CASTLE RINGSTETTEN
Now as the days passed, a change crept over those who dwelt in the
castle.
Huldbrand saw that Bertalda seemed to shrink away from his beautiful
wife. And when at length he asked her the reason that she no longer
loved Undine so well as she had been used to do, she told him that she
now knew from whence his wife had come. 'And for the spirit world,'
said Bertalda, 'I do not care, for I know it not. It and those who
have dwelt there fill me with fear and dread.'
Little by little the knight himself began to look at his wife with
less loving eyes, little by little he began to shun her presence.
Then Undine, seeing that her husband's love grew less, wept, and the
knight, seeing her tears, would speak kindly to her, yet even as he
spoke he would leave her side to walk with Bertalda.
She, Bertalda, meanwhile grew once more rude and proud, nor could
Undine's patience win her to behave more wisely.
Then in the long dark passages of the old castle, spectres began to
appear to Huldbrand and Bertalda, and worse than any was the tall form
of Kühleborn, or the Master of the fountain, as the maiden still
called him.
Now one day, when Huldbrand had ridden to the hunt, Undine gathered
all her servants together in the court of the castle and bade them
bring a big stone to cover up the fountain which stood in the middle
of the square.
The servants, who loved their mistress, hastened to obey her commands.
A huge stone was carried into the court, and was just about to be
placed on the fountain when Bertalda came hurriedly to the spot.
'The fountain must not be closed,' she cried haughtily, 'for it is
from it that water is drawn for my daily bath.'
But Undine, who on other days had often given way to the wishes of
Bertalda, was to-day determined that her will should be done.
'It is I who am mistress of the castle in the absence of my lord,' she
said, and her voice was firm though it was kind, 'and the fountain
shall be closed as I have commanded.'
'But look,' cried Bertalda angrily, 'the water itself bubbles and
heaves as though disturbed at the thought of being shut out from the
glad sunshine.'
The water was indeed, as the maiden said, fretting against the stones
and throwing out sudden jets as though in a violent passion.
The more excited grew the water, however, the more determined grew
Undine to have her order fulfilled, and that without delay.
As for the servants, they had no wish to please the haughty Bertalda,
they were even glad to disobey her when that might be.
Accordingly they no longer delayed to do the will of their gentle
mistress, and the stone was soon placed securely over the opening of
the fountain. Undine then bent over it and silently wrote on the top
of the stone some strange letters.
That evening, when Huldbrand came home, Bertalda met him with tears in
her eyes, and complained to him of his wife's strange conduct.
'Tell me why you have ordered that the fountain should be sealed,'
said the knight, turning sullenly to his wife. 'It was a strange
deed.'
'I will tell you the reason when we are alone,' said Undine. 'It was
a grave one indeed.'
'It matters not if Bertalda should hear,' said the knight, and he did
not hide the impatience that he felt.
'I will tell you in her presence if you so desire,' said Undine, 'but
I beseech you, desire it not.'
As the knight looked into her pleading face and let her sweet voice
steal into his heart, he grew ashamed of himself. How could he ever be
unkind to so fair, so good a wife!
Thinking thus Huldbrand did not speak, but he drew Undine gently from
the room, that she might speak to him alone as she wished to do.
'Ah, now I can tell you,' said Undine, and she smiled in her content.
'You know that Kühleborn, my uncle, has begun to haunt the castle. I
send him away in my displeasure, yet again and again he returns. Now I
have shut the door by which he comes, and here he will disturb our
peace no more. It is true that the stone can easily be raised by
strong men, in spite of the letters which I wrote upon it. If you wish
to do as Bertalda demands, remove the stone, yet do I warn you that
Kühleborn may well harm the maiden, for against her he bears more
ill-will than he does against others.'
Once more, as Huldbrand listened to his wife, he was ashamed. So
gentle was she, so kind to the haughty maiden who but mocked at her
for all her love. Peerless indeed was the soul of his beautiful wife,
and once again love for her sprang up within his heart.
'The stone shall not be removed, nor shall anything that you order be
undone, my sweet Undine,' said the knight.
At these words, and yet more at the kindness of his voice, Undine
rejoiced. Then, seizing Huldbrand's hand, she begged him to grant her
one request.
'If at any time, in the days that are to come,' she said, 'you upbraid
me, promise that this you will never do while we are sailing or while
we are near to sea or lake or tiny rivulet. For should one of my race
hear you use harsh words toward me, then would they regain their
power, and snatch me away from you for ever. Then would I be forced to
dwell all the rest of my life in the crystal palace below the blue
sea. Nor could I ever come up to you unless, indeed, I was sent by my
kindred, when alas! only great sadness would befall us both. Promise
me, therefore, that when we are near water, you will remember what I
have now told you.'
Huldbrand promised, and hand in hand they went in search of Bertalda.
She meanwhile had called together some workmen, and as she saw the
knight and Undine drawing near, she gave her orders to the men in a
loud, discontented voice. 'The stone may now be removed. Hasten, see
that it be done immediately!'
But the knight was angry with the maiden for daring thus to give what
orders she pleased, and he shouted at once, so that the workmen might
hear, 'The stone shall stay where it is! It shall not be removed!'
And the men went away, well pleased that they need not undo what their
gentle mistress had ordered to be done.
Huldbrand then reproved Bertalda for her rude behaviour to his wife,
but she scarcely heard his words, as she turned away in anger and
hastened to her room.
Soon supper was placed on the table, but Huldbrand and Undine waited
in vain for Bertalda. At length they sent a servant to call her, but
the maid came back only to tell them that she was nowhere to be found.
In her room, however, a letter had been left addressed to the knight.
Huldbrand opened it hastily and read:--
'Forgive me, Sir Knight, that I have forgotten that I am only a poor
fisher-girl. I will go to my father's miserable cottage, where I
cannot well commit the same fault again. Fare you well, you and your
beautiful wife.'
'You must go without delay to seek her and bring her back,' said
Undine.
And Huldbrand did not need to be urged. Already he had ordered his
horse to be saddled that he might ride after the maiden.
In vain he asked the servants in what direction Bertalda had gone. No
one had seen her. It was only as the knight impatiently mounted his
steed, that a page ran up to him crying, 'The lady Bertalda rode
toward the Black Valley.'
Without a pause the knight darted off in the direction of the valley.
He did not hear his wife's voice crying after him, 'Huldbrand,
Huldbrand, go not there, not to the valley, Huldbrand, or, if go you
must, take me, I entreat of you.'
Then when Undine saw that her cry was unheard, she ordered her palfrey
to be saddled instantly, and mounting it, she rode forth alone to
follow the knight into the Black Valley.