The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries Volume V Part 43

They were just raising it in their hands and were already poising it over the fountain, when Bertalda came running up and called out to them to stop, as it was from this fountain that the water was brought which was so good for her complexion and she would never consent to its being closed. Undine, however, although gentle as usual, was this time more than usually firm. She told Bertalda that it was her due, as mistress of the house, to arrange her household as she thought best, and that, in this, she was accountable to no one but her lord and husband. "See, oh, pray see," exclaimed Bertalda, in an angry yet uneasy tone, "how the poor beautiful water is curling and writhing at being shut out from the bright suns.h.i.+ne and from the cheerful sight of the human face, for whose mirror it was created!" The water in the fountain was indeed wonderfully agitated and hissing; it seemed as if something within were struggling to free itself, but Undine only the more earnestly urged the fulfilment of her orders. The earnestness was scarcely needed. The servants of the castle were as happy in obeying their gentle mistress as in opposing Bertalda's haughty defiance; and in spite of all the rude scolding and threatening of the latter, the stone was soon firmly lying over the opening of the fountain. Undine leaned thoughtfully over it and wrote with her beautiful fingers on its surface. She must, however, have had something very sharp and corrosive in her hand, for when she turned away and the servants drew near to examine the stone, they perceived all sorts of strange characters upon it, which none of them had seen there before.

Bertalda received the knight, on his return home in the evening, with tears and complaints of Undine's conduct. He cast a serious look at his poor wife, and she looked down in great distress; yet she said with great composure, "My lord and husband does not reprove even a bond-slave without a hearing, how much less, then, his wedded wife?"

"Speak," said the knight with a gloomy countenance, "what induced you to act so strangely?"

"I should like to tell you when we are quite alone," sighed Undine.

"You can tell me just as well in Bertalda's presence," was the rejoinder.

"Yes, if you command me," said Undine; "but command it not. Oh pray, pray command it not!" She looked so humble, so sweet, so obedient, that the knight's heart felt a pa.s.sing gleam from better times. He kindly placed her arm within his own and led her to his apartment, when she began to speak as follows:

"You already know, my beloved lord, something of my evil uncle, Kuhleborn, and you have frequently been displeased at meeting him in the galleries of this castle. He has several times frightened Bertalda into illness. This is because he is devoid of soul, a mere elemental mirror of the outward world, without the power of reflecting the world within. He sees, too, sometimes, that you are dissatisfied with me; that I, in my childishness, am weeping at this, and that Bertalda perhaps is at the very same moment laughing. Hence he imagines various discrepancies in our home life, and in many ways mixes unbidden with our circle. What is the good of my reproving him? What is the use of my sending him angrily away? He does not believe a word I say. His poor nature has no idea that the joys and sorrows of love have so sweet a resemblance, and are so closely linked that no power can separate them. Amid tears a smile s.h.i.+nes forth, and a smile allures tears from their secret chambers."

She looked up at Huldbrand, smiling and weeping; and he again experienced within his heart all the charm of his old love. She felt this, and, pressing him more tenderly to her, she continued amid tears of joy, "As the disturber of our peace was not to be dismissed with words, I have been obliged to shut the door upon him. And the only door by which he obtains access to us, is that fountain. He is at odds with the other water-spirits in the neighborhood, counting from the adjacent valleys, and his kingdom only recommences further off on the Danube, into which some of his good friends direct their course. For this reason I had the stone placed over the opening of the fountain, and I inscribed characters upon it which cripple all my uncle's power, so that he can now neither intrude upon you, nor upon me, nor upon Bertalda. Human beings, it is true, can raise the stone again with ordinary effort, in spite of the characters inscribed on it; the inscription does not hinder them. If you wish, therefore, follow Bertalda's desire, but, truly, she knows not what she asks! The ill-bred Kuhleborn has set his mark especially upon her; and if this or that came to pa.s.s which he has predicted to me and which might indeed happen without your meaning any evil--ah! dear one, even you would then be exposed to danger!"

Huldbrand felt deeply the generosity of his sweet wife, in her eagerness to shut up her formidable protector while she had even been chided for it by Bertalda. He pressed her therefore in his arms with the utmost affection, and said with emotion, "The stone shall remain, and all shall remain, now and ever, as you wish to have it, my sweet little Undine."

