Undine Part 13

In a room at the end of the long pa.s.sages stood the knight. A torch burnt dully by his side. As he stood there thinking of the days that had pa.s.sed away for ever, he heard steps coming slowly along the pa.s.sage. He listened, and, as he listened, the slow footsteps halted outside his door.

Soft fingers tapped, and then very gently the door was opened, and Huldbrand, standing before a long mirror, saw, without turning, a white-veiled figure enter and close the door.

'The stone has been taken away from the fountain, and I have come to you and you must die,' said a soft voice.

Ah, it was Undine, his beautiful lost Undine, who had come back to him. How he longed to see her face, yet how he feared to have the veil removed lest she should have changed since last he gazed upon her.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Slowly, slowly there rose out of the mouth of the well a white figure]

'If you are beauteous as in days gone by, if in your eyes I may see your soul tender as of old, draw aside your veil, that as I die I may gaze upon you,' faltered the knight.

Silently Undine threw back her veil, and Huldbrand saw her, fair as on the day he had won her for his bride. As he looked upon her, he knew that he had never loved any one in all the wide world as he loved Undine.

He bent toward the sweet face. Then Undine, kissing the knight, drew him into her arms and wept. And as she wept the tears flowed into his very heart and he also wept. Softly she laid him on his couch, and with her arms around him, Huldbrand died.

Then sorrowfully Undine raised herself from the couch, and sorrowfully she pa.s.sed from the chamber.

'My tears fell on his heart until, for very sorrow, it broke,' she said, as she glided, a pale veiled figure, through the terrified servants.

And some who dared to follow her saw that she went slowly down toward the fountain.

CHAPTER XVII

THE BURIAL

Now when Father Heilman heard that the knight was dead, he hastened to the castle to comfort Bertalda. The priest, who but the day before had married the maiden to the knight, had already fled from the haunted house.

But Father Heilman found that the haughty spirit of the bride needed no comfort. She was more angry with Undine than sorrowful that she had lost the knight. Indeed, as she thought of the strange way in which Huldbrand had been s.n.a.t.c.hed away from her, she cried aloud, 'Why did Huldbrand bring a water spirit to his home? She is worse than a mermaiden, she is a witch, a sorceress!'

Then the old fisherman, who heard her cruel words, hushed her, saying, 'It was G.o.d's will that Huldbrand should die, and Undine alone, forsaken, weeps for his death in great sorrow of soul.'

But if Father Heilman was not needed to comfort Bertalda, his presence was wanted at the burial of the knight.

Not far off there was a little village church to which the lord of Ringstetten and others of his race had given gifts. It was arranged that in the churchyard the knight should be laid to rest.

His s.h.i.+eld and helmet were laid on his coffin and would be buried with him, for the knight of Ringstetten had left no son to bear them in the years that were to come.

On the day that had been fixed the mourners walked slowly toward the churchyard, Father Heilman in front carrying a crucifix.

Then slowly a figure clad in snow-white garments, and wringing her hands in great sorrow, came to join the mourners, who all wore black clothes as a sign of their grief. Those who noticed the white-veiled figure drew closer together, terror-stricken. Others, seeing them thus fearful, turned to see the reason of their fear, and soon these too drew aside, for the white-robed figure was in their very midst.

Seeing the confusion among the mourners, some soldiers, trying to be brave, as was their duty, spoke to the white-robed figure and even tried to drive her away. But she glided quickly past them and followed onward, still toward the little church.

The maids who were walking close to Bertalda saw that the white-veiled figure would soon be by their side, and they, lest she should harm them, drew back, so that it was easy for the shadowy form to keep close to the new-made bride.

Softly, noiselessly she moved, so noiselessly that Bertalda neither heard nor saw the phantom figure.

At length the mourners reached the churchyard and gathered around the grave. Then Bertalda, looking up, saw the white-veiled figure standing by her side, and knew that it was Undine.

Fear whispered to Bertalda to leave the veiled figure undisturbed, anger bade Bertalda order that it should at once depart. And anger was going to have its way, for Bertalda opened her lips to speak, but Undine shook her head and held out her hands as though she begged for mercy.

Then Bertalda remembered all the kindness Undine had shown toward her, and especially how lovingly she had held out to her the coral necklace as they were sailing on the Danube, and as she remembered her hard heart melted, and she wept.

At that moment Father Heilman began to pray, and all the mourners knelt around the grave, in which the coffin bearing the s.h.i.+eld and helmet of the knight had now been placed.

When the prayer was ended the company arose, but the white-veiled figure was no longer to be seen.

Only on the spot where she had knelt a stream of crystal water gushed out of the earth. Quietly it flowed around the grave of the knight and then onward until it joined the river which ran past the little village church.

And in days to come the villagers would ofttimes point to the crystal stream as they told their children in solemn whispers that it, the little crystal stream, was none other than Undine, poor forsaken Undine, who thus surrounded and protected Huldbrand, her beloved.