Sintram and His Companions

by Freiherr de Friedrich Heinrich Karl La Motte-Fouqué

  "Father, whom have you here with you?" cried Sintram; and his suspicionsrose to certainty as the miner turned round, and the detestable face ofthe little Master grinned from under his dark hood.

  "Yes, just see, my fair son," said the wild Biorn; "thou hast not beenhere for a long while,--and so to-night this jolly comrade has paid mea visit, and thy place has been taken. But throw one of the suits ofarmour out of the way, and put a seat for thyself instead of it,--andcome 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 armourmight clatter somewhat strangely together, or at most that the disturbedspirit 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 dowith that. So now fall to!"

  Biorn joined in the laughter of the hideous stranger with wild mirth;and while Sintram was mustering up his whole strength not to lose hissenses at so terrible words, and was fixing a calm, steady look on thelittle Master's face, the old man cried out, "Why dost thou look at himso? Does it seem as though thou sawest thyself in a mirror? Now that youare together, I do not see it so much; but a while ago I thought thatyou 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, inright of my authority as my father's heir,--as a consecrated knight andas a spirit!"

  Biorn seemed as if he wished to oppose himself to this command with allhis savage might. The little Master muttered to himself, "Thou art notby any means the master in this house, pious knight; thou hast neverlighted a fire on this hearth." Then Sintram drew the sword whichGabrielle had given him, held the cross of the hilt before the eyes ofhis evil guest, and said, calmly, but with a powerful voice, "Worship orfly!" And he fled, the frightful stranger,--he fled with such lightningspeed, that it could scarcely be seen whether he had sprung through thewindow or the door. But in going he overthrew some of the armour, thetapers went out, and it seemed that the pale blue flame which lightedup the whole in a marvellous manner gave a fulfilment to the littleMaster's former words: and that the spirits of those to whom the armourhad belonged were leaning over the table, grinning fearfully.

  Both the father and the son were filled with horror; but each chose anopposite way to save himself. Biorn wished to have his hateful guestback again; and the power of his will was seen when the little Master'sstep resounded anew on the stairs, and his brown shrivelled hand shookthe lock of the door. On the other hand, Sintram ceased not to saywithin himself, "We are lost, if he come back! We are lost to alleternity, if he come back!" And he fell on his knees, and prayedfervently from his troubled heart to Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Thenthe 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 ofwills throughout the long night; and howling whirlwinds raged the whilearound the castle, till all the household thought the end of the worldwas come.

  At length the dawn of morning appeared through the windows of thehall,--the fury of the storm was lulled,--Biorn sank back powerlessin slumber on his seat,--peace and hope came to the inmates of thecastle,--and Sintram, pale and exhausted, went out to breathe the dewyair of the mild winter's morning before the castle-gates.

  CHAPTER 26

  The faithful Skovmark followed his master, caressing him; and whenSintram fell asleep on a stone seat in the wall, he lay at his feet,keeping watchful guard. Suddenly he pricked up his ears, looked roundwith delight, and bounded joyfully down the mountain. Just afterwardsthe chaplain of Drontheim appeared amongst the rocks, and the good beastwent up to him as if to greet him, and then again ran back to the knightto announce the welcome visitor.

  Sintram opened his eyes, as a child whose Christmas gifts have beenplaced at his bedside. For the chaplain smiled at him as he had neveryet seen him smile. There was in it a token of victory and blessing, orat least of the near approach of both. "Thou hast done much yesterday,very much," said the holy priest; and his hands were joined, and hiseyes 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 darehope that the time will soon come when thou mayst appear before her.But Sintram, Sir Sintram, there is need of haste; for the old manabove requires speedy air, and thou hast still a heavy--as I hope thelast--yet a most heavy trial to undergo for his sake. Arm thyself, myknight, arm thyself even with bodily weapons. In truth, this time onlyspiritual armour is needed, but it always befits a knight, as well as amonk, to wear in decisive moments the entire solemn garb of his station.If it so please thee, we will go directly to Drontheim together. Thoumust return thence to-night. Such is a part of the hidden decree, whichhas been dimly unfolded to Verena's foresight. Here there is yet muchthat is wild and distracting, and thou hast great need to-day of calmpreparation."

  With humble joy Sintram bowed his assent, and called for his horse andfor a suit of armour. "Only," added he, "let not any of that armour bebrought which was last night overthrown in the hall!"

