UNDINE IS FOUND
As Huldbrand rushed out into the night, followed by the fisherman, the
storm seemed to rage yet more fiercely. The old man was soon left far
behind in the search for the lost maiden.
The knight, battling bravely with the storm, hastened hither and
thither, but all his efforts were vain. Undine was nowhere to be
found.
And now, as the rain dashed down upon him and the wind hustled him,
Huldbrand grew bewildered. The storm seemed to have changed the
peaceful meadows into a weary wilderness, and even the maiden herself
seemed to flit before him as a phantom spirit of the wind.
Could it all have been but a dream? Had the cottage, the fisherman and
his wife been as unreal as the figures that had followed him in the
haunted forest? No, that he would not believe, for even yet in the
distance he could hear the faint echo of the fisherman's voice as he
called out pitifully, 'Undine! Undine!' Now in his search the knight
had reached the edge of the stream. The stream, as you know, had
already overflowed its bank, and as the moon suddenly shone through
the dark clouds, Huldbrand saw that the water was rushing back toward
the forest. In this way the little bit of meadow-land on which the
fisherman's cottage stood was turned into an island.
A terrible thought struck the knight. Had Undine strayed into the
fearful forest she could not now return to the cottage, save across
the raging stream, nay, she might even now be surrounded by the
spirits of the wood. She would be among them alone, helpless.
At once Huldbrand made up his mind to cross the torrent. He plunged
into the water, and even as he did so he seemed to see on the other
shore the figure of a tall white man, who nodded his head and mocked
him as he struggled on. Huldbrand knew the tall white figure only too
well. It was the one that had followed him as he journeyed through the
forest.
Now; in his haste to find Undine, the knight was leaping from stone to
stone, sometimes slipping into the water, then with a struggle
placing his feet once again upon the stones. These, tossed by the
rushing stream, gave no firm foothold to the knight, and he was forced
to seize the branch of a fir-tree to help him across the dangerous
passage.
While he was still in the midst of the current, he heard a sweet voice
crying, 'Trust not the stream, trust it not, for it is full of craft!'
The knight knew the voice. It was that of the maiden for whom he
sought. Yet though he peered eagerly through the gloom he could see no
trace of her.
'See! you can find me now, Sir Knight, for the moon is shining clear,'
cried the voice he longed to hear, and looking around him Huldbrand
saw where Undine had found a shelter. It was on a little island,
beneath the branches of a great tree, that the maiden sat. There was
no terror of the storm in her eyes. She was even smiling happily as
she nestled amid the sweet scented grass, safe from the fury of the
storm.
A few quick strides and the knight had crossed the stream and stood by
the side of the maiden. She bade him sit down on the grass, and then,
whispering low, she said, 'You shall tell me your story here, Sir
Knight, on this quiet island here, where no cross old people will
disturb us, and where we are sheltered from the storm that rages
beyond.'
[Illustration: Amid the sweet-scented grass, safe from the fury of the
storm]
Then Huldbrand forgot all about the old man who was still seeking for
his child, forgot too all about the old woman who was alone in the
little cottage by the lake, and he sat down to tell his tale as the
maiden wished.
Meanwhile the fisherman had reached the brink of the stream, and great
was his surprise to see the knight seated by the side of his lost
child.
'You have found her, you have found my little one!' he cried
reproachfully. 'Why did you not hasten to tell me she was found, Sir
Knight?'
Then Huldbrand was ashamed, though, as he told the old man, it was but
a little while since his search had ceased.
'Bring her without more delay to the mainland!' shouted the fisherman,
when he had listened to the sorry excuse which was all the knight
could offer.
But Undine had no wish to go home. She would rather stay with the
knight in the forest than go back to the cottage, for there, so she
said, no one would do as she wished.
Then, flinging her arms around the knight, she clung to him and
begged him to stay with her in the forest.
The old fisherman wept as he heard her words, yet Undine did not seem
to notice his tears. But the knight could not help seeing the old
man's grief, and he was troubled.
'Undine,' he cried, 'the tears of your foster-father have touched my
heart. We will return to him.'
The blue eyes of the maiden opened wide with surprise, yet she
answered gently, 'Sir Knight, if this is indeed your will, we shall
return to the mainland. There you must make the old man promise to
listen in silence to all that you saw as you journeyed through the
forest.'
'Only come, and you shall do all that you wish!' cried the fisherman,
and he stretched out his arms and nodded his head, to show to the
maiden how glad he was that she should do as she wished. But the
knight shuddered as his eyes fell upon the fisherman. The nodding
head, the white hair reminded him once again of the tall white man of
the forest.
Shaking off his fears he lifted Undine in his arms and bore her across
the stream. Already the storm was wellnigh over and the waters flowed
more quietly. It now seemed to the knight only a few steps from the
grassy plot where he had found the maiden to the green meadows among
which the cottage stood.
'Now will I hear the brave knight's story,' cried the maiden, and the
old people smiled and said they too would hear the tale.
And the sun rose slowly over the lake and the birds sang merrily on
the wet and leafy trees, as the knight began his tale.