and waved them sparkling here and
there. By this light they soon discovered the boat; they saw that the
dreaded Danish knight was bleeding, and gained fresh courage for their
pursuit. Hardly had Froda pushed the boat to the shore of the island,
before he perceived a Bohemian on the other side in another skiff, and
soon afterwards the greater number of the enemy embarked to row towards
the island. "To the wood, fair maiden," he whispered, as soon as he
had landed Hildegardis on the shore; "there conceal yourself, whilst
I endeavour to prevent the landing of the robbers." But Hildegardis,
clinging to his arm, whispered again, "Do I not see that you are pale
and bleeding? and would you have me expire with terror in the dark and
lonely clefts of this rock? Ah! and if your northern gold-haired spectre
were to appear again and seat herself beside me! Think you that I do not
see her there now, shining through the thicket!"

"She shines!" echoed Froda, and new strength and hope ran through
every vein. He climbed the hill, following the gracious gleam; and
Hildegardis, though trembling at the sight, went readily with her
companion, saying only from time to time, in a low voice "Ah, Sir
Knight!--my noble wondrous knight--leave me not here alone; that would
be my death." The knight, soothing her courteously, stepped ever onwards
through the darkness of dell and forest, for already he heard the sound
of the Bohemians landing on the shore of the island. Suddenly he stood
before a cave thick-covered with underwood, and the gleam disappeared.
"Here, then," he whispered, endeavouring to hold the branches asunder.
For a moment she paused, and said, "If you should but let the branches
close again behind me, and I were to remain alone with spectres in this
cave! But, Froda, you will surely follow me--a trembling, hunted child
as I am? Will you not?" Without more misgivings she passed through the
branches; and the knight, who would willingly have remained without as a
guard, followed her. Earnestly he listened through the stillness of
the night, whilst Hildegardis hardly dared to draw her breath. Then was
heard the tramp of an armed man, coming ever nearer and nearer, and
now close to the entrance of the cave. In vain did Froda strive to
free himself from the trembling maiden. Already the branches before the
entrance were cracking and breaking, and Froda sighed deeply. "Must I,
then, fall like a lurking fugitive, entangled in a woman's gar