A gentle tap at the door broke the silence, and made them all start:
it sometimes happens that a mere trifle, coming quite unexpectedly,
strikes the senses with terror. They looked at each other hesitating;
the tap was repeated, accompanied by a deep groan, and the Knight
grasped his sword. But the old man muttered, "If it is what I fear, it
is not a sword that will help us!" Undine, however, stepped forward to
the door, and said boldly and sharply, "If you are after any mischief,
you spirits of earth, Kühleborn shall teach you manners."
The terror of the others increased at these strange words; they looked
at the maiden with awe, and Huldbrand was just mustering courage to
ask her a question, when a voice answered her from without: "I am no
spirit of earth; call me, if you will, a spirit pent in mortal clay.
If you fear God, and will be charitable, you dwellers in the cottage,
open the door to me." Undine opened it before he had done speaking,
and held out a lamp into the stormy night, so as to show them the
figure of an aged Priest, who started back as the radiant beauty of
Undine flashed upon his sight. Well might he suspect magic and
witchery, when so bright a vision shone out of a mean-looking cottage;
he accordingly began a canticle, "All good spirits give praise to the
Lord!"
"I am no ghost," said Undine, smiling; "am I so frightful to behold?
And you may see that a pious saying has no terrors for me. I worship
God, too, and praise Him after my own fashion; He has not created us
all alike. Come in, venerable father; you will find worthy folks
here."
The holy man walked in, bowing and casting his eyes around, and
looking most mild and venerable. Every fold of his dark garment was
dripping with water, and so were his long white beard and hoary locks.
The Fisherman and the Knight led him to a bedroom, and gave him change
of clothing, while the women dried his wet garments by the hearth
fire. The aged stranger thanked them with all humility and gentleness,
but would by no means accept of the Knight's splendid mantle, which he
offered him; he chose himself an old gray wrapper of the Fisherman's
instead. So they returned to the kitchen; the dame up gave her own
arm-chair to the Priest, and had no peace till he sat himself down on
it: "For," said she, "you are old and weary, and a priest besides."
Undine pushed her little footstool toward the good man's feet, and
altogether behaved to him quite properly and gracefully. Huldbrand
took notice of this, in a playful whisper; but she answered very
gravely: "Because he is a servant of the Maker of us all; that is too
serious for a jest."
Meantime the two men set meat and wine before their guest, and when he
had recruited his strength a little, he began his story; saying that
the day before he had left his monastery, which was a good way off
beyond the lake, intending to visit the bishop at his palace, and
report to him the distress which these almost supernatural floods had
caused the monks and their poor tenantry. After going round a long
way, to avoid these floods, he had been obliged toward evening to
cross an arm of the overflowing lake, with the help of two honest
sailors. "But," added he, "no sooner had our little vessel touched the
waves, than we were wrapped in the tremendous storm, which is still
raging over our heads now. It looked as if the waters had only awaited
our coming to give a loose to their fury. The oars were soon dashed
from the seamen's hands, and we saw their broken fragments carried
further and further from us by the waves. We floated on the wave tops,
helpless, driven by the furious tempest toward your shores, which we
saw in the distance whenever the clouds parted for a moment. The boat
was tossed about still more wildly and giddily: and whether it upset,
or I fell out, I cannot tell. I floated on, till a wave landed me at
the foot of a tree, in this your island."
"Ay, island indeed!" said the Fisherman. "It was a promontory but a
short time ago. But, since the stream and our lake are gone raving mad
together, everything about us is new and strange."
The Priest continued: "As I crept along the water-side in the dark,
with a wild uproar around me, something caught my eye, and presently I
descried a beaten pathway, which was soon lost in the shades; I spied
the light in your cottage, and ventured to come hither; and I cannot
sufficiently thank my heavenly Father, who has not only delivered me
from the waters, but guided me to such kind souls. I feel this
blessing the more, as it is very likely I may never see any faces but
yours again."--"How so?" asked the fisherman. "Can you guess how long
this fury of the elements may last?" replied the Priest. "And I am an
old man. My stream of life may perhaps lose itself in the earth,
before these floods subside. And besides, it may be the foaming waters
will divide you from the forest more and more, till you are unable to
get across in your fishing boat; and the people of the mainland, full
of their own concerns, would quite forget you in your retreat."
Shuddering, and crossing herself, the Fisherman's wife exclaimed, "God
forbid!" But the old man smiled at her, and said, "What creatures we
are. That would make no difference, to you at least, my dear wife. How
many years is it since you have set foot within the forest? And have
you seen any face but Undine's and mine? Lately, indeed, we have had
the good Knight and Priest besides. But they would stay with us; so
that if we are forgotten in this island, you will be the gainer."
"So I see," said the dame; "yet somehow, it is cheerless to feel
ourselves quite cut off from the rest of the world, however seldom we
had seen it before."
"Then _you_ will stay with us!" murmured Undine in a sweet voice, and
she pressed closer to Huldbrand's side. But he was lost in deep
thought. Since the Priest had last spoken, the land beyond the wild
stream had seemed to his fancy more dark and distant than ever; while
the flowery island he lived in--and his bride, the fairest flower in
the picture--bloomed and smiled more and more freshly in his
imagination. Here was the Priest at hand to unite them;--and, to
complete his resolution, the old dame just then darted a reproving
look at Undine, for clinging to her lover's side in the holy man's
presence; an angry lecture seemed on the point of beginning. He turned
toward the Priest, and these words burst from him: "You see before
you a betrothed pair, reverend sir; if this damsel and the kind old
people will consent, you shall unite us this very evening."
The old folks were much surprised. Such a thought had often crossed
their minds, but they had never till this moment heard it uttered; and
it now fell upon their ears like an unexpected thing. Undine had
suddenly become quite grave, and sat musing deeply, while the Priest
inquired into various circumstances, and asked the old couple's
consent to the deed. After some deliberation, they gave it; the dame
went away to prepare the young people's bridal chamber, and to fetch
from her stores two consecrated tapers for the wedding ceremony.
Meanwhile the Knight was pulling two rings off his gold chain for
himself and his bride to exchange. But this roused Undine from her
reverie, and she said: "Stay! my parents did not send me into the
world quite penniless; they looked forward long ago to this occasion
and provided for it." She quickly withdrew, and returned bringing two
costly rings, one of which she gave to her betrothed and kept the
other herself. This astonished the old Fisherman, and still more his
wife, who came in soon after; for they neither of them had ever seen
these jewels about the child. "My parents," said Undine, "had these
rings sewed into the gay dress which I wore, when first I came to you.
They charged me to let no one know of them till my wedding-day came.
Therefore I took them secretly out of the dress, and have kept them
hidden till this evening."
Here the Priest put a stop to the conversation, by lighting the holy
tapers, placing them on the table, and calling the young pair to him.
With few and solemn words he joined their hands; the aged couple gave
their blessing, while the bride leaned upon her husband, pensive and
trembling.
When it was over, the Priest said: "You are strange people after all!
What did you mean by saying you were the only inhabitants of this
island? During the whole ceremony there was a fine-looking tall man,
in a white cloak, standing just outside the window opposite me. He
must be near the door still, if you like to invite him in."--"Heaven
forbid!" said the dame shuddering; the old man shook his head without
speaking; and Huldbrand rushed to the window. He could fancy he saw a
streak of white, but it was soon lost in darkness. So he assured the
Priest he must have been mistaken; and they all sat down comfortably
round the fire.