d many a
place rich in old memories: the Lorelei Rock, where the water nymph
sang at night: the cheerful little spot where St. Goar lived and
worked at the time of Childebert, the Merovingian, (that wonderful
saint who once spread a fog over his imperial uncle, compelling him to
pass the night in the open air, because his Majesty, while journeying
from Ingelheim to Coblenz had neglected to bend his knee in his
chapel) and the green meadows near Andernach, where Genovefa, wife of
Palatine Count Siegfried lived. And now Roland neared the place where
the stream reaches the end of the Rhine Valley, and where the seven
giants are to be seen, the summit of one of which is crowned with a
castle; there they stand like the seven knights who in later times
stood weeping round the holy remains of the German emperor.

A wooded island lay in the deep-blue waters. The setting sun threw a
golden light over the hills. On the sides of the mountains there were
numberless vineyards, to the left, hedges of beeches ascending to the
heights of the rugged summits, to the right, the murmur of the
rippling waters, and above, visible among the legendary rocks where
once a terrible beast lived, the pinnacles of a knight's castle, and
over all, the heavens clothed with a garment of silver stars.

The knight paused in silence; his glance rested admiringly on the
beautiful picture. His steed pawed the ground uneasily with his
bronze-shod hoofs, and his faithful squire looked anxiously at the
darkening sky. He reminded his master modestly that it was time to
seek shelter for the night.

"I should like to beg for it up there," said Roland dreamingly, an
inexplicable feeling of sweet sadness coming over him for the first
time. He bade his squire ask the boatman who was putting out his
little bark to cross the river, what was the name of the castle? The
castle was the Drachenburg, where Count Heribert sojourned sometimes.
Thus ran the answer which pleased Roland very much. He had been
charged with many greetings and messages to the old count at the
Drachenburg from his friends living near the upper Rhine. Roland now
hesitated no longer, and soon a boat was ploughing the dark waves.

II.

In the meantime night had come on. The full moon's soft beams showed
them their way through the dark forest. Count Heribert, a worthy
knight in the flower of his age, bade the nephew of his imperial
master heartily welcome to his castle. Far past midnight they s