
 
 " You are right, sir knight," whispered Rolf, as he 
 drew back 'behind Sintram, and made the sign of 
 the cross on his breast and his forehead. 
 
 The bewildered youth, however, advanced towards 
 the two figures, and said, " You have always taken 
 wonderful pleasure in being my companions. What 
 do you expect will come of it ? And do you choose 
 to go now with me to the stone fortress ? There I 
 will tend thee, poor pale pilgrim ; and as to thee, 
 frightful Master, most evil dwarf, I will make thee 
 shorter by the head, to reward thee for thy deeds 
 yesterday." 
 
 " That would be a fine thing," sneered the little 
 Master ; " and perhaps thou imaginest that thou 
 wouldst be doing a great service to the whole world ? 
 And, indeed, who knows ? Something might be 
 gained by it ! Only, poor wretch, thou canst not do 
 
 it" 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 353 
 
 The pilgrim meantime was waving his pale head 
 to and fro thoughtfully, saying. "I believe truly, that 
 thou wouldst willingly have me, and I would go to 
 thee willingly, but I may not yet. Have patience 
 awhile ; thou wilt yet surely see me come, but at a 
 distant time ; and first we must again visit thy father 
 together, and then also thou wilt learn to call me by 
 my right name, my poor friend." 
 
 " Beware of disappointing me again ! " said the 
 little Master to the pilgrim in a threatening voice ; 
 but he, pointing with his long, shriveled hand to- 
 wards the sun, which was just now rising, said, 
 " Stop either that sun or me, if thou canst ! " 
 
 Then the first rays fell on the snow, and little 
 Master ran, muttering, down a precipice ; but the 
 pilgrim walked on in the bright beams, calmly and 
 with great solemnity, towards a neighboring castle 
 on the mountain. It was not long before its chapel- 
 bell was heard tolling for the dead. 
 
 " For Heaven's sake," whispered the good Rolf to 
 his knight, — " for Heaven's sake, Sir Sintram, what 
 kind of companions have you here ? One of them 
 cannot bear the light of God's blessed sun, and the 
 other has no sooner set foot in a dwelling than tid- 
 ings of death wail after his track. Could he have 
 been a murderer ? " 
 
 " 1 do not think that," said Sintram. " He seemed 
 to me the best of the two. But it is a strange will- 
 fulness of his not to come with me. Did I not in- 
 vite him kindly ? I believe that he can sing well, 
 23 
 
354 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 and he should have sung to me some gently killaby. 
 Since my mother has lived in a cloister, no one sings 
 lullabies to me any more." 
 
 At this tender recollection his eyes vi^ere bedewed 
 with tears. But he did not himself know what he 
 had said besides, for there was wildness and con- 
 fusion in his spirit. They arrived at the Rocks of 
 the Moon, and mounted up to the stone fortress. 
 The castellan, an old, gloomy man, the more devoted 
 to the young knight from his dark melancholy 
 and wild deeds, hastened to lower the draw-bridge. 
 Greetings were exchanged in silence, and in silence 
 did Sintram enter, and those joyless gates closed 
 with a crash behind the future recluse. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Yes truly, a recluse, or at least something like it, 
 did poor Sintram now become ! For towards the 
 time of the approaching Christmas festival his fear- 
 ful dreams came over him, and seized him so 
 fiercely, that all the esquires and servants fled with 
 shrieks out of the castle, and would never venture 
 back again. No one remained with him except Rolf 
 and the old castellan. After a while, indeed, Sin- 
 tram became calm, but he went about looking so 
 pallid and still, that he might have been taken for 
 a wandering corpse. No comforting of the good 
 Rolf, no devout soothing lays, were of any avail ; 
 and the castellan, with his fierce, scarred features, 
 his head almost entirely bald from a huge sword- 
 cut, his stubborn silence, seemed like a yet darker 
 shadow of the miserable knight. Rolf often thought 
 of going to summon the holy chaplain of Drontheim ; 
 but how could he have left his lord alone with the 
 gloomy castellan, a man who at all times raised in 
 him a secret horror ? Biorn had long had this wild 
 strange warrior in his service, and honored him on 
 account of his unshaken fidelity and his fearless 
 courage, though neither the knight nor any one else 
 
366 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 knew whence the castellan came, nor, indeed, exactly 
 who he was. Very few people knew by what name 
 to call him ; but that was the more needless, since 
 he never entered into discourse with any one. He 
 was the castellan of the stone fortress on the Rocks 
 of the Moon, and nothing more. 
 
 Rolf committed his deep heartfelt cares to the 
 merciful God, trusting that He would soon come to 
 his aid ; and the merciful God did not fail him. For 
 on Christmas Eve the bell at the draw-bridge sound- 
 ed, and Rolf, looking over the battlements, saw the 
 chaplain of Drontheim standing there, with a com- 
 panion, indeed, that surprised him ; for close be- 
 side him appeared the crazy pilgrim, and the dead 
 men's bones on his dark mantle shone very strangely 
 in the glimmering starlight: but the sight of the 
 chaplain filled the good Rolf too full of joy to leave 
 room for any doubt in his mind ; for, thought he, 
 whoever comes with him cannot but be welcome! 
 And so he let them both in with respectful haste 
 and ushered them up to the hall, where Sintram, 
 pale and with a fixed look, was sitting under the 
 light of one flickering lamp. Rolf was obliged to 
 support and assist the crazy pilgrim up the stairs, for 
 he was quite benumbed with cold. 
 
 " I bring ' you a greeting from your mother," said 
 the chaplain as he came in ; and immediately a 
 sweet smile passed over the young knight's (^ounte- 
 nance, and its deadly pallidness gave place to a bright 
 soft glow. 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 357 
 
 " O Heaven ! " murmured he, " does then my 
 mother yet live, and does she care to know any- 
 thing about me ? " 
 
 " She is endowed with a wonderful presentiment of 
 the future," replied the chaplain ; " and all that you 
 ought either to do or to leave undone is faithfully 
 mirrored in various ways in her mind, during a half- 
 waking trance. Now she knows of your deep sor- 
 row ; and she sends me, the father-confessor of her 
 convent, to comfort you, but at the same time to 
 warn you ; for, as she affirms, and as I am also in- 
 clined to think, many strange and heavy trials lie 
 before you." 
 
 Sintram bowed himself towards the chaplain with 
 his arms crossed over his breast, and said, with a 
 gentle smile, " Much have I been favored — more, a 
 thousand times more, than I could have dared to 
 hope in my best hours — by this greeting from my 
 mother, and your visit, reverend sir ; and all after 
 falling more fearfully low than I had ever fallen 
 before. The mercy of the Lord is great ; and how 
 heavy soever may be the weight and punishment 
 which he may send, I trust, with His grace, to be 
 able to bear it." 
 
 Just then the door opened, and the castellan came 
 in with a torch in his hand, the red glare of which 
 made his face look the color of blood. He cast a 
 terrified glance at the crazy pilgrim, who had just 
 Bunk back in a swoon, and was supported on his seat 
 and tended bv Rolf; then he stared with astonish- 
 
358 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 ment at the chaplain, and at last murmured, "A 
 strange meeting ! I believe that the hour for confes 
 sion and reconciliation is now arrived." 
 
 " I believe so too," replied the priest, who had 
 heard his low whisper ; " this seems to be truly a day 
 rich in grace and peace. That poor man yonder, 
 whom I found half frozen by the way, would make a 
 full confession to me at once, before he followed me 
 to a place of shelter. Do as he has done, my dark- 
 browed warrior, and delay not your good purpose for 
 one instant." 
 
 Thereupon he left the room with the willing cas- 
 tellan, but he turned back to say, " Sir Knight, and 
 your esquire ! take good care the while of my sick 
 charge." 
 
 Sintram and Rolf did according to the chaplain's 
 desire ; and when at length their cordials made the 
 pilgrim open his eyes once again, the young knight 
 said to him with a friendly smile, '■ Seest thou ? thou 
 art come to visit me, after all. Why didst thou re- 
 fuse me when, a few nights ago, I asked thee so 
 earnestly to come ? Perhaps I may have spoken 
 wildly and hastily.* Did that scare thee away ? " 
 
 " A sudden expression of fear came over the pil- 
 grim's countenance ; but soon he again looked up at 
 Sintram with an air of gentle humility, saying, " 
 my dear, dear lord, I am most entirely devoted to 
 you — only never speak to me of former passages 
 between you and me. I am terrified whenever you 
 do it. For my lord, either I am mad and have for- 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 359 
 
 gotten all that is past, or that Being has met you in 
 the wood, whom I look upon as my very powerful 
 twill-brother." 
 
 Sintram laid his hand gently on the pilgrim's 
 mouth, as he answered, " Say nothing more about 
 that matter : I most willingly promise to be silent." 
 
 Neither he nor old Rolf could understand what 
 appeared to them so awful in the whole matter ; but 
 both shuddered. 
 
 After a short pause, the pilgrim said, " I would 
 rather sing you a song — a sofl, comforting song. 
 Have you not a lute here ? " 
 
 Rolf fetched one ; and the pilgrim, half-raising 
 nimself on the couch, sang the following words ; — 
 
 " When death is coming near, 
 When thy heart shrinks in fear, 
 
 And thy limbs fail, 
 Then raise thy hands and pray 
 To Him who smooths thy way 
 
 Through the dark vale. 
 
 " Seest thou the eastern dawn, 
 Hear'st thou in the red mom 
 
 The angel's song? 
 Oh, lift thy drooping haad, 
 Thou who in gloom and dread 
 Hast lain so long. 
 
 " Death comes to set thee free; 
 Oh, meet him cheerily 
 
 As thy true friend. 
 And all thy fears shall cease, 
 And in eternal peace 
 
 Tliy penance end." 
 
