When Huldbrand awoke from sleep the next morning, he missed his fair
companion; and again he was tormented with a doubt, whether his
marriage, and the lovely Undine, might not be all a fairy dream. But
she soon reappeared, came up to him, and said, "I have been out early,
to see if my uncle had kept his word. He has recalled all the straying
waters into his quiet bed, and now takes his lonely and pensive course
through the forest as he used to do. His friends in the lake and the
air are gone to rest also; all things have returned to their usual
calmness; and you may set out homeward on dry land, as soon as you
please." Huldbrand felt as if dreaming still, so little could he
understand his wife's wonderful relations. But he took no notice of
this, and his sweet Undine's gentle attentions soon charmed every
uneasy thought away.
A little while after, as they stood at the door together, looking over
the fair scene with its boundary of clear waters, his heart yearned so
toward this cradle of his love that he said: "But why should we go
away so soon? we shall never spend happier days in yonder world, than
we have passed in this peaceful nook. Let us at least see two or three
more suns go down here."--"As my Lord wishes," answered Undine, with
cheerful submission; "but, you see, the old people will be grieved at
parting with me, whenever it is; and if we give them time to become
acquainted with my soul, and with its new powers of loving and
honouring them, I fear that when I go, their aged hearts will break
under the load of sorrow. As yet, they take my gentle mood for a
passing whim, such as they saw me liable to formerly, like a calm on
the lake when the winds are lulled; and they will soon begin to love
some favourite tree or flower in my place. They must not learn to know
this newly obtained, affectionate heart, in the first overflowings of
its tenderness, just at the moment when they are to lose me for this
world; and how could I disguise it from them, if we remained together
longer?"
Huldbrand agreed with her; he went to the old couple and finding them
ready to consent, he resolved upon setting out that very hour. The
Priest offered to accompany them; after a hasty farewell, the pretty
bride was placed on the horse by her husband, and they crossed the
stream's dry bed quickly, and entered the forest. Undine shed silent
but bitter tears, while the old folks wailed after her aloud. It
seemed as if some foreboding were crossing their minds, of how great
their loss would prove.
The three travellers reached the deepest shades of the forest, without
breaking silence. It was a fair sight to behold, as they passed
through the leafy bowers: the graceful woman sitting on her noble
steed, guarded on one side by the venerable Priest in the white habit
of his order; on the other, by the youthful Knight, with his gorgeous
attire and glittering sword. Huldbrand had no eyes but for his
precious wife; Undine, who had dried her duteous tears, no thought but
for him; and they soon fell into a noiseless interchange of glances
and signs, which at length was interrupted by the sound of a low
murmur, proceeding from the Priest and a fourth fellow-traveller, who
had joined them unobserved. He wore a white robe, very like the
Priest's dress, except that the hood almost covered his face, and the
rest of it floated round him in such large folds that he was
perpetually obliged to gather up, throw it over his arm, or otherwise
arrange it; yet it did not seem to impede him at all in walking; when
the young people saw him he was saying, "And so, my worthy father, I
have dwelt in the forest for many a year, yet I am not what you
commonly call a hermit. For, as I told you, I know nothing of penance,
nor do I think it would do me much good. What makes me so fond of the
woods is, that I have a very particular fancy for winding through the
dark shades and forest walks, with my loose white clothes floating
about me; now and then a pretty sunbeam will glance over me as I
go."--"You seem to be a very curious person," replied the Priest "and
I should like to know more about you."--"And pray who are you, to
carry on the acquaintance?" said the stranger. "They call me Father
Heilmann," answered the Priest, "and I belong to St. Mary's
monastery, beyond the lake."--"Ay, ay!" rejoined the other. "My name
is Kühleborn, and if I stood upon ceremony, I might well call myself
Lord of Kühleborn, or Baron (Freiherr) Kühleborn; for free I am, as
the bird of the air, or a trifle more free. For instance, I must now
have a word with the young woman there." And before they could look
round, he was on the other side of the Priest, close to Undine, and
stretching up his tall figure to whisper in her ear. But she turned
hastily away, saying, "I have nothing more to do with you
now."--"Heyday!" said the stranger, laughing, "what a prodigiously
grand marriage yours must be, if you are to cast off your relations in
this way! Have you forgotten Uncle Kühleborn, who brought you all the
way here on his back so kindly?"
"But I entreat you," said Undine, "never come to me again. I am afraid
of you now; and will not my husband become afraid of me, if he finds I
have so strange a family?"--"My little niece," said Kühleborn, "please
to remember that I am protecting you all this time; the foul Spirits
of Earth might play you troublesome tricks if I did not. So you had
better let me go on with you, and no more words. The old Priest there
has a better memory than yours, for he would have it he knew my face
very well, and that I must have been with him in the boat, when he
fell into the water. And he may well say so, seeing that the wave
which washed him over was none but myself, and I landed him safe on
the shore, in time for your wedding."
Undine and the Knight looked at Father Heilmann, but he seemed to be
plodding on in a waking dream, and not listening to what was said.
Undine said to Kühleborn, "There, I can see the end of the wood; we
want your help no longer, and there is nothing to disturb us but you.
So in love and kindness I entreat you, begone, and let us go in
peace." This seemed to make Kühleborn angry; he twisted his face
hideously, and hissed at Undine, who cried aloud for help. Like
lightning the Knight passed round her horse, and aimed a blow at
Kühleborn's head with his sword. But instead of the head, he struck
into a waterfall, which gushed down a high cliff near them, and now
showered them all with a splash that sounded like laughter, and wetted
them to the bone. The Priest, seeming to wake up, said, "Well, I was
expecting this, because that brook gushed down the rock so close to
us. At first I could not shake off the idea that it was a man, and was
speaking to me." The waterfall whispered distinctly in Huldbrand's
ear, "Rash youth, dashing youth, I chide thee not, I shame thee not;
still shield thy precious wife safe and sure, rash young soldier,
dashing Knight!"
A little further on they emerged into the open plains. The city lay
glittering before them, and the evening sun that gilded her towers,
lent its grateful warmth to dry their soaked garments.