leader looked up sternly at the great rocks which seemed
to be smiling silently down at him. He had asked permission to dash
the diabolical seducer from the top of the rocks into the foaming
whirlpool below, where she would find a certain death, and the count
had readily agreed to this plan of revenge.

IV.

The first shades of twilight were gliding softly over mountain and
hill.

The rock was surrounded by armed men, and the leader, followed by some
daring comrades, was climbing up the side of the mountain the top of
which was veiled in a golden mist, which the men thought were the
last rays of sunset. It was a bright gleam of light enshrouding the
nymph who appeared on the rocks, dreamingly combing her golden hair.
She then took a string of pearls from her bosom, and with her slender
white hand bound them round her forehead. She cast a mocking glance at
the threatening men approaching her.

"What are the weak sons of the earth seeking up here on the heights?"
said she, moving her rosy lips scornfully. "You sorceress!" cried the
leader enraged, adding with a contemptuous smile, "You! We shall dash
you down into the river below!"

An echoing laugh was heard over the mountain.

"Oh! the Rhine will come himself to fetch me!" cried the maiden.

Then bending her slender body over the precipice yawning below, she
tore the jewels from her forehead, hurling them triumphantly into the
waters, while in a low sweet voice she sang:--

"Haste thee, haste thee oh father dear!
Send forth thy steeds from the waters clear.
I will ride with the waves and the wind!"

Then a storm burst forth, the Rhine rose, covering its banks with
foam. Two gigantic billows like snow-white steeds rose out of the
depths, and carried the nymph down into the rushing current.

V.

The terrified messengers returned to the count, bringing him the
tidings of this wonderful event.

Ronald, whose body a chance wave had washed up on the banks of the
river, was deeply mourned throughout the country.

From this time forth, the Lorelei was never seen again. Only when
night sheds her dark shadow on the hills, and the pale moon weaves a
silver bridge over the deep green stream, then the voice of a woman,
soft and low, is heard echoing from the weird heights of the rocks.

* * * * *

The Lorelei has vanished, but her charm still remains.

Thou canst find it, O Wanderer, in the eyes of the maidens near