B60 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 "Amen," said Sintram and Rolf, folding their 
 hands ; and whilst the last chords of the lute stil^ 
 resounded, the chaplain and the castellan came 
 slowly and gently into the room. " I bring a pre- 
 cious Christmas gift," said the priest. " After many 
 sad years, hope of reconciliation and peace of con- 
 science are returning to a noble, disturbed mind. 
 This concerns thee, beloved pilgrim ; and do thou, 
 my Sintram, with a joyful trust in God, take encour- 
 agement and example from it." 
 
 " More than twenty years ago," began the castel- 
 lan, at a sign from the chaplain — " more than 
 twenty years ago I was a bold shepherd, driving my 
 flock up the mountains. A young knight followed 
 me, whom they called Weigand the Slender. He 
 wanted to buy of me my favorite little lamb for his 
 fair bride, and offered me much red gold for it. ,1 
 sturdily refused. Overbold youth boiled up in us 
 both. A stroke of his sword hurled me senseless 
 down the precipice." 
 
 " Not killed ? " asked the pilgrim in a scarce au- 
 dible voice. 
 
 " I am no ghost," replied the castellan, somewhat 
 morosely ; and then, after an earnest look from the 
 priest, he continued, more humbly : " I recovered 
 slowly and in solitude, with the help of remedies 
 which were easily found by me, a shepherd, in our 
 productive valleys. When I came back into the 
 world, no man knew me, with my scarred face, and 
 my now bald head. I heard a report going through 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 361 
 
 the country, that on account of this deed of his, Sir 
 Weigand the Slender had been rejected by his fair 
 betrothed Verena, and how he had pined away, and 
 she had wished to retire into a convent, but her 
 father had persuaded her to marry the great knight 
 Biorn. Then there came a fearful thirst for ven- 
 geance into my heart, and I disowned my name, and 
 my kindred, and my home, and entered the service 
 of the mighty Biorn, as a strange wild man, in order 
 that Weigand the Slender should always remain a 
 murderer, and that I might feed on his anguish. So 
 have I fed upon it for all these long years ; I have 
 fed frightfully upon his self-imposed banishment, 
 upon his cheerless return home, upon his madness. 
 But to-day " — and hot tears gushed from his eyes 
 — " but to-day God has broken the hardness of my 
 heart; and, dear Sir Weigand, look upon yourself 
 no more as a murderer, and say that you will forgive 
 me, and pray for him who has done you so fearful an 
 injury, and" — 
 
 Sobs choked his words. He fell at the feet of the 
 pilgrim, who with tears of joy pressed him to hia 
 heart, in token of forgiveness. 
 
^*iB 
 
 Hi 
 
 s 
 
 ST^M. 
 
 f\y-^^^^ 
 
 ^^^ 
 
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 Sw 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 The joy of this hour passed from its first over- 
 powering brightness to the calm, thoughtful aspect 
 of daily life ; and Weigand, now restored to health, 
 laid aside the mantle with dead men's bones, saying : 
 " I had chosen for my penance to carry these fearful 
 remains about with me, with the thought that some 
 of them might have belonged to him whom I have 
 murdered. Therefore I sought for them round 
 about, in the deep beds of the mountain-torrents, and 
 in the high nests of the eagles and vultures. And 
 while I was searching, I sometimes — could it have 
 been only an illusion ? — seemed to meet a being 
 who was very like myself, but far, far more powerful, 
 and yet still paler and more haggard." 
 
 An imploring look from Sintram stopped the 
 flow of his words. With a gentle smile, Weigand 
 bowed towards him, and said : " You know now all 
 the deep, unutterably deep, sorrow which preyed 
 upon me. My fear of you, and my yearning love 
 for you, are no longer an enigma to your kind heart. 
 For, dear youth, though you may be like your fear- 
 ful father, you have also the kind, gentle heart of 
 your mother; and its reflection brightens your pallid. 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 863 
 
 Btern features, like the glow of a morning sky, which 
 lights up ice-covered mountains and snowy valleys 
 with the soft radiance of joy. But, alas ! how long 
 you have lived alone amidst your fellow-creatures ! 
 And how long since you have seen your mother, my 
 dearly loved Sintram ! " 
 
 " I feel, too, as though a spring were gushing up 
 in the barren wilderness," replied the youth ; " and I 
 should perchance be altogether restored, could I but 
 keep you long with me, and weep with you, dear 
 lord. But I have that within me which says that 
 you will very soon be taken from me." 
 
 " I believe, indeed," said the pilgrim, " that my 
 late song was very nearly my last, and that it con- 
 tained a prediction full soon to be accomplished in 
 me. But, as the soul of man is always like the 
 thirsty ground, the more blessings God has bestowed 
 on us, the more earnestly do we look out for new 
 ones ; so would 1 crave for one more before, as I 
 hope, my blessed end. Yet, indeed, it cannot be 
 granted me," added he, with a faltering voice ; " for 
 I feel myself too utterly unworthy of so high a gift." 
 
 " But it will be granted ! " said the chaplain, joy- 
 fully. " ' He that humbleth himself shall be exalted ; * 
 and I fear not to take one purified from murder to 
 receive a farewell from the holy and forgiving coun- 
 tenance of Verena." 
 
 The pilgrim stretched both his hands up towards 
 heaven, and, an unspoken thanksgiving poured from 
 his beaming eyes, and brightened the smile that 
 played on his lips. 
 
364 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 Sintram looked sorrowfully on the ground, ana 
 sighed gently to himself: "Alas! who would dare 
 accompany ? " 
 
 " My poor, good Sintram," said the chaplain, in 
 a tone of the softest kindness, " I understand thee 
 well ; but the time is not yet come. The powers of 
 evil will again raise up their wrathful heads within 
 thee, and Verena must check both her own and thy 
 longing desires, until all is pure in thy spirit as in 
 hers. Comfort thyself with the thought that God 
 looks mercifully upon thee, and that the joy so ear- 
 nestly sought for will come — if not here, most as- 
 suredly beyond the grave." 
 
 But the pilgrim, as though awaking out of a 
 trance, rose mightily from his seat, and said : " Do 
 you please to come forth with me, reverend chap- 
 lain ? Before the sun appears in the heavens, we 
 could reach the convent gates, and I should not be 
 far from heaven." 
 
 In vain did the chaplain and Rolf remind him of 
 his weakness : he smiled, and said there could be no 
 words about it ; and he girded himself, and tuned 
 the lute which he had asked leave to take with him. 
 His decided manner overcame all opposition, almost 
 without words ; and the chaplain had already pre- 
 pared himself for the journey, when the pilgrim 
 looked with much emotion at Sintram, who, oppressed 
 with a strange weariness, had sunk, half asleep, on 
 a couch, and said : " Wait a moment. I know that 
 he wants me to give him a soft lullaby." The 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 365 
 
 pleased smile of the youth seemed to say, Yes ; and 
 the pilgrim, touching the strings with a light hand, 
 sang these words : — 
 
 " Sleep peacefully, dear boy : 
 
 Thy mother sends the song 
 That whispers round thy couch, 
 
 To lull thee all night long. 
 In silence and afar 
 
 For thee she ever prays, 
 And longs once more in fondness 
 
 Upon thy face to gaze. 
 
 " And when thy waking cometh. 
 
 Then in thy every deed, 
 In all that may betide thee. 
 
 Unto her words gjye heed. 
 Oh, listen for her voice. 
 
 If it be yea or nay ; 
 And though temptation meet thee. 
 
 Thou shalt not miss the way. 
 
 *' If thou canst listen rightly. 
 
 And nobly onward go, 
 Then pure and gentle breezes. 
 
 Around thy cheeks shall blow. 
 Then on thy peaceful journey 
 
 Her blessing thou shalt feel, 
 And though from thee divided, 
 
 Her presence o'er thee steal. 
 
 ** O safest, sweetest comfort ! 
 
 O blest and living light ! 
 That, strong in Heaven's power, 
 
 All terrors puts to flight ! 
 Rest quietly, sweet child, 
 
 And may the gentle numbers 
 
S66 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 Thy mother sends to thee 
 Waft peace unto thy slumbers." 
 
 iSintram fell into a deep sleep, smiling, and breath- 
 ing softly Rolf and the castellan remained by his 
 bed, whilst the two travellers pursued their way in 
 the quiet starlight. 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 The dawn had almost appeared, when Rolf, who 
 had been asleep, was awakened by low singing ; and 
 as he looked round, he perceived, with surprise, that 
 the sounds came from the lips of the castellan, who 
 said, as if in explanation, " So does Sir Weigand 
 sing at the convent-gates, and they are kindly opened 
 to him." Upon which, old Rolf fell asleep again, 
 uncertain whether what had passed had been a 
 dream or a reality. After a while the bright sun- 
 shine awoke him again ; and when he rose up, he 
 saw the countenance of the castellan wonderfully 
 illuminated by the red morning rays ; and altogether 
 those features, once so fearful, were shining with a 
 soft, nay almost child-like mildness. The mysterious 
 man seemed to be the while listening to the motion- 
 less air, as if he were hearing a most pleasant dis- 
 course or lofty music; and as Rolf was about to 
 speak, he made him a sign of entreaty to remain 
 quiet, and continued in his eager listening attitude. 
 
 At length he sank slowly and contentedly back in 
 his seat, whispering, " God be praised ! She has 
 granted his last prayer ; he will be laid in the burial- 
 ground of the convent, and now he has forgiven me 
 
868 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 in the depths of his heart. I can assure you that he 
 finds a peaceful end." 
 
 Rolf did not dare ask a question, or awake his 
 lord ; he felt as if one already departed had spoken 
 to him. 
 
 The castellan long remained still, always smiling 
 brightly. At last he raised himself a little, again 
 listened, and said, " It is over. The sound of the 
 bells is very sweet. We have overcome. Oh, how 
 soft and easy does the good God make it to us ! " 
 And so it came to pass. He stretched himself back 
 as if weary, and his soul was freed from his care- 
 worn body. 
 
