with them? In the name of all the
witches, remain among them with your presents, and leave us mortals in
peace, you sorceress!"

Bitterly weeping and crying, "Woe! Woe!" she vanished over the side of
the vessel. Her last words were, "Remain true! Woe! Woe!" Huldbrand lay
swooning on the deck, and little waves seemed to be sobbing on the
surface of the Danube, "Woe! Woe! Remain true!"

_IV.--The White Stranger_

For a time deep sorrow fell on the lord of Ringstetten and Bertalda.
They lived long in the castle quietly, often weeping for Undine,
tenderly cherishing her memory. Undine often visited Huldbrand in his
dreams, caressing him and weeping silently so that his cheeks were wet
when he awoke. But these visions grew less frequent, and the knight's
grief diminished by degrees. At length he and Bertalda were married, but
it was in spite of a grave warning from Father Heilmann, who declared
that Undine had appeared to him in visions, beseeching him to warn
Huldbrand and Bertalda to leave each other. They were too infatuated to
heed the admonition, and a priest from a neighbouring monastery promised
to perform the ceremony in a few days.

Meantime, when lying between sleeping and waking, the knight seemed
fanned by the wings of a swan, and, as he fell asleep, seemed borne
along on the wings of swans which sang their sweetest music. All at once
he seemed to be hovering over the Mediterranean Sea. Its waters were so
crystalline that he could see through them to the bottom, and there,
under a crystal arch, sat Undine, weeping bitterly. She seemed not to
perceive him. Kuehleborn approached her, and told her that Huldbrand was
to be wedded again, and that it would be her duty, from which nothing
could release her, to end his life.

"That I cannot do," said she. "I have sealed up the fountain against my
race."

Huldbrand felt as if he were soaring back again over the sea, and at
length he seemed to reach his castle. He awoke on his couch, but he
could not bring himself to break off the arrangements that had been
made.

The marriage feast at Ringstetten was not as bright and happy as such
occasions usually are, for a veil of gloom seemed to rest over the
company. Even the bride affected a happy and thoughtless demeanour which
she did not really feel. The company dispersed early, Bertalda retiring
with her maidens, and Huldbrand with his attendants.

In her apartment Bertalda, with a sigh, noticed how freckled was h