e moment
they recognized Father Heilmann, they sprang up, and pressed round
him with warm welcome. But he, without making much reply, begged
Huldbrand to go with him into the castle; and when the latter looked
astonished, and hesitated to obey the grave summons, the reverend
father said to him:--

"Why should I make any delay in wishing to speak to you in private,
Herr von Ringstetten? What I have to say concerns Bertalda and the
fisherman as much as yourself, and what a man has to hear, he may
prefer to hear as soon as possible. Are you then so perfectly
certain, Knight Huldbrand, that your first wife is really dead? It
scarcely seems so to me. I will not indeed say anything of the
mysterious condition in which she may be existing, and I know, too,
nothing of it with certainty. But she was a pious and faithful wife,
that is beyond all doubt; and for a fortnight past she has stood at
my bedside at night in my dreams, wringing her tender hands in
anguish and sighing out: 'Oh, prevent him, good father! I am still
living! oh, save his life! save his soul!' I did not understand what
this nightly vision signified; when presently your messenger came,
and I hurried thither, not to unite, but to separate, what ought not
to be joined together. Leave her, Huldbrand! Leave him, Bertalda! He
yet belongs to another; and do you not see grief for his lost wife
still written on his pale cheek? No bridegroom looks thus, and a
voice tells me that if you do not leave him, you will never be
happy."

The three listeners felt in their innermost heart that Father
Heilmann spoke the truth, but they would not believe it. Even the
old fisherman was now so infatuated that he thought it could not be
otherwise than they had settled it in their discussions during the
last few days. They therefore all opposed the warnings of the priest
with a wild and gloomy rashness, until at length the holy father
quitted the castle with a sad heart, refusing to accept even for a
single night the shelter offered, or to enjoy the refreshments
brought him. Huldbrand, however, persuaded himself that the priest
was full of whims and fancies, and with dawn of day he sent for a
father from the nearest monastery, who, without hesitation, promised
to perform the ceremony in a few days.

CHAPTER XVII.

THE KNIGHT'S DREAM.

It was between night and dawn of day that the knight was lying on
his couch, half-waking, half-sleeping. Whenever he was on the point
of