 Rolf now gently awoke his young knight, and 
 pointed to the smiling dead. And Sintram smiled 
 too ; he and his good esquire fell on their knees, and 
 prayed to God for the departed spirit. Then they 
 rose up, and bore the cold body to the vaulted hall, 
 and watched by it with holy candles until the return 
 of the chaplain. That the pilgrim would not come 
 back again, they very well knew. 
 
 Accordingly towards mid-day the chaplain re- 
 turned alone. He could scarcely do more than con- 
 firm what was already known to them. He only 
 added a comforting and hopeful greeting from Sin- 
 tram's mother to her son, and told that the blissful 
 Weigand had fallen asleep like a tired child, whilst 
 Verena, with calm tenderness, held a crucifix before 
 him. 
 
 " And in eternal peace our penance end ! " 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 369 
 
 sang Sin tram, gently to himself; and they prepared 
 a last resting-place for the now so peaceful castellan, 
 and laid him therein with all the due solemn rites. 
 
 The chaplain was obliged soon afterwards to de- 
 part ; but bidding Sintram farewell, he again said 
 kindly to him, " Thy dear mother assuredly knows 
 how gentle and calm and good thou art now 1 " 
 
 24 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 In the castle of Sir Biorn of the Fiery Eyes, 
 Christmas Eve had not passed so brightly and hap- 
 pily ; but yet, there too all had gone visibly accord- 
 ing to God's will. 
 
 Folko, at the entreaty of the lord of the castle, 
 had allowed Gabrielle to support him into the hall ; 
 and the three now sat at the round stone table, 
 whereon a sumptuous meal was laid. On either 
 side there were long tables, at which sat the retain- 
 ers of both knights in full armor, according to the 
 custom of the north. Torches and lamps lighted 
 the lofty hall with an almost dazzling brightness. 
 
 Midnight had now begun its solemn reign, and 
 Gabrielle softly reminded her wounded knight to 
 withdraw. Biorn heard her, and said : " You are 
 right, fair lady ; our knight needs rest. Only let us 
 first keep up one more old honorable custom." 
 
 And at his sig^n four attendants brouorht in with 
 pomp a great boar's head, which looked as if cut out 
 of solid gold, and placed it in the middle of the 
 stone table. Biorn's retainers rose with reverence, 
 and took off their helmets ; Biorn himself did the 
 same. 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 871 
 
 " What means this ? " asked Folko very gravely. 
 
 " What thy forefathers and mine have done on 
 every Yule feast," answered Biorn. " We are going 
 to make vows on the boar's head, and then pass the 
 goblet round to their fulfillment." 
 
 " We no longer keep what our ancestors called 
 the Yule feast," said Folko ; " we are good Chris- 
 tians, and we keep holy Christmas-tide." 
 
 " To do the one, and not to leave the other un- 
 done," answered Biorn. " I hold my ancestors too 
 dear to forget their knightly customs. Those who 
 think otherwise may act according to their wisdom, 
 but that shall not hinder me. I swear by the golden 
 boar's head " — And he stretched out his hand to 
 lay it solemnly upon it. 
 
 But Folko called out, " In the name of our holy 
 Saviour, forbear. Where I am, and still have breath 
 and will, none shall celebrate undisturbed the rites 
 of the wild heathens." 
 
 Biorn of the Fiery Eyes glared angrily at him. 
 The men of the two barons separated from each 
 other, with a hollow sound of rattling armor, and 
 ranged themselves in two bodies on either side of 
 the hall, each behind its leader. Already here and 
 there helmets were fastened and visors closed. 
 
 " Bethink thee yet what thou art doing," said 
 Biorn. " I was about to vow an eternal union with 
 the house of Montfaucon, nay, even to bind myself 
 to do it grateful homage ; but if thou disturb me in 
 the customs which have come to me from my fore* 
 
B72 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 fathers, look to thy safety and the safety of all that 
 is dear to thee. My wrath no longer knows any 
 bounds." 
 
 Folko made a sign to the pale Gabrielle to retire 
 behind his followers, saying to her, " Be of good 
 cheer, my noble wife ; weaker Christians have 
 braved for the sake of God and of His holy Church, 
 greater dangers than now seem to threaten us. Be- 
 lieve me the Lord of Montfaucon is not so easily 
 ensnared. 
 
 Gabrielle obeyed, something comforted by Folko's 
 fearless smile, but this smile inflamed yet more the 
 fury of Biorn. He again stretched out his hand 
 towards the boar's head, as if about to make some 
 dreadful vow, when Folko snatched a gauntlet of 
 Biorn's off the table, with which he, with his un- 
 wounded left arm, struck so powerful a blow on the 
 gilt idol, that it fell crashing to the ground, shivered 
 to pieces. Biorn and his followers stood as if turned 
 to stone. But soon swords were grasped by armed 
 hands, shields were taken down from the walls, and 
 an angry, threatening murmur sounded through the 
 hall. 
 
 At a sign from Folko, a battle-axe was brought 
 him by one of his faithful retainers ; he swung it 
 high in air with his powerful left hand, and stood 
 looking like an avenging angel as he spoke these 
 words through the tumult with awful calmness: 
 "What seek ye, O deluded Northmen? What 
 wouldst thou, sinful lord ? Ye are indeed become 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 373 
 
 heathens ; and I hope to show you, by my readiness 
 for battle, that it is not in my right arm alone that 
 God has put strength for victory. But if ye can 
 yet hear, listen to my words. Biorn, on this same 
 accursed, and now, by God's help, shivered boar's 
 head, thou didst lay thy hand when thou didst swear 
 to sacrifice any inhabitants of the German towns 
 that should fall into thy power. And Gotthard 
 Lentz came, and Rudlieb came, driven on these 
 shores by the storm. What didst thou then do, O 
 savage Biorn ? What did ye do at his bidding, ye 
 who were keeping the Yule feast with him ? Try 
 your fortune on me. The Lord will be with me, as 
 He was with those holy men. To arms, and " — 
 he turned to his warriors — " let our battle-cry be 
 Gotthard and Eudlieb ! " 
 
 Then Biorn let drop his drawn sword, then his 
 followers paused, and none among the Norwegians 
 dared lift his eyes from the ground. By degrees, 
 they one by one began to disappear from the hall ; 
 and at last Biorn stood quite alone opposite to the 
 baron and his followers. He seemed hardly aware 
 that he had been deserted, but he fell on his knees, 
 stretched out his shining sword, pointed to the 
 broken boar's head, and said, " Do with me as you 
 have done with that; I deserve no better I ask 
 but one favor, only one ; do not disgrace me, noble 
 baron, by seeking shelter in another castle of Nor- 
 wray." 
 
 "I fear you not," answered Folko, after some 
 
874 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 thought ; " and, as far. as may be, I freely forgive 
 you." Then he drew the sign of the cross over the 
 wild form of Biorn, and left the hall with Gabrielle. 
 The retainers of the house of Montfaucon followed 
 him proudly and silently. 
 
 The hard spirit of the fierce lord of the castle was 
 now quite broken, and he watched with increased 
 humility every look of Folko and Gabrielle. But 
 they withdrew more and more into the happy soli- 
 tude of their own apartments, where they enjoyed, 
 in the midst of the sharp winter, a bright spring- tide 
 of happiness. The wounded condition of Folko did 
 not hinder the evening delights of songs and music 
 and poetry, but rather a new charm was added to 
 them when the tall, handsome knight leant on the 
 arm of his delicate lady, and they thus, changing as 
 it were their deportment and duties, walked slowly 
 through the torch-lit halls, scattering their kindly 
 greetings like flowers among the crowds of men and 
 women. 
 
 All this time little or nothing was heard of poor 
 Sintram. The last wild outbreak of his father had 
 increased the terror with which Gabrielle remem- 
 bered the self-accusations of the youth; and the 
 more resolutely Folko kept silence, the more did she 
 bode some dreadful mystery. Indeed, a secret shud- 
 der came over the knight when he thought on the 
 oale, dark-haired youth. Sintram's repentance had 
 bordered on settled despair ; no one knew even what 
 Ue was doing in the fortress of evil-report on the 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 375 
 
 Rocks of the Moon. Strange rumors were brought 
 by the retainers who had flecl from it, that the evil 
 spirit had obtained complete power over Sintram, 
 that no man could stay with him, and that the fidel- 
 ity of the dark mysterious castellan had cost him 
 his life. 
 
 Folko could hardly drive away the fearful suspi- 
 cion that the lonely young knight was become a 
 wicked magician. 
 
 And perhaps, indeed, evil spirits did flit about the 
 banished Sintram, but it was without his calling 
 them up. In his dreams he often saw the wicked 
 enchantress Venus, in her golden chariot drawn by 
 winged cats, pass over the battlements of the stone 
 fortress, and heard her say, mocking him, " Foolish 
 Sintram ! hadst thou but obeyed the little Master, 
 thou wouldst now be in Helen's arms, and the Rocks 
 of the Moon would be called the Rocks of Love, 
 and the stone fortress would be the garden of roses. 
 Thou wouldst have lost thy pale face and dark hair, 
 — for thou art only enchanted, dear youth, — and 
 thine eyes would have beamed more softly, and thy 
 cheeks bloomed more freshly, and thy hair would 
 have been more golden than was that of Prince Paris 
 when men wondered at his beauty. Oh, how Helen 
 would have loved thee 1 " Then she showed him in a 
 mirror, how, as a marvelously beautiful knight, he 
 knelt before Gabrielle, who sank into his arms blush 
 ing as the morning. When he awoke from such 
 dreams, he would seize eagerly the sword and scarf 
 
376 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 given him by his lady — as a shipwrecked man seizes 
 the plank which is to save him ; and while the hot 
 tears fell on them, he would murmur to himself, 
 " There was, indeed, one hour in my sad life when I 
 was worthy and happy." 
 