  His orders were quickly obeyed. The arms which were fetched, adornedwith fine engraved work, the simple helmet, formed rather like thatof an esquire than a knight, the lance of almost gigantic size, whichbelonged to the suit--on all these the chaplain gazed in deep thoughtand with melancholy emotion. At last, when Sintram, with the help of hisesquires, was well-nigh equipped, the holy priest spoke:

  "Wonderful providence of God! See, dear Sintram, this armour and thisspear were formerly those of Sir Weigand the Slender, and with them hedid many mighty deeds. When he was tended by your mother in the castle,and when even your father still showed himself kind towards him, heasked, as a favour, that his armour and his lance should be allowed tohang in Biorn's armoury--Weigand himself, as you well know, intendedto build a cloister and to live there as a monk--and he put his oldesquire's helmet with it, instead of another, because he was yetwearing that one when he first saw the fair Verena's angelic face. Howwondrously does it now come to pass, that these very arms, which have solong been laid aside, should be brought to you for the decisive hour ofyour life! To me, as far as my short-sighted human wisdom can tell,--tome it seems truly a very solemn token, but one full of high and gloriouspromise."

  Sintram stood now in complete array, composed and stately, and, from histall slender figure, might have been taken for a youth, had not the deeplines of care which furrowed his countenance shown him to be advanced inyears.

  "Who has placed boughs on the head of my war-horse?" asked Sintramof the esquires, with displeasure. "I am not a conqueror, nor awedding-guest. And besides, there are no boughs now but those red andyellow crackling oak-leaves, dull and dead like the season itself."

  "Sir Knight, I know not myself," answered an esquire; "but it seemed tome that it must be so."

  "Let it be," said the chaplain. "I feel that this also comes as a tokenfull of meaning from the right source."

  Then the knight threw himself into his saddle; the priest went besidehim; and they both rode slowly and silently towards Drontheim. Thefaithful dog followed his master. When the lofty castle of Drontheimappeared in sight, a gentle smile spread itself over Sintram'scountenance, like sunshine over a wintry valley. "God has done greatthings 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 mypoor troubled life."

  The chaplain assented kindly, and soon afterwards the travellers passedunder the echoing vaulted gateway into the castle-yard. At a sign fromthe priest, the retainers approached with respectful haste, and tookcharge of the horse; then he and Sintram went through long windingpassages and up many steps to the remote chamber which the chaplainhad chosen for himself; far away from the noise of men, and near to theclouds and the stars. There the two passed a quiet day in devout prayer,and earnest reading of Holy Scripture.

  When the evening bega
n to close in, the chaplain arose and said: "Andnow, my knight, get ready thy horse, and mount and ride back again tothy father's castle. A toilsome way lies before thee, and I dare not gowith you. But I can and will call upon the Lord for you all through thelong fearful night. O beloved instrument of the Most High, thou wilt yetnot be lost!"

  Thrilling with strange forebodings, but nevertheless strong and vigorousin spirit, Sintram did according to the holy man's desire. The sun setas the knight approached a long valley, strangely shut in by rocks,through which lay the road to his father's castle.

  CHAPTER 27

  Before entering the rocky pass, the knight, with a prayer andthanksgiving, looked back once more at the castle of Drontheim. Thereit was, so vast and quiet and peaceful; the bright windows of thechaplain's high chamber yet lighted up by the last gleam of the sun,which had already disappeared. In front of Sintram was the gloomyvalley, as if his grave. Then there came towards him some one riding ona small horse; and Skovmark, who had gone up to the stranger as if tofind out who he was, now ran back with his tail between his legs andhis ears put back, howling and whining, and crept, terrified, under hismaster's war-horse. But even the noble steed appeared to have forgottenhis once so fearless and warlike ardour. He trembled violently, and whenthe knight would have turned him towards the stranger, he reared andsnorted and plunged, and began to throw himself backwards. It was onlywith difficulty that Sintram's strength and horsemanship got the betterof him; and he was all white with foam when Sintram came up to theunknown traveller.

  "You have cowardly beasts with you," said the latter, in a low,smothered voice.

  Sintram was unable, in the ever-increasing darkness, rightly todistinguish what kind of being he saw before him; only a very pallidface, which at first he had thought was covered with freshly fallensnow, met his eyes from amidst the long hanging garments. It seemed thatthe stranger carried a small box wrapped up; his little horse, as ifwearied out, bent his head down towards the ground, whereby a bell,which hung from the wretched torn bridle under his neck, was made togive a strange sound. After a short silence, Sintram replied: "Noblesteeds 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 formsto 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 thisseason, at this hour, there are frightful, unearthly beasts about."

  Just then, as though to confirm the awful words of the stranger, athing swung itself down from one of the nearest trees, covered withhoar-frost,--no one could say if it were a snake or a lizard,--it curledand twisted itself, and appeared about to slide down upon the knightor his companion. Sintram levelled his spear, and pierced the creaturethrough. But, with the most hideous contortions, it fixed itself firmlyon the spear-head; and in vain did the knight endeavour to rub it offagainst the rocks or the trees. Then he let his spear rest upon hisright shoulder, with the point behind him, so that the horrible beast nolonger 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 tohave an unknown stranger in my company; so let us push on bravely intothe valley!"

