er," thought Babette joyfully.
Fotchen and Silverpaws had likewise no rest when their mistress was
gone, and they too set out in search of her. When they reached the briar
hedge, Babette was indoors making tea. They began to miew and made a
great noise.
"The old woman's cats, by Thor!" said the wizard. "They know a thing or
two. I'll go and let them in." So saying he again parted the hedge with
his wand, and let them through. Although Babette was very pleased to see
them, she felt a little anxious as to their welfare.
However the wizard scratched their heads, and was quite affectionate to
them. He had, it seemed, a partiality for cats.
Babette felt a little happier now that her pets were with her; yet her
heart was sore. She thought of her lovely house, of her kind, good
foster-father, and of all her friends, and the tears stood in her eyes.
Several weeks passed away, and Babette cooked and scrubbed every day in
fear and trembling, like a regular little Cinderella. Being German, she
was used to helping in the household, and was not so inexperienced as
many English girls would have been. But never a word of praise did she
get from her queer companion; but if anything were amiss, then he opened
his mouth and scolded the poor girl roughly.
PART III
A young man was returning home after a day's hunting. He was the son of
the knight of a neighbouring castle, and his name was Sir Rudolf of
Ruppertshain. It was a hot afternoon; the sunlight made a chequered
pattern through the forest trees. His bag was heavy with game, and he
whistled merrily as he strode between the oak-trees and bracken fern. He
had a light heart and an easy conscience, few enemies and many friends,
and added to these advantages was the exhilarating feeling of youth and
perfect health.
Suddenly he stopped and looked around him, startled. He heard a sweet
voice singing. The notes were clear and distinct as those of a bird, and
yet it was no bird. Who could it be in this lonely spot? He could
distinguish the words of the song as he held his breath to listen:
"A lonely maiden, I,
Sit here and sob and sigh;
No man my face can see,
Ah, who will rescue me?
O lack-a-daisy-me!
O wasted life of mine!
Here must I sadly pine;
My young life hid must be
From all humanity.
O lack-a-daisy me!
O were a knight so bold,
As in the time of old,
In days of chivalry,
He would deliver me!
O lack-a-daisy-me!"
Ru
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