 Once he sprang up at midnight after one of these 
 dreams, but this time with more thrilling horror ; for 
 it had seemed to him that the features of the en- 
 chantress Venus had changed towards the end of her 
 speech, as she looked down upon him with marvel- 
 ous scorn, and she appeared to him as the hideous 
 little Master. The youth had no better means of 
 calming his distracted mind than to throw the sword 
 and scarf of Gabrielle over his shoulders, and to 
 hasten forth under the solemn starry canopy of 
 the wintry sky. He walked in deep thought back- 
 wards and forwards under the leafless oaks and 
 the snow laden firs which grew on the high ram- 
 parts. 
 
 Then he heard a sorrowful cry of distress sound 
 from the moat ; it was as if some one were attempt- 
 ing to sing, but was stopped by inward grief. Sin- 
 tram exclaimed, '" Who's there ? " and all was still. 
 When he was silent, and again began his walk, the 
 frightful groanings and meanings were heard afresh, 
 as if they came from a dying person. Sintram over- 
 came the horror which seemed to hold him back, 
 and began in silence to climb down into the deep 
 dry moat which was cut in the rock. He was soon 
 so low down that he could no longer see the stars 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 377 
 
 shining; beneath him moved a shrouded form: 
 and sliding with involuntary haste down the steep 
 descent, he stood near the groaning figure ; it ceased 
 its lamentations, and began to laugh like a maniac 
 from beneath its long, folded, female garments. 
 
 " Oh, ho, my comrade ! oh, ho, my comrade ! wert 
 thou going a little too fast ? Well, well, it is all 
 right ; and see now, thou standest no higher than I» 
 u\y pious, valiant youth ! Take it patiently, — take 
 it patiently ! " 
 
 " What dost thou want with me ? Why dost thou 
 laugh ? Why dost thou weep ? " asked Sintram im- 
 patiently. 
 
 " I might ask thee the same questions," answered 
 the dark figure, " and thou wouldst be less able to 
 answer me than I to answer thee. Why dost thou 
 laugh ? Why dost thou weep ? Poor creature ! But 
 I will show thee a remarkable thing in thy fortress, 
 of which thou knowest nothing. Give heed ! " 
 
 And the shrouded figure began to scratch and 
 scrape at the stones till a little iron door opened, and 
 showed a long passage which led into the deep dark- 
 ness. 
 
 " Wilt thou come with me ? " whispered the 
 strange being : " it is the shortest way to thy father's 
 castle. In half an hour we shall come out of this 
 passage, and we shall be in thy beauteous lady's 
 apartment. Duke Menelaus shall lie in a magic 
 sleep, — leave that to me, — and then thou wilt take 
 the slight, delicate form in thine arms, and bring hei 
 
378 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 to the Rocks of the Moon ; so thou wilt win back al, 
 that seemed lost by thy former wavering." 
 
 Sintram trembled visibly, fearfully shaken to and 
 fro by the fever of passion and the stings of con- 
 science. But at last, pressing the sword and scarf 
 to his heart, he cried out, " Oh, that fairest, most 
 glorious hour of my life ! If T lose all other joys, I 
 will hold fast that brightest ho.ir ! " 
 
 " A bright, glorious hour ! '' said the figure from 
 under its veil, like an evil echo. " Dost thou know 
 whom thou then conqueredst ? A good old friend, 
 who only showed himself so sturdy to give thee the 
 glory of overcoming him. Wilt thou look ? " 
 
 The dark garments of the little figure flew open, 
 and the dwarf warrior in strange armor, the gold 
 horns on his helmet, and the curved spear in his 
 hand, the very same whom Sintram thought he had 
 slain on Mflung's Heath, now stood before him and 
 laughed : " Thou seest, my youth, everything in the 
 wide world is but dreams and froth ; wherefore hold 
 fast the dream which delights thee, and sip up the 
 froth which refreshes thee ! Hasten to that under- 
 ground passage, it leads up to thy angel Helen. Or 
 wouldst thou first know thy friend yet better ? " 
 
 His visor opened, and the hateful face of the little 
 Master glared upon the knight. Sintram asked, as 
 if in a dream, " Art thou also that wicked enchan- 
 tress Venus ? " 
 
 " Something like her," answered the little Master, 
 laughing, " or rather she is something like me. And 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 379 
 
 if thou wilt only get disenchanted, and recover the 
 beauty of Prince Paris, — then, O Prince Paris," 
 and his voice changed to an alluring song, " then, 
 O Prince Paris, I shall be fair like thee ! " 
 
 At this moment the good Rolf appeared above on 
 the rampart ; a consecrated taper in his lantern 
 shone down into the moat, as he sought for the miss- 
 ing young knight. "In God's name, Sir Sintram," 
 he called out, " what has the spectre of him whom 
 you slew on Niflung's Heath, and whom I never 
 could bury, to do with you ? " 
 
 " Seest thou well ? hearest thou well ? " whispered 
 the little Master, and drew back into the darkness 
 of the underground passage. " The wise man up 
 there knows me well. There was nothing in thy 
 heroic feat. Come, take the joys of life while thou 
 mayst." 
 
 But Sintram sprang back, with strong effort, into 
 the circle of light made by the shining of the taper 
 from above, and cried out, " Depart from me, un- 
 quiet spirit ! I know well that I bear a name on me 
 in which thou canst have no part." 
 
 Little Master rushed in fear and rage into the 
 passage, and yelling, shut the iron door behind him. 
 It seemed as if he could still be heard groaning and 
 roaring. 
 
 Sintram climbed up the wall of the moat, and 
 made a sign to his foster-father not to speak to him : 
 he only said, " One of my best joys, yes, the very 
 
380 
 
 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 best, has been taken from me, but, by God's help, 
 I am not yet lost." 
 
 In the earliest light of the following morning, he 
 and Rolf stopped up the entrance to the perilous 
 passage with huge blocks of stone. 
 
CHAPTER XKIY. 
 
 The long northern winter was at last ended, the 
 fresh green leaves rustled merrily in the woods, 
 patches of soft moss twinkled amongst the rocks, 
 the valleys grew green, the brooks sparkled, the 
 snow melted from all but the highest mountain-tops, 
 and the bark which was ready to carry away Folko 
 and Gabrielle, danced on the sunny waves of the sea. 
 The baron, now quite recovered, and strong and 
 fresh as though his health had sustained no injury, 
 stood one morning on the shore with his fair lady ; 
 and, full of glee at the prospect of returning to their 
 home, the noble pair looked on well pleased at their 
 attendants who were busied in lading the ship. 
 
 Then said one of them, in the midst of a confused 
 sound of talking : " But what has appeared to me 
 the most fearful and the most strange thing in this 
 northern land is the stone fortress on the Rocks of 
 the Moon. I have never, indeed, been inside it, but 
 when I used to see it in our huntings, towering above 
 the tall fir-trees, there came a tightness over my 
 breast, as if something unearthly were dwelling in 
 it. And a few weeks ago, when the snow was yet 
 lying hard in the valleys, I came unawares quite 
 
382 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 close upon the strange building. The young knight 
 Sintram was walking alone on the ramparts as twi- 
 light came on, like the spirit of a departed knight, 
 and he drew from the lute which he carried such 
 soft, melancholy tones, and he sighed so deeply and 
 sorrowfully " . . . . 
 
 The voice of the speaker was drowned in the 
 noise of the crowd, and as he also just then reached 
 the ship with his package hastily fastened up, Folko 
 and Gabrielle could not hear the rest of his speech. 
 But the fkir lady looked on her knight with eyes dim 
 with tears, and sighed: "Is it not behind those 
 mountains that the Rocks of the Moon lie ? The 
 unhappy Sintram makes me sad at heart." 
 
 " I understand thee, sweet, gracious lady, and the 
 pure compassion of thy heart," replied Folko, in- 
 stantly ordering his swift-footed steed to be brought. 
 He placed his noble lady under the charge of his 
 retainers, and leaping into the saddle, he hastened, 
 followed by the grateful smiles of Gabrielle, along 
 the valley towards the stone fortress. 
 
 Sintram was seafted near the draw-bridge, touching 
 the strings of the lute, and shedding some tears on 
 the golden chords, almost as Montfaucon's esquire 
 had described him. Suddenly a cloudy shadow 
 passed over him, and he looked up, expecting to see 
 a flight of cranes in the air ; but the sky was clear 
 and blue. While the young knight was still won- 
 dering, a long, bright spear fell at his feet from a 
 battlement of the armory-turret. 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 383 
 
 <' Take it up, — make good use of it ! thy foe is 
 near at hand ! Near also is the downfall of thy dear- 
 est happiness." Thus he heard it distinctly whis- 
 pered in his ear ; and it seemed to him that he saw 
 the shadow of the little Master glide close by him to a 
 neighborino- cleft in the rock But at the same time 
 also, a tall, gigantic, haggard figure passed along the 
 valley, in some measure like the departed pilgrim, 
 only much, very much larger, and he raised his long, 
 bony arm, fearfully threatening, then disappeared in 
 an ancient tomb. 
 
 At the very same instant Sir Folko of Montfau- 
 con came swiftly as the wind up the Rocks of the 
 Moon, and he must have seen something of those 
 strange apparitions, for, as he stopped close behind 
 Sintram, he looked rather pale, and asked low and 
 earnestly : " Sir Knight, who are those two with 
 whom you were just now holding converse here?" 
 
 " The good God knows," answered Sintram ; 
 " I know them not." — " If the good God does but 
 know ! " cried Montfaucon : " but I fear me that He 
 knows very little more of you or your deeds." 
 
 " You speak strangely harsh words," said Sintram. 
 " Yet ever since that evening of misery, — alas ! and 
 even long before, — I must bear with all that comes 
 from you. Dear sir, you may believe me, I know 
 not those fearful companions ; I call them not, and 
 I know not what terrible curse binds them to my 
 footsteps. The merciful God, as I would hope, is 
 mindful of me the while, — as a faithful shepherd 
 
384 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 does not forget even the worst and most widely- 
 straying of his flock, but calls after it with an 
 anxious voice in the gloomy wilderness." 
 
