f Bodmann have
been very closely connected with the island in the lake of Boden. At
first the island was in the possession of this noble race, but later
on, in the thirteenth century, it passed into the hands of an order of
German Knights. A legend relates the story to us of how this change
came to pass.

About this time the whole of this magnificent property was held in
possession by a youthful maiden, who had inherited this beautiful
island with all its many charms. As may be supposed, the wooers for
the lovely maiden's hand and inheritance became very numerous. She,
however, had made her own choice, and it had fallen upon a nobleman
from Langenstein.

Every evening when the sun was sinking down into the golden waters,
this maiden walked along the strand watching and listening for some
longed-for sound. Then the measured splash of an oar would be heard
approaching in the twilight, and a little boat would be drawn up on
the shore, a youthful boatman would spring joyfully forth, and
lovingly greet the maiden. There this pair of lovers wove dreams
about the time from which only a short period now separated them, when
they should belong openly to each other before the world.

The nobleman landed one evening as usual, but this time his heart was
depressed and sorrowful; he informed his betrothed mournfully that his
father, who was then suffering agony from gout, had once taken a vow
to God and to the emperor that he would go on a crusade to the Holy
Land, but being unable to fulfil his oath, he laid it to his son's
charge to carry it out as he meant to have done.

The maiden wept bitterly on hearing these unexpected tidings.

"Trust me and the Powers on high, I shall not make this great
sacrifice in vain," said her lover consolingly. "I shall return, that
I feel confident of."

Thus with bright hopes in his heart the youthful crusader bade his
weeping betrothed good-bye.

* * * * *

And every evening when the sun was sinking into the golden waters the
maiden walked along the strand, looking with longing eyes out into the
misty distance. Spring came and disappeared, summer followed, and the
swallows fled from the lake to warmer climes, the maiden sending many
a warm greeting with them. Wintry storms blew over the waters,
whistling round the lonely island, and the maiden had become as pale
as the flakes of snow which fell against the window-panes.

News one day reached the castle th