She caressed him with humble delight as she heard the expressions of love so long withheld, and then at length she said, "My dearest friend, since you are so gentle and kind today, may I venture to ask a favor of you? See now, it is just the same with you as it is with summer. In the height of its glory summer puts on the flaming and thundering crown of mighty storms and a.s.sumes the air of a king over the earth. You too sometimes let your fury rise, and your eyes flash, and your voice is angry, and this becomes you well, though I in my folly may sometimes weep at it. But never, I pray you, behave thus toward me on the water, or even when we are near it. You see, my relatives would then acquire a right over me. They would unrelentingly tear me from you in their rage because they would imagine that one of their race was injured, and I should be compelled all my life to dwell below in the crystal palaces, and should never be permitted to ascend to you again; or they would send me up to you--and that, oh G.o.d, would be infinitely worse. No, no, my beloved friend, do not let it come to that, however dear poor Undine be to you." He promised solemnly to do as she desired, and husband and wife returned from the apartment, full of happiness and affection.

At that moment Bertalda appeared with some workmen to whom she had already given orders, and said in the sullen tone which she had a.s.sumed of late, "I suppose the secret conference is at an end, and now the stone may be removed. Go out, workmen, and attend to it."

But the knight, angry at her impertinence, directed in short and very decisive words that the stone should be left; he reproved Bertalda, too, for her violence toward his wife. Whereupon the workmen withdrew, smiling with secret satisfaction; while Bertalda, pale with rage, hurried away to her rooms.

The hour for the evening repast arrived, and Bertalda was waited for in vain. They sent after her, but the domestic found her apartments empty, and only brought back with him a sealed letter addressed to the knight. He opened it with alarm, and read: "I feel with shame that I am only a poor fisher-girl. I will expiate my fault in having forgotten this for a moment, by returning to the miserable cottage of my parents. Farewell to you and your beautiful wife."

Undine was heartily distressed. She earnestly entreated Huldbrand to hasten after their friend and bring her back again. Alas! she had no need to urge him. His affection for Bertalda burst forth again with vehemence. He hurried round the castle, inquiring if any one had seen which way the beautiful fugitive had gone. He could learn nothing of her and was already on his horse in the castle-yard, resolved to take at a venture the road by which he had brought Bertalda hither. Just then a page appeared, who a.s.sured him that he had met the lady on the path to the Black Valley. Like an arrow the knight sprang through the gate-way in the direction indicated, without hearing Undine's voice of agony as she called to him from the window: "To the Black Valley! Oh, not there! Huldbrand, don't go there! or, for Heaven's sake, take me with you!" But when she perceived that all her calling was in vain, she ordered her white palfrey to be saddled immediately and rode after the knight without allowing any servant to accompany her.

CHAPTER XIV

How Bertalda returned home with the Knight

The Black Valley lies deep within the mountains. What it is now called we do not know. At that time the people of the country gave it this appellation on account of the deep obscurity in which the low land lay, owing to the shadows of the lofty trees, and especially firs, that grew there. Even the brook which bubbled between the rocks wore the same dark hue, and dashed along with none of that gladness with which streams are wont to flow that have the blue sky immediately above them. Now, in the growing twilight of evening, it looked altogether wild and gloomy between the heights. The knight trotted anxiously along the edge of the brook, fearful at one moment that by delay he might allow the fugitive to advance too far, and, at the next, that by too great rapidity he might overlook her in case she were concealing herself from him. Meanwhile he had already penetrated quite a ways into the valley, and might soon hope to overtake the maiden if he were on the right track, but the fear that this might not be the case made his heart beat with anxiety. Where would the tender Bertalda tarry through the stormy night, which was so fearful in the valley, should he fail to find her? At length he saw something white gleaming through the branches on the slope of the mountain. He thought he recognized Bertalda's dress, and turned his course in that direction. But his horse refused to go forward; it reared impatiently; and its master, unwilling to lose a moment, and seeing moreover that the copse was impa.s.sable on horseback, dismounted; then, fastening his snorting steed to an elm-tree, he worked his way cautiously through the bushes. The branches sprinkled his forehead and cheeks with the cold drops of the evening dew; a distant roll of thunder was heard murmuring from the other side of the mountains; everything looked so strange that he began to feel a dread of the white figure which now lay only a short distance from him on the ground. Still he could plainly see that it was a woman, either asleep or in a swoon, and that she was attired in long white garments such as Bertalda had worn on that day. He stepped close up to her, made a rustling with the branches, and let his sword clatter, but she moved not. "Bertalda!"

he exclaimed, at first in a low voice, and then louder and louder--but still she heard not. At last, when he uttered the dear name with a more powerful effort, a hollow echo from the mountain-caverns of the valley indistinctly reverberated "Bertalda!" but still the sleeper woke not. He bent down over her; the gloom of the valley and the obscurity of approaching night would not allow him to distinguish her features.