 Then the anger of the baron was quite melted. 
 Two bright tears stood in his eyes, and he said : 
 " No, assuredly God has not forgotten thee ; only do 
 thou not forget thy gracious God. I did not come 
 to rebuke thee ; I came to bless thee in Gabrielle's 
 name and in my own. The Lord preserve thee, the 
 Lord guide thee, the Lord lift thee up ! And, Sin- 
 tram, on the far ofF-shores of Normandy I shall beat 
 thee in mind, and I shall hear how thou strugglest 
 against the curse which weighs down thy unhappy 
 life ; and if thou ever shake it off, and stand as a 
 noble conqueror over Sin and Death, then thou shalt 
 receive from me a token of love and reward, more 
 precious than either thou or I can understand at this 
 moment." 
 
 The words flowed prophetically from the baron's 
 lips ; he himself was only half-conscious of what he 
 said. With a kind salutation he turned his noble 
 steed, and again flew down the valley towards the 
 sea- shore. 
 
 " Fool, fool ! thrice a fool ! " whispered the angry 
 voice of the little Master in Sintram's ear. But old 
 Rolf was singing his morning hymn in clear tones 
 within the castle, and the last lines were these : — 
 
 '' Whom worldlings scorn, 
 Who lives forlorn, 
 
 On God's own word doth rest; 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 385 
 
 With heavenly light 
 His path is bright : 
 
 His lot among the blest." 
 
 Then a holy joy took possession of Sintram's 
 heart, and he looked around him yet more gladly 
 than in the hour when Gabrielle gave him the scarf 
 and sword and Folko dubbed him knight. 
 
CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 The baron and his lovely lady were sailing across 
 the broad sea with favoring gales of spring, nay, the 
 coast of Normandy had already appeared above the 
 waves ; but still was Biorn of the Fiery Eyes sitting 
 gloomy and speechless in his castle. He had taken 
 no leave of his guests. There was more of proud 
 fear of Montfaucon than of reverential love for him 
 in his soul, especially since the adventure with the 
 boar's head; and the thought was bitter to his 
 haughty spirit that the great baron, the flower and 
 glory of their whole race should have come in peace 
 to visit him, and should now be departing in dis' 
 pleasure, — in stern, reproachful displeasure. He 
 had constantly before his mind, and it never failed to 
 bring fresh pangs, the remembrance of how all had 
 come to pass, and how all might have gone other- 
 wise ; and he was always fancying he could hear the 
 songs in which after generations would recount this 
 voyage of the great Folko, and the worthlessness ot 
 the savage Biorn. At length, full of fierce anger, 
 lie cast away the fetters of his troubled spirit, he 
 burst out of the castle with all his horsemen, and 
 began to carry on a warfare more fearful and more 
 lawless than any in which he had yet been engaged. 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 387 
 
 Sintram heard the sound of his father's war-horn $ 
 and, committing the stone fortress to old Rolf, he 
 sprang forth, ready armed for the combat. But the 
 flames of the cottages and farms on the mountains 
 rose up before him, and showed him, written as if 
 in characters of fire, what kind of war his father was 
 waging. Yet he went on towards the spot where 
 the army was mustered, but only to offer his media- 
 tion, affirming that he would not lay his hand on his 
 good sword in so abhorred a service, even though 
 the stone fortress, and his father's castle besides, 
 should fall before the vengeance of their enemies. 
 Biorn hurled the spear which he held in his hand 
 against his son with mad fury. The deadly weapon 
 whizzed past him : Sintram remained standing with 
 his visor raised ; he did not move one limb in his 
 defense, when he said : " Father, do what you will ; 
 but I join not in your godless warfare." 
 
 Biorn of the Fiery Eyes laughed scornfully : *' It 
 seems I am always to have a spy over me here ; my 
 son succeeds to the dainty French knight ! " But 
 nevertheless he came to himself, accepted Sintram's 
 mediation, made amends for the injuries he had 
 done, and returned gloomily to his castle. Sintram 
 went back to the Rocks of the Moon. 
 
 Such occurrences were frequent after that time, 
 rt went so far that Sintram came to be looked upon 
 as the protector of all those whom his father pursued 
 with relentless fury ; but nevertheless, sometimes his 
 own wildness would carry the young knight away to 
 
388 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 accompany his fierce father in his fearful deeds. 
 Then Biorn used to laugh with horrible pleasure, 
 and to say : " See there, my son, how the flames we 
 have lighted blaze up from the villages, as the blood 
 spouts up from the wounds our swords have made ! 
 It is plain to me, however much thou mayest pre- 
 tend to the contrary, that thou art, and wilt ever re- 
 main, my true and beloved heir ! " 
 
 After thus fearfully erring, Sintram could find no 
 comfort but in hastening to the chaplain of Dron- 
 theim, and confessing to him his misery and his sins. 
 The chaplain would freely absolve him, after due 
 penance and repentance, and again raise up the 
 broken-hearted youth ; but would often say : " Oh 
 how nearly hadst thou reached thy last trial, and 
 gained the victory, and looked on Yerena's coun- 
 tenance, and atoned for all ! Now thou hast thrown 
 thyself back for years. Think, my son, on the short- 
 ness of man's life ; if thou art always falling back 
 anew, how wilt thou ever gain the summit on this 
 side the grave ? " 
 
 Years came and went, and Biorn's hair was white 
 as snow, and the youth Sintram had reached the 
 middle age. Old Rolf was now scarcely able to 
 leave the stone fortress ; and sometimes he said : " I 
 feel it a burden that my life should yet be prolonged ; 
 but also there is much comfort in it, for I still think 
 the good God has in store for me here below some 
 great happiness ; and it must be something in which 
 you are concerned, my beloved Sir Sintram, for what 
 else in the whole world could rejoice me ? " 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 389 
 
 But all remained as it was, and Sintram's fearful 
 dreams at Christmas-time, each year rather increased 
 than diminished in horror. Again the holy season 
 was drawing near, and the mind of the sorely af- 
 flicted knight was more troubled than ever before. 
 Sometimes, if he had been reckoning up the nights 
 till it should come, a cold sweat would stand on his 
 forehead, while he said, " Mark my words, dear old 
 foster-father, this time something most awfully de- 
 cisive lies before me." 
 
 One evening he felt an overwhelming anxiety 
 about his father. It seemed to him that the Prince 
 of Darkness was going up to Biorn's castle ; and in 
 vain did Rolf remind him that the snow was lying 
 deep in the valleys, in vain did he suggest that the 
 knight might be overtaken by his frightful dreams in 
 the lonely moimtains during the night-time. " Noth- 
 ing can be worse to me than remaining here would 
 be," replied Sintram. 
 
 He took his horse from the stable and rode forth 
 in the gathering darkness. The noble steed slipped 
 and stumbled and fell in the trackless ways, but his 
 rider always raised him up, and urged him only 
 more swiftly and eagerly towards the object which 
 he longed and yet dreaded to reach. Nevertheless, 
 he might never have arrived at it, had not his faith- 
 ful hound Skovmark kept with him. The dog 
 sought out the lost track for his beloved master, and 
 'tuvited him into it with joyous barkings, and warned 
 him by his howls against precipices and treacherous 
 
890 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 ice under the snow. Thus they arrived about mid- 
 night at Biorn's castle. The windows of the hall 
 shone opposite to them with a brilliant light, as 
 though some great feast were kept there, and con- 
 fused sounds, as of singing, met their ears. Sintram 
 gave his horse hastily to some retainers in the court- 
 yard, and ran up the steps, whilst Skovmark stayed 
 by the well-known horse. 
 
 A good esquire came towards Sintram within the 
 castle, and said, " God be praised, my dear master, 
 that you are come ; for surely nothing good is going 
 on above. But take heed to yourself also, and be 
 not deluded. Your father has a guest with him, — 
 and, as I think, a hateful one." 
 
 Sintram shuddered as he threw open the doors. 
 A little man in the dress of a miner was sitting with 
 his back towards him. The armor had been, for 
 some time past, again ranged round the stone table, 
 so that only two places were left empty. The seat 
 opposite the door had been taken by Biorn of the 
 Fiery Eyes ; and the dazzling light of the torches 
 fell upon his features with so red a flare, that he 
 perfectly enacted that fearful surname. 
 
 " Father, whom have you here with you ? " cried 
 Sintram ; and his suspicions rose to certainty as the 
 miner turned round, and the detestable face of the 
 little Master grinned from under his dark hood. 
 
 " Yes, just see, my fair son," said the wild Biorn ; 
 " thou hast not been here for a long while, and so 
 to-night this jolly comrade has paid me a visit, and 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 391 
 
 thy place has been taken. But throw one of the 
 suits of armor out of the way, and put a seat for 
 thyself instead of it, and come and drink with us, 
 and be merry." 
 
 " Yes, do so, Sir Sintram," said the little Master, 
 with a laugh. " Nothing worse could come of it 
 than that the broken pieces of armor might clatter 
 somewhat strangely together, or at most that the 
 disturbed spirit of him to whom the suit belonged 
 might look over your shoulder ; but he would not 
 drink up any of our wine — ghosts have nothing to 
 do with that. So now fall to ! " 
 
 Biom joined in the laughter of the hideous 
 stranger with wild mirth; and while Sintram was 
 mustering up his whole strength not to lose his 
 senses at so terrible words, and was fixing a calm, 
 steady look on the little Master's face, the old man 
 cried out, " Why dost thou look at him so ? Does it 
 seem to thee as though thou sawest thyself in a mir- 
 ror ? Now that you are together, I do not see it so 
 much ; but a while ago I thought that you were like 
 enough to each other to be mistaken." 
 
