d from sleep. As she opened her eyes, the deformed visages
disappeared. But Huldbrand was made furious by so many hideous visions.
He would have burst out in wild imprecations, had not Undine with the
meekest looks and gentlest tone of voice said--

"For God's sake, my husband, do not express displeasure against me
here--we are on the water."

The knight was silent, and sat down absorbed in deep thought. Undine
whispered in his ear, "Would it not be better, my love, to give up this
foolish voyage, and return to Castle Ringstetten in peace?"

But Huldbrand murmured wrathfully: "So I must become a prisoner in
my own castle, and not be allowed to breathe a moment but while the
fountain is covered? Would to Heaven that your cursed kindred--"

Then Undine pressed her fair hand on his lips caressingly. He said no
more; but in silence pondered on all that Undine had before said.

Bertalda, meanwhile, had given herself up to a crowd of thronging
thoughts. Of Undine's origin she knew a good deal, but not the whole;
and the terrible Kuhleborn especially remained to her an awful, an
impenetrable mystery--never, indeed, had she once heard his name. Musing
upon these wondrous things, she unclasped, without being fully conscious
of what she was doing, a golden necklace, which Huldbrand, on one of
the preceding days of their passage, had bought for her of a travelling
trader; and she was now letting it float in sport just over the
surface of the stream, while in her dreamy mood she enjoyed the bright
reflection it threw on the water, so clear beneath the glow of evening.
That instant a huge hand flashed suddenly up from the Danube, seized the
necklace in its grasp, and vanished with it beneath the flood. Bertalda
shrieked aloud, and a scornful laugh came pealing up from the depth of
the river.

The knight could now restrain his wrath no longer. He started up, poured
forth a torrent of reproaches, heaped curses upon all who interfered
with his friends and troubled his life, and dared them all,
water-spirits or mermaids, to come within the sweep of his sword.

Bertalda, meantime, wept for the loss of the ornament so very dear to
her heart, and her tears were to Huldbrand as oil poured upon the flame
of his fury; while Undine held her hand over the side of the boat,
dipping it in the waves, softly murmuring to herself, and only at times
interrupting her strange mysterious whisper to entreat her husband--

"Do not reprove me here,