CHAPTER II.
IN WHAT WAY UNDINE HAD COME TO THE FISHERMAN
Huldbrand and the fisherman sprang from their seats and were on thepoint of following the angry girl. Before they reached the cottagedoor, however, Undine had long vanished in the shadowy darknesswithout, and not even the sound of her light footstep betrayed thedirection of her flight. Huldbrand looked inquiringly at his host;it almost seemed to him as if the whole sweet apparition, which hadsuddenly merged again into the night, were nothing else than one ofthat band of the wonderful forms which had, but a short time since,carried on their pranks with him in the forest. But the old manmurmured between his teeth: "This is not the first time that she hastreated us in this way. Now we have aching hearts and sleepless eyesthe whole night through; for who knows, that she may not some daycome to harm, if she is thus out alone in the dark until daylight."
"Then let us for God's sake follow her," cried Huldbrand, anxiously.
"What would be the good of it?" replied the old man. "It would be asin were I to allow you, all alone, to follow the foolish girl inthe solitary night, and my old limbs would not overtake the wildrunaway, even if we knew in what direction she had gone."
"We had better at any rate call after her, and beg her to comeback," said Huldbrand; and he began to call in the most earnestmanner: "Undine! Undine! Pray come back!" The old man shook hishead, saying, that all that shouting would help but little, for theknight had no idea how self-willed the little truant was. But stillhe could not forbear often calling out with him in the dark night:"Undine! Ah! dear Undine, I beg you to come back--only this once!"
It turned out, however, as the fisherman had said. No Undine was tobe heard or seen, and as the old man would on no account consentthat Huldbrand should go in search of the fugitive, they were atlast both obliged to return to the cottage. Here they found the fireon the hearth almost gone out, and the old wife, who took Undine'sflight and danger far less to heart than her husband, had alreadyretired to rest. The old man blew up the fire, laid some dry wood onit, and by the light of the flame sought out a tankard of wine,which he placed between himself and his guest. "You, sir knight,"said he, "are also anxious about that silly girl, and we would bothrather chatter and drink away a part of the night than keep turninground on our rush mats trying in vain to sleep. Is it not so?"Huldbrand was well satisfied with the plan; the fisherman obligedhim to take the seat of honor vacated by the good old housewife, andboth drank and talked together in a manner becoming two honest andtrusting men. It is true, as often as the slightest thing movedbefore the windows, or even at times when nothing was moving, one ofthe two would look up and say: "She is coming!" Then they would besilent for a moment or two, and as nothing appeared, they wouldshake their heads and sigh and go on with their talk.
As, however, neither could think of anything but of Undine, theyknew of nothing better to do than that the old fisherman should tellthe story, and the knight should hear, in what manner Undine hadfirst come to the cottage. He therefore began as follows:--
"It is now about fifteen years ago that I was one day crossing thewild forest with my goods, on my way to the city. My wife had stayedat home, as her wont is, and at this particular time for a very goodreason, for God had given us, in our tolerably advanced age, awonderfully beautiful child. It was a little girl; and a questionalready arose between us, whether for the sake of the new-comer, wewould not leave our lovely home that we might better bring up thisdear gift of heaven in some more habitable place. Poor people indeedcannot do in such cases as you may think they ought, sir knight,but, with God's blessing, every one must do what he can. Well, thematter was tolerably in my head as I went along. This slip of landwas so dear to me, and I shuddered when, amid the noise and brawlsof the city, I thought to myself, 'In such scenes as these, or inone not much more quiet, thou wilt also soon make thy abode!' But atthe same time I did not murmur against the good God; on thecontrary, I thanked him in secret for the new-born babe; I should betelling a lie, too, were I to say, that on my journey through thewood, going or returning, anything befell me out of the common way,and at that time I had never seen any of its fearful wonders. TheLord was ever with me in those mysterious shades."
As he spoke he took his little cap from his bald head, and remainedfor a time occupied with prayerful thoughts; he then covered himselfagain, and continued:--
"On this side the forest, alas! a sorrow awaited me. My wife came tomeet me with tearful eyes and clad in mourning. 'Oh! Good God!' Igroaned, 'where is our dear child? speak!'--'With him on whom youhave called, dear husband,' she replied; and we now entered thecottage together weeping silently. I looked around for the littlecorpse, and it was then only that I learned how it had allhappened."