 " God forbid ! " said Sintram, walking up close to 
 the fearful apparition : " I command thee, detestable 
 stranger, to depart from this castle, in right of my 
 authority as my father's heir, as a consecrated knight 
 and as a spirit ! " 
 
 Biorn seemed as if he wished to oppose himself 
 CO this command with all his savage might. The 
 little Master muttered to himself, " Thou art not, by 
 
392 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 any means, the master in this house, pious knight ; 
 thou hast never lighted a fire on this hearth." Then 
 Sintram drew the sword which Gabrielle had given 
 him, held the cross of the hilt before the eyes of his 
 evil guest, and said calmly, but with a powerful 
 voice, " Worship, or fly ! " And he fled, the frightful 
 stranger, — he fled with such lightning speed, that it 
 could scarcely be seen whether he had sprung 
 through the window or the door. But in going he 
 overthrew some of the armor, the tapers went out, 
 and it seemed that the pale blue flame which lighted 
 up the hall in a marvelous manner gave a fulfillment 
 to the little Master's former words : and that the 
 spirits of those to whom the armor had belonged 
 were leaning over the table, grinning fearfully. 
 
 Both the father and the son were filled with hor^ 
 ror, but each chose an opposite way to save himself. 
 Biorn wished to have his hateful guest back again ; 
 and the power of his will was seen when the little 
 Master's step resounded anew on the stairs, and his 
 brown, shriveled hand shook the lock of the door. 
 On the other hand, Sintram ceased not to say within 
 himself, " "We are lost, if he come back ! We are 
 lost to all eternity, if he come back ! " And he fell 
 on his knees, and prayed fervently from his troubled 
 heart to Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Then the 
 little Master left the door, and again Biorn willed 
 him to return, and again Sintram's prayers drove 
 him away. So went on this strife of wills through- 
 out the long night ; and howling whirlwinds raged 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 393 
 
 the while around the castle, till all the household 
 thought the end of the world was come. At length 
 the dawn of morning appeared through the windows 
 of the hall, — the fury of the storm was lulled, — 
 Biorn sank back powerless in slumber on his seat, — 
 peace and hope came to the inmates of the castle, — 
 and Sintram, pale and exhausted, went out to breathe 
 the dewy air of the mild winter's morning before the 
 castle-gates. 
 
CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 The faithful Skovmark followed his master 
 caressing him ; and when Sintrara fell asleep on a 
 stone seat in the wall, he lay at his feet, keeping 
 watchful guard. Suddenly he pricked up his ears, 
 looked round with delight, and bounded joyfully 
 down the mountain. Just afterwards the chaplain 
 of Drontheim appeared amongst the rocks, and the 
 good beast went up to him, as if to greet him, and 
 then again ran back to the knight to announce the 
 welcome visitor. 
 
 Sintram opened his eyes, as a child whose Christ- 
 mas-gifts have been placed at his bedside. For the 
 chaplain smiled at him as he had never yet seen him 
 smile. There was in it a token of victory and bless- 
 ing, or at least of the near approach of both. " Thou 
 hast done much yesterday, very much," said the holy 
 priest ; and his hands were joined, and his eyes full 
 of bright tears. " I praise God for thee, my noble 
 knight. Verena knows all, and she too praises God 
 for thee. I do indeed now dare hope that the time 
 will soon come when thou mayst appear before her 
 But Sintram, Sir Sintram, there is need of haste ; 
 for the old man above requires speedy aid, and thou 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 396 
 
 hast still a heavy — as I hope, the last — yet a most 
 heavy trial to undergo for his sake. Arm thyself, 
 my knight, arm thyself even with bodily weapons. 
 In truth, this time only spiritual armor is needed, 
 but it always befits a knight, as well as a monk, to 
 wear in decisive moments the entire solemn garb of 
 his station. If it so please thee, we will go directly 
 to Drontheim together. Thou must return thence 
 to-night. Such is a part of the hidden decree, which 
 has been dimly unfolded to Verena's foresight. Here 
 there is yet much that is wild and distracting, and 
 thou hast great need to-day of calm preparation." 
 
 With humble joy Sintram bowed his assent, and 
 called for his horse and for a suit of armor. " Only," 
 added he, " let not any of that armor be brought 
 which was last night overthrown in the hall ! " 
 
 His orders were quickly obeyed. The arms which 
 were fetched, adorned with fine engraved work, the 
 simple helmet, formed rather like that of an esquire 
 than a knight, the lance of almost gigantic size,- 
 which belonged to the suit — on all these the chap- 
 lain gazed in deep thought and with melancholy 
 emotion. At last, when Sintram, with the help of 
 bis esquires, was well-nigh equipped, the holy priest 
 spoke : — 
 
 " Wonderful providence of God ! See, dear Sin- 
 tram, this armor and this spear were formerly those 
 of Sir Weigand the Slender, and with them he did 
 many mighty deeds. When he was tended by your 
 motlier in the castle, and when even your father still 
 
396 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 showed himself kind towards him, he asked, as a 
 favor, that his armor and his lance should be allowed 
 to hang in Biorn's armory, — Weigand himself, as 
 you well know, intended to build a cloister and to 
 live there as a monk, — and he put his old esquire's 
 helmet with it, instead of another, because he was 
 yet wearing that one when he first saw the fair Ve- 
 rena's angelic face. How wondrously does it now 
 come to pass, that these very arms, which have so 
 long been laid aside, should be brought to you for 
 the decisive hour of your life ! To me, as far as my 
 short-sighted human wisdom can tell, — to me it 
 seems truly a very solenm token, but one full of high 
 and glorious promise.'* 
 
 Sintram* stood now in complete array, composed 
 and stately, and, from his tall, slender figure, might 
 have been taken for a youth, had not the deep lines 
 of care which furrowed his countenance shown him 
 to be advanced in years. 
 
 " Who has placed boughs on the head of my war- 
 horse ? " asked Sin tram of the esquires, with dis- 
 pleasure. " I am not a conqueror, nor a wedding- 
 guest. And besides, there are no boughs now but 
 those red and yellow crackling oak-leaves, dull and 
 dead like the season itself." 
 
 " Sir Knight, I know not myself," answered an es- 
 quire ; " but it seemed to me that it must be so." 
 
 " Let it be," said the chaplain. " I feel that this 
 aiso comes as a token full of meaning from the right 
 source." 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 397 
 
 Then the knight threw himself into his saddle ; 
 the priest went beside him ; and they both rode 
 slowly and silently towards Drontheim. The faith- 
 ful dog followed his master. When the lofty castle 
 of Drontheim appeared in sight, a gentle smile 
 spread itself over Sintram's countenance, like sun- 
 shine over a wintry valley. 
 
 " God has done great things for me," said he. " I 
 once rushed from here, a fearfully wild boy ; I now 
 come back a penitent man. I trust that it will yet 
 go well with my poor troubled life." 
 
 The chaplain assented kindly, and soon afterwards 
 the travellers passed under the echoing vaulted 
 gateway into the castle-yard. At a sign from the 
 priest, the retainers approached with respectful haste, 
 and took charge of the horse ; then he and Sintram 
 went through long winding passages and up many 
 steps to the remote chamber which the chaplain had 
 chosen for himself; far away from the noise of men, 
 dud near to the clouds and the stars. There the 
 two passed a quiet day in devout prayer, and earnest 
 reading of Holy Scripture. 
 
 When the evening began to close in, the chaplain 
 arose and said : " And now, my knight, get ready 
 thy horse, and mount and ride back again to thy 
 father's castle. A toilsome way lies before thee, and 
 I dare not go with you. But I can and will call 
 upon the Lord for you all through the long fearful 
 night. O beloved instrument of the Most High, 
 thou wilt yet not be lost ! " 
 
398 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 Thrilling with strange forebodings, but neverthe- 
 less strong and vigorous in spirit, Sintram did ac- 
 cording to the holy man's desire. The sun set as 
 the knight approached a long valley, strangely shut 
 in by rocks, through which lay the road to his 
 father's castle. 
 
CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 Before entering the rocky pass, the knight, with 
 a prayer and thanksgiving, looked back once more 
 at the castle of Drontheim. There it was, so vast 
 and quiet and peaceful ; the bright windows of the 
 chaplain's high chamber yet lighted up by the last 
 gleam of the sun, which had already disappeared. 
 In front of Sintram was the gloomy valley, as if his 
 grave. Then there came towards him some one rid- 
 ing on a small horse ; and Skovmark, who had gone 
 up to the stranger as if to find out wlio he was, now 
 ran back with his tail between his legs and his ears 
 put back, howling and whining, and crept, terrified, 
 under his master's war-horse. But even the noble 
 steed appeared to have forgotten his once so fearless 
 and warlike ardor. He trembled violently, and when 
 the knight would have turned him towards the stran- 
 ger, he reared and snorted and plunged, and began 
 to throw himself backwards. It was only with dif- 
 ficulty that Sintram's strength and horsemanship got 
 the better of him ; and he was all white with foam 
 when Sintram came up to the unknown traveller. 
 
 " You have cowardly beasts with you," said the lat- 
 ter, in a low, smothered voice. 
 
400 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 Sintram was unable, in the ever-increasing dark- 
 ness, rightly to distinguish what kind of being he 
 saw before him ; only a very pallid face, which at 
 first he had thought was covered with freshly fallen 
 snow, met his eyes from amidst the long, hanging 
 garments. It seemed that the stranger carried a 
 small box wrapped up ; his little horse, as if wearied 
 out, bent his head down towards the ground, where- 
 by a bell, which hung from the wretched torn bridle 
 under his neck, was made to give a strange sound. 
 After a short silence, Sintram replied : " Noble 
 steeds avoid those of a worse race, because they are 
 ashamed of them ;• and the boldest dogs are attacked 
 by a secret terror at sight of forms to which they 
 are not accustomed. I have no cowardly beasts with 
 me." 
 
