n;" and he devoted himself to
the task of soothing her grief, and determined he would take her away
the next morning from a spot now so full of bitter recollections.

They were mistaken, however, in thinking that she had lost in the eyes
of the world by this adventure. So prepared were the minds of the
people to find something mysterious in her, that her strange discovery
of Bertalda's origin scarcely surprised them; while, on the other
hand, everyone that heard of Bertalda's history and of her passionate
behaviour, was moved with indignation. Of this, the Knight and Undine
were not aware; nor would it have given them any comfort, for she was
still as jealous of Bertalda's good name as of her own. Upon the
whole, they had no greater wish than to leave the town without delay.

At daybreak next morning, Undine's chariot was in readiness at the
door, and the steeds of Huldbrand and of his squires stood around it,
pawing the ground with impatience. As the Knight led his fair bride to
the door, a fishing girl accosted them. "We want no fish," said
Huldbrand; "we are just going away." The girl began to sob bitterly,
and they then recognised her as Bertalda. They immediately turned back
into the house with her; and she said that the Duke and Duchess had
been so incensed at her violence the day before, as to withdraw their
protection from her, though not without giving her a handsome
allowance. The Fisherman too had received a liberal gift, and had
departed that evening with his wife, to return to the promontory. "I
would have gone with them," she continued, "but the old Fisherman,
whom they call my father--"

"And so he is, Bertalda," interrupted Undine. "He is your father. For
the man you saw at the fountain told me how it is. He was trying to
persuade me that I had better not take you to Ringstetten, and he let
drop the secret."

"Well then," said Bertalda, "my father--if so it must be--my father
said, 'You shall not live with us till you are an altered creature.
Take courage and come across the haunted forest to us; that will show
that you sincerely wish to belong to your parents. But do not come in
your finery; be like what you are, a fisherman's daughter.' And I will
do as he bids me; for the whole world has forsaken me, and I have
nothing left, but to live and die humbly in a poor hut, alone with my
lowly parents. I do dread the forest very much. They say it is full of
grim spectres, and I am so timid! But what can I