Sintram and His Companions

by Freiherr de Friedrich Heinrich Karl La Motte-Fouqué

  "Now, why dost thou delay?" said the little Master, after a pause. "Heis dashed to pieces. Go back to the castle, and take the fair Helen tothyself."

  Sintram shuddered. Then his hateful companion began to praiseGabrielle's charms in so glowing, deceiving words, that the heart of theyouth swelled with emotions he had never before known. He only thoughtof him who was now lying at the foot of the rock as of an obstacleremoved between him and heaven: he turned towards the castle.

  But a cry was heard below: "Help! help! my comrade! I am yet alive, butI 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 knightParis to comfort her." And with detestable craft he wove in that talewith what was actually happening, bringing in the most highly wroughtpraises of the lovely Gabrielle; and alas! the dazzled youth yielded tohim, 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 me 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 tohelp me!"

  His cries were overpowered by the furious speed with which the twowere carried along on their skates, and by the evil words of the littleMaster, who was mocking at the late proud bearing of Duke Menelaustowards 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 theMoorish brides weep, the mighty Baron of Montfaucon. Never again, Odainty knight, will you shout at the head of your troops, 'Mountjoy St.Denys!'" But scarce had this holy name passed the lips of the littleMaster, than he set up a howl of anguish, writhing himself with horriblecontortions, and wringing his hands, and ended by disappearing in astorm of snow which then arose.

  Sintram planted his staff firmly in the ground, and stopped. Howstrangely did the wide expanse of snow, the distant mountains risingabove it, and the dark green fir-woods--how strangely did they all lookat him in cold reproachful silence! He felt as if he must sink under theweight of his sorrow and his guilt. The bell of a distant hermitage camefloating sadly over the plain. With a burst of tears he exclaimed, asthe darkness grew thicker round him, "My mother! my mother! I had oncea beloved tender mother, and she said I was a good child!" A ray ofcomfort came to him as if brought on an angel's wing; perhaps Montfauconwas not yet dead! and he flew like lightning along the path, back tothe steep rock. When he got to the fearful place, he stooped and lookedanxiously down the precipice. The moon, just risen in full majesty,helped him. The Knight of Montfaucon, pale and bleeding, was halfkneeling against the rock; his right arm, crushed in his fall, hungpowerless at his side; it was plain that he could not draw his goodsword out of the scabbard. But nevertheless he was keeping the bear andher young ones at bay by his bold threatening looks, so that they onlycrept round him, growling angrily; every moment ready for a fierceattack, but as often driven back affrighted at the majestic air by whichhe conquered even when defenceless.

  "Oh! what a hero would there have perished!" groaned Sintram, "andthrough whose guilt?" In an instant his spear flew with so true anaim that the bear fell weltering in her blood; the young ones ran awayhowling.

  The baron looked up with surprise. His countenance beamed as the lightof the moon fell upon it, grave and stern, yet mild, like some angelicvision. "Come down!" he beckoned; and Sintram slid down the side of theprecipice, full of anxious haste. He was going to attend to the woundedman, but Folko said, "First cut off the head and claws of the bearwhich I slew. I promised to bring the spoils of the chase to my lovelyGabrielle. Then come to me, and bind up my wounds. My right arm isbroken." Sintram obeyed the baron's commands. When the tokens of victoryhad been secured, and the broken arm bound up, Folko desired the youthto help him back to the castle.

  "O Heavens!" said Sintram in a low voice, "if I dared to look in yourface! 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 helpus? At any rate, thou hast now saved my life, and let that thought cheerthy heart."

  The youth with tenderness and strength supported the baron's left arm,and they both went their way silently in the moonlight.

  CHAPTER 18

  Sounds of wailing were heard from the castle as they approached; thechapel was solemnly lighted up; within it knelt Gabrielle, lamenting forthe death of the Knight of Montfaucon.

  But how quickly was all changed, when the noble baron, pale indeed, andbleeding, yet having escaped all mortal danger, stood smiling at theentrance of the holy building, and said, in a low, gentle voice, "Lookup, Gabrielle, and be not affrighted; for, by the honour of my race, thyknight still lives." Oh! with what joy did Gabrielle's eyes sparkle, asshe turned to her knight, and then raised them again to heaven, stillstreaming, but from the deep source of thankful joy! With the help oftwo pages, Folko knelt down beside her, and they both sanctified theirhappiness with a silent prayer.

  When they left the chapel, the wounded knight being tenderly supportedby his lady, Sintram was standing without in the darkness, himself asgloomy as the night, and, like a bird of the night, shunning the sightof men. Yet he came trembling forward into the torch-light, laid thebear's head and claws at the feet of Gabrielle, and said, "The nobleFolko of Montfaucon presents the spoils of to-day's chase to his lady."

  The Norwegians burst forth with shouts of joyful surprise at thestranger knight, who in the very first hunting expedition had slain themost fearful and dangerous beast of their mountains.