 " Good, sir knight ; then ride with me through the 
 valley." 
 
 " I am going through the valley, but I want no 
 companions." 
 
 " But perhaps I want one. Do you not see that I 
 am unarmed? And at this season, at this hour, 
 there are frightful, unearthly beasts about." 
 
 Just then, as though to confirm the awful words 
 of the stranger, a thing swung itself down from one 
 of the nearest trees, covered with hoar-frost, — no 
 one could say if it were a snake or a lizard, — it 
 curled and twisted itself, and appeared about to 
 slide down upon the knight or his companion. Sin- 
 tram leveled his spear, and pierced the creature 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 401 
 
 through. But, with the most hideous contortions, 
 It fixed itself firmly on the spear-head ; and in vain 
 did the knight endeavor to rub it off against the 
 rocks or the trees. Then he let his spear rest upon 
 his right shoulder, with the point behind him, so that 
 the horrible beast no longer met his sight ; and he 
 said, with good courage, to the stranger, " It does 
 seem, indeed, that I could help you, and I am not 
 forbidden to have an unknown stranger in my com- 
 pany ; so let us push on bravely into the valley ! " 
 
 " Help ! " so resounded the solemn answer ; " not 
 help. I perhaps may help thee. But God have 
 mercy upon thee if the time should ever come when 
 I could no longer help thee. Then thou wouldst be 
 lost, and I should become very frightful to thee. But 
 we will go through the valley — 1 have thy knightly 
 word for it. Come ! " 
 
 They rode forward ; Sintram's horse still showing 
 signs of fear, the faithful dog still whining ; but both 
 obedient to their master's will. The knight was 
 calm and steadfast. The snow had slipped down from 
 the smooth rocks, and by the light of the rising 
 moon could be seen various strange twisted shapes 
 on their sides, some looking like snakes, and some 
 like human faces ; but they were only formed by the 
 veins in the rock and the half-bare roots of trees, 
 which had planted themselves in that desert place 
 with capricious firmness. High above and at a great 
 distance, the castle of Drontheim, as if to take leave, 
 appeared again through an opening in the rocks. 
 
 26 
 
402 SmTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 The knight then looked keenly at his companion, 
 and he almost felt as if Weigand the Slender were 
 riding beside him. 
 
 " In God's name," cried he, " art thou not the 
 shade of that departed knight who suffered and died 
 for Verena ? " 
 
 " I have not suffered, I have not died ; but ye 
 suffer, and ye die, poor mortals!" murmured the 
 stranger. " I am not Weigand. I am that other, 
 who was so like him, and whom thou hast also met 
 before now in the wood." 
 
 Sintram strove to free himself from the terror 
 which came over him at these words. He looked at 
 his horse ; it appeared to him entirely altered. The 
 dry, many-colored oak-leaves on its head were wav- 
 ing like the flames around a sacrifice, in the uncer- 
 tain moonlight. He looked down again, to see after 
 his faithful Skovmark. Fear had likewise most 
 wondrously changed him. On the ground in the 
 middle of the road were lying dead men's bones, 
 and hideous lizards were crawling about ; and, in 
 defiance of the wintry season, poisonous mushrooms 
 were growing up all around. 
 
 " Can this be still my horse on which I am rid- 
 ing ? " said the knight to himself, in a low voice ; 
 " and can that trembling beast which runs at my 
 side be my dog ? " 
 
 Then some one called after him, in a yelling voice, 
 *' Stop ! stop ! Take me also with you ! " 
 
 Looking round, Sintram perceived a small, fright* 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 403 
 
 fill figure with horns, and a face partly like a wild 
 boar and partly like a bear, walking along on its hind- 
 legs, which were those of a horse ; and in its hand 
 was a strange, hideous weapon, shaped like a hook 
 or a sickle. It was the being who had been wont 
 to trouble him in his dreams ; and, alas ! it was also 
 the wretched little Master himself, who, laughing 
 wildly, stretched out a long claw towards the knight. 
 
 The bewildered Sintram murmured, " I must have 
 fallen asleep ; and now my dreams are coming over 
 me!" 
 
 " Thou art awake," replied the rider of the little 
 horse, " but thou knowest me also in thy dreams. 
 For, behold ! I am Death." And his garments fell 
 from him, and there appeared Smouldering skele- 
 ton, its ghastly head crowned with serpents ; that 
 which he had kept hidden under his mantle was an 
 hour-glass with the sand almost run out. Death 
 held it towards the knight in his fleshless hand. 
 The bell at the neck of the little horse gave forth a 
 solemn sound. It was a passing bell. 
 
 " Lord, into Thy hands I commend my spirit ! " 
 prayed Sintram ; and full of earnest devotion he 
 rode after Death, who beckoned him on. 
 
 " He has thee not yet ! He has thee not yet ! " 
 screamed the fearful fiend. " Give thyself up to me 
 rather. In one instant, — for swift are thy thoughts, 
 swift is my might, — in one instant t"hou shalt be in 
 N^ormandy. Helen yet blooms in beauty as when 
 «he departed hence, and this very night she would 
 
404 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 be thine." And once again he began his unholy 
 praises of Gabrielle's loveliness, and Sintram's heart 
 glowed like wild-fire in his weak breast. 
 
 Death said nothing more, but raised the hour- 
 glass in his right hand yet higher and higher ; and 
 as the sand now ran out more quickly, a soft light 
 streamed from the glass over Sintram's countenance, 
 and then it seemed to him as if eternity in all its 
 calm majesty were rising before him, and a world of 
 confusion dragging him back with a deadly grasp. 
 
 " I command thee, wild form that foUowest me," 
 cried he, — "I command thee, in the name of our 
 Lord Jesus Christ, to cease from thy seducing words, 
 and to call thyself by that name by which thou art 
 recorded in Holy Writ ! " 
 
 A name, more fearful than a thunderclap, burst 
 despairingly from the lips of the Tempter, and he 
 disappeared. 
 
 " He will return no more," said Death in a kindly 
 tone. 
 
 " And now I am become wholly thine, my stem 
 companion ? " 
 
 " Not yet, my Sintram. I shall not come to thee 
 till many, many years are past. But thou must not 
 forget me the while." 
 
 " I will keep the thought of thee steadily before 
 my soul, thou fearful yet wholesome monitor, thou 
 awful yet loving guide ! " 
 
 " Oh ! I can truly appear very gentle." 
 
 And so it proved indeed. His form became more 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 406 
 
 Boflly defined in the increasing gleam of light which 
 shone from the hour-glass ; the features, which had 
 been awful in their sternness, wore a gentle smile ; 
 the crown of serpents became a bright palm-wreath ; 
 instead of the horse appeared a white misty cloud in 
 the moonlight ; and the bell gave forth sounds as of 
 sweet lullabies. Sintram thought he could hear 
 these words amidst them : — 
 
 " The world and Satan are o'ercome; 
 Before thee gleams eternal light, 
 Warrior, who hast won the strife : 
 Save from darkest shades of night 
 Him before whose aged eyes 
 All my terrors soon shall rise." 
 
 The knight well knew that his father was meant ; 
 and he urged on his noble steed, which now obeyed 
 his master willingly and gladly, and the faithful dog 
 also again ran beside him fearlessly. Death had dis- 
 appeared ; but in front of Sintram there floated a 
 bright morning cloud, which continued visible after 
 the sun had risen clear and warm in the bright 
 winter sky. 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 " He is dead ! the horrors of that fearful stormy 
 night have killed him ! " Thus said, about this time, 
 Bome of Biorn's retainers, who had not been able to 
 bring him back to his senses since the morning of 
 the day before : they had made a couch of wolf and 
 bear skins for him in the great hall, in the midst of 
 the armor which still lay scattered around. One of 
 the esquires said with a low sigH : " The Lord have 
 mercy on his poor wild soul ! " 
 
 Just then the warder blew his horn from his 
 tower, and a trooper came into the room with a look 
 of surprise. " A knight is coming hither," said he ; 
 " a wonderful knight. I could have taken him for 
 our Lord Sintram ; but a bright, bright morning 
 cloud floats so close before him, and throws over 
 him such clear light, that one could fancy red flowers 
 were showered down upon him. Besides, his horse 
 has a wreath of red leaves on his head, which was 
 never a custom of the son of our dead lord." 
 
 " Just such a one," replied another, " I wove for 
 him yesterday. He was not pleased with it at first, 
 but afterwards he let it remain." 
 
 «"But why didst thou that ? " 
 
SINTRAM AND H'lS COMPANIONS 407 
 
 ** It seemed to me as if I heard a voice singing 
 again and again in my ear : * Victory ! victory ! the 
 noblest victory ! The knight rides forth to victory ! ' 
 And then I saw a branch of our oldest oak-tree 
 stretched towards me, which had kept on almost all 
 its red and yellow leaves in spite of the snow. So I 
 did according to what I had heard sung; and I 
 plucked some of the leaves, and wove a triumphal 
 wreath for the noble war-horse. At the same time 
 Skovmark, — you know that the faithful beast had 
 always a great dislike to Biorn, and therefore had 
 gone to the stable with the horse, — Skovmark 
 jumped upon me, fawning, and seemed pleased, as 
 if he wanted to thank me for my work ; and such 
 noble animals understand well about good prognos- 
 tics." 
 
 They heard the sound of Sintram's spurs on the 
 stone steps, and Skovmark's joyous bark. At that 
 instant the supposed corpse of old Biorn sat up, 
 looked around with rolling, staring eyes, and asked 
 of the terrified retainers in a hollow voice, " Who 
 comes there, ye people ? who comes there ? I know 
 it is my son. But who comes with him ? The 
 answer to that bears the sword of decision in its 
 mouth. For see, good people, Gotthard and Rud- 
 lieb have prayed much for me ; yet if the little Mas- 
 ter come with him, I am lost in spite of them." 
 