"My wife had been sitting with the child on the edge of the lake,and as she was playing with it, free of all fear and full ofhappiness, the little one suddenly bent forward, as if attracted bysomething very beautiful in the water. My wife saw her laugh, thedear angel, and stretch out her little hands; but in a moment shehad sprung out of her mother's arms, and had sunk beneath the waterymirror. I sought long for our little lost one; but it was all invain; there was no trace of her to be found."
"The same evening we, childless parents, were sitting silentlytogether in the cottage; neither of us had any desire to talk, evenhad our tears allowed us. We sat gazing into the fire on the hearth.Presently, we heard something rustling outside the door: it flewopen, and a beautiful little girl three or four years old, richlydressed, stood on the threshold smiling at us. We were quite dumbwith astonishment, and I knew not at first whether it were a visionor a reality. But I saw the water dripping from her golden hair andrich garments, and I perceived that the pretty child had been lyingin the water, and needed help. 'Wife,' said I, 'no one has been ableto save our dear child; yet let us at any rate do for others whatwould have made us so blessed.' We undressed the little one, put herto bed, and gave her something warm; at all this she spoke not aword, and only fixed her eyes, that reflected the blue of the lakeand of the sky, smilingly upon us. Next morning we quickly perceivedthat she had taken no harm from her wetting, and I now inquiredabout her parents, and how she had come here. But she gave aconfused and strange account. She must have been born far from here,not only because for these fifteen years I have not been able tofind out anything of her parentage, but because she then spoke, andat times still speaks, of such singular things that such as we arecannot tell but that she may have dropped upon us from the moon. Shetalks of golden castles, of crystal domes, and heaven knows whatbesides. The story that she told with most distinctness was, thatshe was out in a boat with her mother on the great lake, and fellinto the water, and that she only recovered her senses here underthe trees where she felt herself quite happy on the merry shore. Wehad still a great misgiving and perplexity weighing on our heart. Wehad, indeed, soon decided to keep the child we had found and tobring her up in the place of our lost darling; but who could tell uswhether she had been baptized or not? She herself could give us noinformation on the matter. She generally answered our questions bysaying that she well knew she was created for Gods praise and glory,and that she was ready to let us do with her whatever would tend toHis honor and glory."
"My wife and I thought that if she were not baptized, there was notime for delay, and that if she were, a good thing could not berepeated too often. And in pursuance of this idea, we reflected upona good name for the child, for we now were often at a loss to knowwhat to call her. We agreed at last that Dorothea would be the mostsuitable for her, for I once heard that it meant a gift of God, andshe had surely been sent to us by God as a gift and comfort in ourmisery. She, on the other hand, would not hear of this, and told usthat she thought she had been called Undine by her parents, and thatUndine she wished still to be called. Now this appeared to me aheathenish name, not to be found in any calendar, and I took counseltherefore of a priest in the city. He also would not hear of thename of Undine, but at my earnest request he came with me throughthe myste
rious forest in order to perform the rite of baptism herein my cottage. The little one stood before us so prettily arrayedand looked so charming that the priest's heart was at once movedwithin him, and she flattered him so prettily, and braved him somerrily, that at last he could no longer remember the objections hehad had ready against the name of Undine. She was therefore baptized'Undine,' and during the sacred ceremony she behaved with greatpropriety and sweetness, wild and restless as she invariably was atother times. For my wife was quite right when she said that it hasbeen hard to put up with her. If I were to tell you"--
The knight interrupted the fisherman to draw his attention to anoise, as of a rushing flood of waters, which had caught his earduring the old man's talk, and which now burst against thecottage-window with redoubled fury. Both sprang to the door. There theysaw, by the light of the now risen moon, the brook which issued fromthe wood, widely overflowing its banks, and whirling away stones andbranches of trees in its sweeping course. The storm, as if awakenedby the tumult, burst forth from the mighty clouds which passedrapidly across the moon; the lake roared under the furious lashingof the wind; the trees of the little peninsula groaned from root totopmost bough, and bent, as if reeling, over the surging waters."Undine! for Heaven's sake, Undine." cried the two men in alarm. Noanswer was returned, and regardless of every other consideration,they ran out of the cottage, one in this direction, and the other inthat, searching and calling.
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