Just as he was stooping closer over her with a feeling of painful doubt, a flash of lightning shot across the valley, he saw before him a frightfully distorted countenance, and a hollow voice exclaimed, "Give me a kiss, you enamoured swain!" Huldbrand sprang up with a cry of horror, and the hideous figure rose with him. "Go home!" it murmured; "wizards are on the watch. Go home, or I will have you!" and it stretched out its long white arms toward him.

"Malicious Kuhleborn!" cried the knight, recovering himself. "Hey, 'tis you, you goblin? There, take your kiss!" And he furiously hurled his sword at the figure. But it vanished like vapor, and a gush of water which wetted him through left the knight in no doubt as to the foe with whom he had been engaged. "He wishes to frighten me back from Bertalda," said he aloud to himself; "he thinks to terrify me with his foolish tricks, and to make me give up the poor distressed girl to him so that he can wreak his vengeance on her. But he shall not do that, weak spirit of the elements as he is. No powerless phantom may understand what a human heart can do when its best energies are aroused." He felt the truth of his words, and that the very expression of them had inspired his heart with fresh courage.

It seemed too as if fortune were on his side, for he had not reached his fastened horse when he distinctly heard Bertalda's plaintive voice not far distant, and could catch her weeping accents through the ever increasing tumult of the thunder and tempest. He hurried swiftly in the direction of the sound, and found the trembling girl just attempting to climb the steep in order to escape in any way from the dreadful gloom of the valley. He stepped, however, lovingly in her path, and, bold and proud as her resolve had been before, she now felt only too keenly the delight that the friend whom she so pa.s.sionately loved should rescue her from this frightful solitude, and that the joyous life in the castle should be again open to her. She followed almost unresisting, but so exhausted with fatigue that the knight was glad to lead her to his horse, which he now hastily unfastened in order to lift the fair fugitive upon it; and then, cautiously holding the reins, he hoped to proceed through the uncertain shades of the valley.

But the horse had become quite unmanageable from the wild apparition of Kuhleborn. Even the knight would have had difficulty in mounting the rearing and snorting animal, but to place the trembling Bertalda on its back was perfectly impossible. They determined therefore to return home on foot. Leading the horse after him by the bridle, the knight supported the tottering girl with his other hand. Bertalda exerted all her strength to pa.s.s quickly through the fearful valley, but weariness weighed her down like lead and every limb trembled, partly from the terror she had endured when Kuhleborn had pursued her, and partly from her continued alarm at the howling of the storm and the pealing of the thunder through the wooded mountain.

At last she slid from the supporting arm of her protector, and, sinking down on the moss, exclaimed, "Let me lie here, my n.o.ble lord; I suffer the punishment due to my folly, and I must now perish here anyhow through weariness and dread."

"No, sweet friend, I will never leave you!" cried Huldbrand, vainly endeavoring to restrain his furious steed; for, worse than before, it now began to foam and rear with excitement, till at last the knight was glad to keep the animal at a sufficient distance from the exhausted maiden to save her from increasing fear. But scarcely had he withdrawn a few paces with the wild steed than she began to call after him in the most pitiful manner, believing that he was really going to leave her in this horrible wilderness. He was utterly at a loss what course to take. Gladly would he have given the excited beast its liberty and have allowed it to rush away into the night and spend its fury, had he not feared that in this narrow defile it might come thundering with its iron-shod hoofs over the very spot where Bertalda lay.

In the midst of this extreme perplexity and distress he heard with delight the sound of a vehicle driving slowly down the stony road behind them. He called out for help, and a man's voice replied, promising a.s.sistance, but bidding him have patience; and, soon after, two gray horses appeared through the bushes, and beside them the driver in the white smock of a carter; a great white linen cloth was next visible, covering the goods apparently contained in the wagon. At a loud shout from their master the obedient horses halted. The driver then came toward the knight and helped him restrain his foaming animal. "I see well," said he, "what ails the beast. When I first traveled this way my horses acted no better. The fact is, there is an evil water-spirit haunting the place, and he takes delight in this sort of mischief. But I have learned a charm; if you will let me whisper it in your horse's ear he will stand at once just as quiet as my gray beasts are doing there."

"Try your luck then, only help us quickly!" exclaimed the impatient knight.

