sky, he started up
wildly, ran up and down the garden, as if all his former madness had
again taken possession of him; and then rushed out and wandered upon
the wild moonlit hills. There he dashed his sword against the trees and
bushes, so that on all sides was heard a sound of crashing and falling.
The birds of night flew about him screeching in wild alarm; and the
deer, startled by the noise, sprang away and took refuge in the thickest
coverts.

On a sudden old Rolf appeared, returning home from a visit to the
chaplain of Drontheim, to whom he had been relating, with tears of joy,
how Sintram was softened by the presence of the angel Gabrielle,
yea, almost healed, and how he dared to hope that the evil dreams had
yielded. And now the sword, as it whizzed round the furious youth, had
well-nigh wounded the good old man. He stopped short, and clasping
his hand, he said, with a deep sigh, "Alas, Sintram! my foster-child,
darling of my heart, what has come over thee, thus fearfully stirring
thee to rage?"

The youth stood awhile as if spell-bound; he looked in his old friend's
face with a fixed and melancholy gaze, and his eyes became dim, like
expiring watch-fires seen through a thick cloud of mist. At length
he sighed forth these words, almost inaudibly: "Good Rolf, good Rolf,
depart from me! thy garden of heaven is no home for me; and if sometimes
a light breeze blow open its golden gates, so that I can look in and see
the flowery meadow-land where the dear angels dwell, then straightway
between them and me come the cold north wind and the icy storm, and the
sounding doors fly together, and I remain without, lonely, in endless
winter."

"Beloved young knight, oh, listen to me--listen to the good angel within
you! Do you not bear in your hand that very sword with which the pure
lady girded you? does not her scarf wave over your raging breast? Do you
not recollect how you used to say, that no man could wish for more than
had fallen to you?"

"Yes, Rolf, I have said that," replied Sintram, sinking on the mossy
turf, bitterly weeping. Tears also ran over the old man's white beard.
Before long the youth stood again erect, his tears ceased to flow, his
looks were fearful, cold, and grim; and he said, "You see, Rolf, I have
passed blessed peaceful days, and I thought that the powers of evil
would never again have dominion over me. So, perchance, it might have
been, as day would ever be did the Sun ever stand in the sky.