  "Help!" so resounded the solemn answer; "not help. I perhaps may helpthee. But God have mercy upon thee if the time should ever come whenI could no longer help thee. Then thou wouldst be lost, and I shouldbecome very frightful to thee. But we will go through the valley--I havethy knightly word for it. Come!"

  They rode forward; Sintram's horse still showing signs of fear, thefaithful dog still whining; but both obedient to their master's will.The knight was calm and steadfast. The snow had slipped down from thesmooth rocks, and by the light of the rising moon could be seen variousstrange twisted shapes on their sides, some looking like snakes, andsome like human faces; but they were only formed by the veins in therock and the half-bare roots of trees, which had planted themselves inthat desert place with capricious firmness. High above, and at a greatdistance, the castle of Drontheim, as if to take leave, appeared againthrough an opening in the rocks. The knight then looked keenly at hiscompanion, and he almost felt as if Weigand the Slender were ridingbeside him.

  "In God's name," cried he, "art thou not the shade of that departedknight who suffered and died for Verena?"

  "I have not suffered, I have not died; but ye suffer, and ye die, poormortals!" murmured the stranger. "I am not Weigand. I am that other, whowas 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 himat these words. He looked at his horse; it appeared to him entirelyaltered. The dry, many-coloured oak-leaves on its head were waving likethe flames around a sacrifice, in the uncertain moonlight. He lookeddown again, to see after his faithful Skovmark. Fear had likewise mostwondrously changed him. On the ground in the middle of the road werelying dead men's bones, and hideous lizards were crawling about; and, indefiance of the wintry season, poisonous mushrooms were growing up allaround.

  "Can this be still my horse on which I am riding?" said the knight tohimself, in a low voice; "and can that trembling beast which runs at myside be my dog?"

  Then some one called after him, in a yelling voice, "Stop! stop! Take mealso with you!"

  Looking round, Sintram perceived a small, frightful figure with horns,and a face partly like a wild boar and partly like a bear, walking alongon its hind-legs, which were those of a horse; and in its hand was astrange, hideous weapon, shaped like a hook or a sickle. It was thebeing who had been wont to trouble him in his dreams; and, alas! it wasalso the wretched little Master himself, who, laughing wildly, stretchedout a long claw towards the knight.

  The bewildered Sintram murmured, "I must have fallen asleep; and now mydreams are coming over me!"

  "Thou art awake," replied the rider of the little horse, "but thouknowest me also in thy dreams. For, behold! I am Death." And hisgarments fell from him, and there appeared a mouldering skeleton, itsghastly head crowned with serpents; that which he had kept hidden underhis mantle was an hour-glass with the sand almost run out. Death heldit towards the knight in his fleshless hand. The bell at the neck of thelittle horse gave forth a solemn sound. It was a passing bell.

  "Lord, into Thy hands I commend my spirit!" prayed Sintram; and full ofearnest 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 thythoughts, swift is my might,--in one instant thou shalt be in Normandy.Helen yet blooms in beauty as when she departed hence, and this verynight she would be thine." And once again he began his unholy praises ofGabrielle's loveliness, and Sintram's heart glowed like wild-fire in hisweak breast.

  Death said nothing more, but raised the hour-glass in his right handyet higher and higher; and as the sand now ran out more quickly, a softlight streamed from the glass over Sintram's countenance, and then itseemed to him as if eternity in all its calm majesty were rising beforehim, and a world of confusion dragging him back with a deadly grasp.

  "I command thee, wild form that followest me," cried he, "I commandthee, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, to cease from thy seducingwords, and to call thyself by that name by which thou art recorded inHoly Writ!"

  A name, more fearful than a thunderclap, burst despairingly from thelips 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 stern companion?"

  "Not yet, my Sintram. I shall not come to thee till many, many years arepast. But thou must not forget me the while."

  "I will keep the thought of thee steadily before my soul, thou fearfulyet wholesome monitor, thou awful yet loving guide!"

  "Oh! I can truly appear very gent
le."

  And so it proved indeed. His form became more softly defined in theincreasing gleam of light which shone from the hour-glass; the features,which had been awful in their sternness, wore a gentle smile; the crownof serpents became a bright palm-wreath; instead of the horse appeared awhite misty cloud in the moonlight; and the bell gave forth sounds as ofsweet 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 hisnoble steed, which now obeyed his master willingly and gladly, andthe faithful dog also again ran beside him fearlessly. Death haddisappeared; but in front of Sintram there floated a bright morningcloud, which continued visible after the sun had risen clear and warm inthe bright winter sky.

  CHAPTER 28

  "He is dead! the horrors of that fearful stormy night have killed him!"Thus said, about this time, some of Biorn's retainers, who had notbeen able to bring him back to his senses since the morning of the daybefore: they had made a couch of wolf and bear skins for him in thegreat hall, in the midst of the armour which still lay scattered around.One of the esquires said with a low sigh: "The Lord have mercy on hispoor wild soul!"