helmed with
fear and terror.

"It is well," replied Heilmann, when he was informed of this; "now
my duties begin, and I need no associate."

Upon this he began to console the bride, now a widow, small result
as it produced upon her worldly thoughtless mind. The old fisherman,
on the other hand, although heartily grieved, was far more resigned
to the fate which had befallen his daughter and son-in-law, and
while Bertalda could not refrain from abusing Undine as a murderess
and sorceress, the old man calmly said: "It could not be otherwise
after all; I see nothing in it but the judgment of God, and no one's
heart has been more deeply grieved by Huldbrand's death than that of
her by whom it was inflicted--the poor forsaken Undine!"

At the same time he assisted in arranging the funeral solemnities as
befitted the rank of the deceased.

The knight was to be interred in the village churchyard which was
filled with the graves of his ancestors. And this church had been
endowed with rich privileges and gifts both by these ancestors and
by himself. His shield and helmet lay already on the coffin, to be
lowered with it into the grave, for Sir Huldbrand, of Ringstetten,
had died the last of his race; the mourners began their sorrowful
march, singing requiems under the bright, calm canopy of heaven;
Father Heilmann walked in advance, bearing a high crucifix, and the
inconsolable Bertalda followed, supported by her aged father.
Suddenly, in the midst of the black-robed attendants in the widow's
train, a snow-white figure was seen, closely veiled, and wringing
her hands with fervent sorrow. Those near whom she moved felt a
secret dread, and retreated either backward or to the side,
increasing by their movements the alarm of the others near to whom
the white stranger was now advancing, and thus a confusion in the
funeral-train was well-nigh beginning. Some of the military escort
were so daring as to address the figure, and to attempt to remove it
from the procession; but she seemed to vanish from under their
hands, and yet was immediately seen advancing again amid the dismal
cortege with slow and solemn step. At length, in consequence of the
continued shrinking of the attendants to the right and to the left,
she came close behind Bertalda. The figure now moved so slowly that
the widow did not perceive it, and it walked meekly and humbly
behind her undisturbed.

This lasted till they came to the churchyard, where the procession