 " Thou art not lost, my beloved father ! " Sin- 
 tram's kind voice was heard to say, as he softly 
 opened the door, and the bright red morning cloud 
 floated in with him. 
 
408 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 Biorn joined his hands, cast a look of thankfiihiess 
 up to heaven, and said, smiling, "Yes, praised be 
 God ! it is the right companion I It is sweet gentle 
 Death ! " And then he made a sign to his son to ap- 
 proach, saying, " Come here, my deliverer ; come, 
 blessed of the Lord, that I may relate to thee all 
 that has passed within me." 
 
 As Sintram now sat close by his father's couch, 
 all who were in the room perceived a remarkable 
 and striking change. For old Biorn, whose whole 
 countenance, and not his eyes alone, had been wont 
 to have a fiery aspect, was now quite pale, almost 
 like white marble ; while, on the other hand, the 
 cheeks of the once deadly pale Sintram glowed with 
 a bright bloom like that of early youth. It was 
 caused by the morning cloud which still shone upon 
 him, whose presence in the room was rather felt 
 than seen ; but it produced a gentle thrill in every 
 heart. 
 
 " See, my son," began the old man, softly and 
 mildly, " I have lain for a long time in a death-like 
 sleep, and have known nothing of what was going 
 on around me ; but within — ah ! within, I have 
 known but too much ! I thought that my soul would 
 be destroyed by the eternal anguish ; and yet again 
 I felt, with much greater horror, that my soul was 
 eternal like that anguish. Beloved son, thy cheeks 
 that glowed so brightly are beginning to grow pale 
 at my words. I refrain from more. But let me re- 
 late to you something more cheering. Far, far away, 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 409 
 
 I could see a bright lofty church, where Gotthard 
 and Rudlieb Lenz were kneeling and praying for me. 
 Gotthard had grown very old, and looked almost 
 like one of our mountains covered with snow, on 
 which the sun, in the lovely evening hours, is shining 
 and Rudlieb was also an elderly man, but very vigor* 
 ous and very strong ; and they both, with all their 
 strength and vigor, were calling upon God to aid me, 
 their enemy. Then I heard a voice like that of an 
 angel, saying : ' His son does the most for him ! He 
 must this night wrestle with Death and with the 
 fallen one ! His victory will be victory, and his de- 
 feat will be defeat, for the old man and himself.* 
 Thereupon I awoke ; and I knew that all depended 
 upon whom thou wouldst bring with thee. Thou 
 hast conquered. Next to God, the praise be to 
 thee!" 
 
 " Gotthard and Rudlieb have helped much," re- 
 plied Sintram ; " and, beloved father, so have the 
 fervent prayers of the chaplain of Drontheim. I 
 felt, when struggling with temptation and deadly 
 fear, how the heavenly breath of holy men floated 
 round me and aided me." 
 
 " I am most willing to believe that, my noble son, 
 and everything thou sayest to me," answered the old 
 man ; and at the same moment the chaplain also 
 coming in, Biorn stretched out his hand towards him 
 with a smile of peace and joy. And now all seemed 
 to be surrounded with a bright circle of unity and 
 blessedness. " But see," said old Biorn, " how the 
 
410 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 faithful Skovmark jumps upon me now, and tries to 
 caress me. It is not long since he used always to 
 howl with terror when he saw me." 
 
 "My dear lord," said the chaplain, "there is a 
 spirit dwelling in good beasts, though dreamy and 
 unconscious," 
 
 As the day wore on, the stillness in the hall in- 
 creased. The last hour of the aged knight was 
 drawing near, but he met it calmly and fearlessly. 
 The chaplain and Sintram prayed beside his couch. 
 The retainers knelt devoutly around. At length the 
 dying man said : " Is that the prayer-bell in Yerena's 
 cloister ? " Sintram's looks said yea ; while warm 
 tears fell on the colorless cheeks of his father. A 
 gleam shone in the old man's eyes, the morning 
 cloud stood close over him, and then the gleam, the 
 morning cloud, and life with them, departed from 
 him. 
 
CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 A PEW days afterwards Sintram stood in the par- 
 lor of the convent, and waited with a beating heart 
 for his mother to appear. He had seen her for the 
 last time when, a slumbering child, he had been 
 awakened by her warm farewell kisses, and then had 
 fallen asleep again, to wonder in his dream what his 
 mother had wanted with him, and to seek her in 
 vain the next morning in the castle and in the gar- 
 den. The chaplain was now at his side, rejoicing in 
 the chastened rapture of the knight, whose fierce 
 spirit had been softened, on whose cheeks a light 
 reflection of that solemn morning cloud yet lin- 
 gered. 
 
 The inner doors opened. In her white veil, 
 stately and noble, the lady Verena came forward, 
 and with a heavenly smile she beckoned her son to 
 approach the grating. There could be no thought 
 here of any passionate outbreak, whether of sorrow 
 or of joy.^ The holy peace which had its abode 
 within these walls would have found its way to a 
 
 i " In whose sweet presence sorrow dares not lower, 
 Nor expectation rise 
 Too high for earth." — Christian Tear. 
 
412 SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 heart less tried and less purified than that which 
 beat in Sintram's bosom. Shedding some placid 
 tears, the son knelt before his mother, kissed her 
 flowing garments through the grating, and felt as if 
 in paradise, where every wish and every care is 
 hushed. " Beloved mother," said he, " let me be- 
 come a holy man, as thou art a holy woman. Then 
 I will betake myself to the cloister yonder ; and 
 perhaps I might one day be deemed worthy to be 
 thy confessor, if illness or the weakness of old age 
 should keep the good chaplain within the castle of 
 Drontheim." 
 
 " That would be a sweet, quietly-happy life, my 
 good child," replied the lady Verena ; " but such is 
 not thy vocation. Thou must remain a bold, power- 
 ful knight, and thou must spend the long life, which 
 is almost always granted to us children of the north, 
 in succoring the weak, in keeping down the lawless, 
 and in yet another more bright and honorable em- 
 ployment which I hitherto rather honor than know." 
 
 " God's will be done ! " said the knight, and he 
 rose up full of self-devotion and firmness. 
 
 " That is my good son," said the lady Verena. 
 " Ah ! how many sweet calm joys spring up for us ! 
 See already is our longing desire of meeting again 
 satisfied, and thou wilt never more be so entirely 
 estranged from me. Every week on this day thou 
 wilt come back to me, and thou wilt relate what glo- 
 rious deeds thou hast done, and take back with thee 
 my advice and my blessing." 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 413 
 
 " Am I not once more a good and happy child ! " 
 cried Sintram joyously ; " only that the merciful 
 God has given me in addition the strength of a man 
 in body and spirit. ' Oh, how blessed is that son to 
 whom it is allowed to gladden his mother's heart 
 with the blossoms and the fruit of his life ! " 
 
 Thus he left the quiet cloister's shade, joyful in 
 spirit and richly laden with blessings, to enter on his 
 noble career. He was not content with going about 
 wherever there might be a rightful cause to defend 
 or evil to avert; the gates of the now hospitable 
 castle stood always open also to receive and shelter 
 every stranger ; and old Rolf, who was almost grown 
 young again at the sight of his lord's excellence, was 
 established as seneschal. The winter of Sintram's 
 life set in bright and glorious, and it was only at 
 times that he would sigh within himself and say, 
 " Ah, Montfaucon ! ah, Gabrielle ! if I could dare to 
 hope that you have quite forgiven me ! " 
 
CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 The spring had come in its brightness to the 
 northern lands, when one morning Sintram turned 
 his horse homewards, after a successful encounter 
 with one of the most formidable disturbers of the 
 peace of his neighborhood. His horsemen rode 
 after him, singing as they went. As they drew near 
 the castle, they heard the sound of joyous notes 
 wound on the horn. " Some welcome visitor must 
 have arrived,'* said the knight ; and he spurred his 
 horse to a quicker pace over the dewy meadow. 
 While still at some distance, they descried old Rolf, 
 busily engaged in preparing a table for the morning 
 meal, under the trees in front of the castle-gates. 
 From all the turrets and battlements floated banners 
 and flags in the fresh morning breeze : esquires were 
 running to and fro in their gayest apparel. As soon 
 as the good Rolf saw his master, he clapped his 
 hands joyfully over his gray head, and hastened into 
 the castle. Immediately the wide gates were thrown 
 open ; and Sintram, as he entered, was met by Roll, 
 whose eyes were filled with tears of joy while he 
 pointed towards three noble forms thnt were follow- 
 ing him. 
 
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS. 415 
 
 Two men of high stature — one in extreme old 
 age, the other gray-headed, and both remarkably 
 alike — were leading between them a fair young 
 boy, in a page's dress of blue velvet, richly embroid- 
 ered with gold. The two old men wore the dark 
 velvet dress of German burghers, and had massive 
 gold chains and large shining medals hanging round 
 their necks. 
 
 Sintram had never before seen his honored guests, 
 and yet he felt as if they were well known and 
 valued friends. The very aged man reminded him 
 of his dying father's words about the snow-covered 
 mountains lighted up by the evening sun ; and then 
 he remembered, he could scarcely tell how, that he 
 had heard Folko say that one of the highest moun- 
 tains of that sort in his southern land was called the 
 St. Gotthard. And at the same time, he knew that 
 the old but yet vigorous man on the other side was 
 named Rudlieb. But the boy who stood between 
 them ; ah ! Sintram's humility dared scarcely form a 
 hope as to who he might be, however much his fea- 
 tures, so noble and soft, called up two highly hon- 
 ored images before his mind. 
 
 Then the aged Gotthard Lenz, the king of old 
 men, advanced with a solemn step, and said : " This 
 is the noble boy Engeltram of Montfaucon, the 
 only son of the great baron ; and his father and 
 mother send him to you. Sir Sintram, knowing well 
 your holy and glorious knightly career, that you may 
 bring him up to all the honorable and valiant deeds 
 
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