The wagoner then drew down the head of the rearing charger close to his own, and whispered something in his ear. In a moment the animal stood still and quiet, and his quick panting and reeking condition were all that remained of his previous unmanageableness. Huldbrand had no time to inquire how all this had been effected. He agreed with the carter that he should take Bertalda on his wagon, where, as the man a.s.sured him, there was a quant.i.ty of soft cotton bales upon which she could be conveyed to Castle Ringstetten, and the knight was to accompany them on horseback. But the horse appeared too much exhausted by its past fury to be able to carry its master so far, so the Carter persuaded Huldbrand to get into the wagon with Bertalda. The horse could be tethered on behind. "We are going down hill," said he, "and that will make it light for my gray beasts." The knight accepted the offer and entered the wagon with Bertalda; the horse followed patiently behind, and the wagoner, steady and attentive, walked by the side.

In the stillness of the night, as its darkness deepened and the subsiding tempest sounded more and more remote, encouraged by the sense of security and their fortunate escape a confidential conversation arose between Huldbrand and Bertalda. With flattering words he reproached her for her daring flight; she excused herself with humility and emotion, and from every word she said a gleam shone forth which disclosed distinctly to the lover that the beloved was his. The knight felt the sense of her words far more than he regarded their meaning, and it was the sense alone to which he replied.

Presently the wagoner suddenly shouted with a loud voice. "Up, my grays, up with your feet, keep together! Remember who you are!" The knight leaned out of the wagon and saw that the horses were stepping into the midst of a foaming stream or were already almost swimming, while the wheels of the wagon were rus.h.i.+ng round and gleaming like mill-wheels, and the wagoner had climbed up in front in consequence of the increasing waters.

"What sort of a road is this? It goes into the very middle of the stream," cried Huldbrand to his guide.

"Not at all, sir," returned the other laughing, "it is just the reverse; the stream goes into the very middle of our road. Look round and see how every thing is covered by the water."

The whole valley indeed was suddenly filled with the surging flood, that visibly increased. "It is Kuhleborn, the evil water-spirit, who wishes to drown us!" exclaimed the knight. "Have you no charm against him, my friend?"

"I know indeed of one," returned the wagoner, "but I cannot and may not use it until you know who I am."

"Is this a time for riddles?" cried the knight. "The flood is ever rising higher, and what does it matter to me to know who you are?"

"It does matter to you, though," said the wagoner, "for I am Kuhleborn." So saying, he thrust his distorted face into the wagon with a grin, but the wagon was a wagon no longer, the horses were not horses--all was transformed to foam and vanished in the hissing waves, and even the wagoner himself, rising as a gigantic billow, drew down the vainly struggling horse beneath the waters, and then, swelling higher and higher, swept over the heads of the floating pair, like some liquid tower, threatening to bury them irrecoverably.

Just then the soft voice of Undine sounded through the uproar, the moon emerged from the clouds, and by its light Undine was seen on the heights above the valley. She rebuked, she threatened the floods below; the menacing tower-like wave vanished, muttering and murmuring, the waters flowed gently away in the moonlight, and, like a white dove, Undine flew down from the height, seized the knight and Bertalda, and bore them with her to a fresh, green, turfy spot on the hill, where with choice refres.h.i.+ng restoratives she dispelled their terrors and weariness; then she a.s.sisted Bertalda to mount the white palfrey, on which she had herself ridden here, and thus all three returned to Castle Ringstetten.

CHAPTER XV

The Journey to Vienna

After this last adventure they lived quietly and happily at the castle. The knight more and more clearly perceived the heavenly goodness of his wife, which had been so n.o.bly exhibited by her pursuit and her rescue in the Black Valley, where Kuhleborn's power again commenced; Undine herself felt that peace and security which is never lacking to a mind so long as it is distinctly conscious of being on the right path, and, besides, in the newly-awakened love and esteem of her husband many a gleam of hope and joy shone upon her. Bertalda, on the other hand, showed herself grateful, humble, and timid, without regarding her conduct as anything meritorious. Whenever Huldbrand or Undine were about to give her any explanation regarding the covering of the fountain or the adventure in the Black Valley, she would earnestly entreat them to spare her the recital, as she felt too much shame at the recollection of the fountain and too much fear at the remembrance of the Black Valley. She learned therefore nothing further of either; and for what end was such knowledge necessary? Peace and joy had visibly taken up their abode at Castle Ringstetten. They felt secure on this point, and imagined that life could now produce nothing but pleasant flowers and fruits.