  Then Folko looked around with a smile as he said, "And now none of youmust 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 armourer's forgecame out from the crowd, and bowing low, they replied, "Noble baron,who could have thought that there was no knightly exercise in the wholeworld in the which you would not show yourself far above all other men?"

  "The pupil of old Sir Hugh may be somewhat trusted," answered Folkokindly. "But now, you bold northern warriors, bestow some praises alsoon my deliverer, who saved me from the claws of the she-bear, when I wasleaning against the rock wounded by my fall."

  He pointed to Sintram, and the general shout was again raised; and oldRolf, with tears of joy in his eyes, bent his head over his foster-son'shand. But Sintram drew back shuddering.

  "Did you but know," said he, "whom you see before you, all your spearswould be aimed at my heart; and perhaps that would be the best thing forme. But I spare the honour of my father and of his race, and for thistime I will not confess. Only this much must you know, noble warriors--"

  "Young man," interrupted Folko with a reproving look, "already againso wild and fierce? I desire that thou wilt hold thy peace about thydreaming fancies."

  Sintram was silenced for a moment; but hardly had Folko begun smilinglyto 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 everythingthat thy heart can desire; but herein I cannot serve thee. Bravewarriors, you must and shall know so much as this; I am no longer worthyto live under the same roof with the noble Baron of Montfaucon and hisangelic wife Gabrielle. And you, my aged father, good-night; long notfor me. I intend to live in the stone fortress 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 sethimself, not even Folko.

  The wild Biorn bowed his head humbly, and said, "Do according to thypleasure, my poor son; for I fear that thou art right."

  Then Sintram walked solemnly and silently through the castle-gate,followed by the good Rolf. Gabrielle led her exhausted lord up to theirapartments.

  CHAPTER 19

  That was a mournful journey on which
the youth and his agedfoster-father went towards the Rocks of the Moon, through the wildtangled paths of the snow-clad valleys. Rolf from time to time sangsome verses of hymns, in which comfort and peace were promised to thepenitent sinner, and Sintram thanked him for them with looks of gratefulsadness. Neither of them spoke a word else.

  At length, when the dawn of day was approaching, Sintram broke silenceby saying, "Who are those two sitting yonder by the frozen stream--atall man and a little one? Their own wild hearts must have driven themalso forth into the wilderness. Rolf, dost thou know them? The sight ofthem makes me shudder."

  "Sir," answered the old man, "your disturbed mind deceives you. Therestands 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, theywhisper together."

  "Sir, the morning breeze moves the branches, and whistles in the sharppine-leaves and in the yellow oak-leaves, and rustles the crisp snow."

  "Rolf, now they are both coming towards us. Now they are standing beforeus, quite close."

  "Sir, it is we who get nearer to them as we walk on, and the settingmoon throws such long giant-like shadows over the plain."

  "Good-evening!" said a hollow voice; and Sintram knew it was the crazypilgrim, near to whom stood the malignant little Master, looking morehideous than ever.

  "You are right, sir knight," whispered Rolf, as he drew back behindSintram, and made the Sign of the Cross on his breast and his forehead.

  The bewildered youth, however, advanced towards the two figures, andsaid, "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 meto the stone fortress? There I will tend thee, poor pale pilgrim; and asto thee, frightful Master, most evil dwarf, I will make thee shorter bythe head, to reward thee for thy deeds yesterday."

  "That would be a fine thing," sneered the little Master; "and perhapsthou imaginest that thou wouldst be doing a great service to the wholeworld? And, indeed, who knows? Something might be gained by it! Only,poor wretch, thou canst not do it."

  The pilgrim meantime was waving his pale head to and fro thoughtfully,saying, "I believe truly that thou wouldst willingly have me, and Iwould 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 wemust again visit thy father together, and then also thou wilt learn tocall me by my right name, my poor friend."

  "Beware of disappointing me again!" said the little Master to thepilgrim in a threatening voice; but he, pointing with his long,shrivelled hand towards the sun, which was just now rising, said, "Stopeither that sun or me, if thou canst!"

  Then the first rays fell on the snow, and the little Master ran,muttering, down a precipice; but the pilgrim walked on in the brightbeams, calmly and with great solemnity, towards a neighbouring castle onthe mountain. It was not long before its chapel-bell was heard tollingfor the dead.

  "For Heaven's sake," whispered the good Rolf to his knight--"forHeaven's sake, Sir Sintram, what kind of companions have you here? Oneof them cannot bear the light of God's blessed sun, and the other hasno sooner set foot in a dwelling than tidings of death wail after histrack. Could he have been a murderer?"

  "I do not think that," said Sintram. "He seemed to me the best of thetwo. But it is a strange wilfulness of his not to come with me. Did Inot invite him kindly? I believe that he can sing well, and he shouldhave sung to me some gentle lullaby. Since my mother has lived in acloister, no one sings lullabies to me any more."