In this happy condition of things winter had come and pa.s.sed away, and spring with its fresh green shoots and its blue sky was gladdening the joyous inmates of the castle. Spring was in harmony with them, and they with spring; what wonder then that its storks and swallows inspired them also with a desire to travel? One day when they were taking a pleasant walk to one of the sources of the Danube, Huldbrand spoke of the magnificence of the n.o.ble river, how it widened as it flowed through countries fertilized by its waters, how the charming city of Vienna shone forth on its banks, and how with every step of its course it increased in power and loveliness. "It must be glorious to go down the river as far as Vienna!" exclaimed Bertalda, but immediately relapsing into her present modesty and humility she paused and blushed deeply.

This touched Undine deeply, and with the liveliest desire to give pleasure to her friend she asked, "What hinders us from starting on the little voyage?" Bertalda exhibited the greatest delight, and both she and Undine began at once to picture in the brightest colors the tour of the Danube. Huldbrand also gladly agreed to the prospect; only he once whispered anxiously in Undine's ear, "But Kuhleborn becomes possessed of his power again out there!"

"Let him come," she replied with a smile; "I shall be there, and he ventures upon none of his mischief before me." The last impediment was thus removed; they prepared for the journey, and soon after set out upon it with fresh spirits and the brightest hopes.

But wonder not, O man, if events always turn out different from what we have intended! That malicious power, lurking for our destruction, gladly lulls its chosen victim to sleep with sweet songs and golden fairy tales; while on the other hand the rescuing messenger from Heaven often knocks sharply and alarmingly at our door.

During the first few days of their voyage down the Danube they were extremely happy. Everything grew more and more beautiful, as they sailed further and further down the proudly flowing stream. But in a region, otherwise so pleasant, and in the enjoyment of which they had promised themselves the purest delight, the ungovernable Kuhleborn began, undisguisedly, to exhibit his power, which started again at this point. This was indeed manifested in mere teasing tricks, for Undine often rebuked the agitated waves or the contrary winds, and then the violence of the enemy would be immediately submissive; but again the attacks would be renewed, and again Undine's reproofs would become necessary, so that the pleasure of the little party was completely destroyed. The boatmen too were continually whispering to one another in dismay and looking with distrust at the three strangers whose servants even began more and more to forebode something uncanny and to watch their masters with suspicious glances. Huldbrand often said to himself, "This comes from like not being linked with like, from a man uniting himself with a mermaid!" Excusing himself, as we all love to do, he would often think indeed as he said this, "I did not really know that she was a sea-maiden. Mine is the misfortune that every step I take is disturbed and haunted by the wild caprices of her race; but mine is not the guilt." By such thoughts as these he felt himself in some measure strengthened, but, on the other hand, he felt increasing ill-humor and almost animosity toward Undine. He would look at her with an expression of anger, the meaning of which the poor wife understood well. Wearied with this exhibition of displeasure and exhausted by the constant effort to frustrate Kuhleborn's artifices, she sank one evening into a deep slumber, rocked soothingly by the softly gliding bark.

Scarcely, however, had she closed her eyes when every one in the vessel imagined he saw, in whatever direction he turned, a most horrible human head; it rose out of the waves, not like that of a person swimming, but perfectly perpendicular as if invisibly supported upright on the watery surface and floating along in the same course with the bark. Each wanted to point out to the other the cause of his alarm, but each found the same expression of horror depicted on the face of his neighbor, only that his hands and eyes were directed to a different point where the monster, half laughing and half threatening, rose before him. When, however, they all wished to make one another understand what each saw, and all were crying out, "Look there--!

No--there!" the horrible heads all appeared simultaneously to their view, and the whole river around the vessel swarmed with the most hideous apparitions. The universal cry raised at the sight awoke Undine. As she opened her eyes the wild crowd of distorted visages disappeared. But Huldbrand was indignant at such unsightly jugglery.

He would have burst forth in uncontrolled imprecations had not Undine said to him with a humble manner and a softly imploring tone, "For G.o.d's sake, my husband, we are on the water; do not be angry with me now." The knight was silent, and sat down absorbed in reverie. Undine whispered in his ear, "Would it not be better, my love, if we gave up this foolish journey and returned to Castle Ringstetten in peace?"

But Huldbrand murmured moodily, "So I must be a prisoner in my own castle and be able to breathe only so long as the fountain is closed!

I would your mad kindred--" Undine lovingly pressed her fair hand upon his lips. He paused, pondering in silence over much that Undine had before said to him.