  At this tender recollection his eyes were bedewed with tears. But he didnot himself know what he had said besides, for there was wildness andconfusion in his spirit. They arrived at the Rocks of the Moon, andmounted up to the stone fortress. The castellan, an old, gloomy man,the more devoted to the young knight from his dark melancholy and wilddeeds, hastened to lower the drawbridge. Greetings were exchanged insilence, and in silence did Sintram enter, and those joyless gatesclosed with a crash behind the future recluse.

  CHAPTER 20

  Yes truly, a recluse, or at least something like it, did poor Sintramnow become! For towards the time of the approaching Christmas festivalhis fearful dreams came over him, and seized him so fiercely, that allthe esquires and servants fled with shrieks out of the castle, and wouldnever venture back again. No one remained with him except Rolf and theold castellan. After a while, indeed, Sintram became calm, but he wentabout looking so pallid and still that he might have been taken for awandering corpse. No comforting of the good Rolf, no devout soothinglays, were of any avail; and the castellan, with his fierce, scarredfeatures, his head almost entirely bald from a huge sword-cut, hisstubborn silence, seemed like a yet darker shadow of the miserableknight. Rolf often thought of going to summon the holy chaplain ofDrontheim; but how could he have left his lord alone with the gloomycastellan, a man who at all times raised in him a secret horror? Biornhad long had this wild strange warrior in his service, and honoured himon account of his unshaken fidelity and his fearless courage, thoughneither the knight nor any one else knew whence the castellan came, nor,indeed, exactly who he was. Very few people knew by what name tocall him; but that was the more needless, since he never entered intodiscourse with any one. He was the castellan of the stone fortress onthe Rocks of the Moon, and nothing more.

  Rolf committed his deep heartfelt cares to the merciful God, trustingthat he would soon come to his aid; and the merciful God did not failhim. For on Christmas eve the bell at the drawbridge sounded, and Rolf,looking over the battlements, saw the chaplain of Drontheim standingthere, with a companion indeed that surprised him,--for close beside himappeared the crazy pilgrim, and the dead men's bones on his dark mantleshone very strangely in the glimmering starlight: but the sight of thechaplain filled the good Rolf too full of joy to leave room for anydoubt in his mind; for, thought he, whoever comes with him cannot but bewelcome! And so he let them both in with respectful haste, and usheredthem up to the hall, where Sintram, pale and with a fixed look, wassitting under the light of one flickering lamp. Rolf was obliged tosupport and assist the crazy pilgrim up the stairs, for he was quitebenumbed with cold.

  "I bring you a greeting from your mother," said the chaplain as hecame in; and immediately a sweet smile passed over the young knight'scountenance, and its deadly pallidness gave place to a bright soft glow.

  "O Heaven!" murmured he, "does then my mother yet live, and does shecare to know anything about me?"

  "She is endowed with a wonderful presentiment of the future," repliedthe chaplain; "and all that you ought either to do or to leave undoneis faithfully mirrored in various ways in her mind, during a half-wakingtrance. Now she knows of your deep sorrow, and she sends me, thefather-confessor of her convent, to comfort you, but at the same time towarn you; for, as she affirms, and as I am also inclined to think, manystrange and heavy trials lie before you."

  Sintram bowed himself towards the chaplain with his arms crossedover his breast, and said, with a gentle smile, "Much have I beenfavoured--more, a thousand times more, than I could have dared to hopein my best hours--by this greeting from my mother, and your visit,reverend sir; and all after falling more fearfully low than I had everfallen before. The mercy of the Lord is great; and how heavy soever maybe 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 hishand, the red glare of which made his face look the colour of blood. Hecast a terrified glance at the crazy pilgrim, who had just sunk backin a swoon, and was supported on his seat and tended by Rolf; thenhe stared with astonishment at the chaplain, and at last murmured,"A strange meeting! I believe that the hour for confession andreconciliation 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 poorman yonder, whom I found half-frozen by the way, would make a fullconfession 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 goodpurpose for one instant."

  Thereupon he left the room with the willing castellan, but he turnedback to say, "Sir Knight and your esquire! take good care the while ofmy sick charge."

  Sintram and Rolf did according to the chaplain's desire: and when atlength their cordials made the pilgrim open his eyes once again, theyoung knight said to him, with a friendly smile, "Seest thou? thou artcome to visit me after all. Why didst thou refuse me when, a few nightsago, I asked thee so earnestly to come? Perhaps I may have spoken wildlyand hastily. Did that scare thee away?"

  A sudden expression of fear came over the pilgrim's countenance; butsoon he again looked up at Sintram with an air of gentle humility,saying, "O my dear, dear lord, I am most entirely devoted to you--onlynever speak to me of former passages between you and me. I am terrifiedwhenever you do it. For, my lord, either I am mad and have forgotten allthat is past, or that Being has met you in the wood, whom I look upon asmy very powerful twin 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 besilent."

  Neither he nor old Rolf could understand what appeared to them so awfulin the whole matter; but both shuddered.

  After a short pause the pilgrim said, "I would rather sing you a song--asoft, comforting song. Have you not a lute here?"