Folko could hardly drive away the fearful suspicion that the lonelyyoung knight was become a wicked magician.
And perhaps, indeed, evil spirits did flit about the banished Sintram,but it was without his calling them up. In his dreams he often saw thewicked enchantress Venus, in her golden chariot drawn by winged cats,pass over the battlements of the stone fortress, and heard her say,mocking him, "Foolish Sintram, foolish Sintram! hadst thou but obeyedthe little Master! Thou wouldst now be in Helen's arms, and the Rocks ofthe Moon would be called the Rocks of Love, and the stone fortress wouldbe the garden of roses. Thou wouldst have lost thy pale face and darkhair,--for thou art only enchanted, dear youth,--and thine eyes wouldhave beamed more softly, and thy cheeks bloomed more freshly, and thyhair would have been more golden than was that of Prince Paris when menwondered at his beauty. Oh, how Helen would have loved thee!" Then sheshowed him in a mirror, how, as a marvellously beautiful knight, heknelt before Gabrielle, who sank into his arms blushing as the morning.When he awoke from such dreams, he would seize eagerly the sword andscarf given him by his lady,--as a shipwrecked man seizes the plankwhich is to save him; and while the hot tears fell on them, he wouldmurmur to himself, "There was, indeed, one hour in my sad life when Iwas worthy and happy."
Once he sprang up at midnight after one of these dreams, but this timewith more thrilling horror; for it had seemed to him that the featuresof the enchantress Venus had changed towards the end of her speech, asshe looked down upon him with marvellous scorn, and she appeared to himas the hideous little Master. The youth had no better means of calminghis distracted mind than to throw the sword and scarf of Gabrielle overhis shoulders, and to hasten forth under the solemn starry canopy of thewintry sky. He walked in deep thought backwards and forwards under theleafless oaks and the snow-laden firs which grew on the high ramparts.
Then he heard a sorrowful cry of distress sound from the moat; it wasas if some one were attempting to sing, but was stopped by inward grief.Sintram exclaimed, "Who's there?" and all was still. When he was silent,and again began his walk, the frightful groanings and moanings wereheard afresh, as if they came from a dying person. Sintram overcame thehorror which seemed to hold him back, and began in silence to climb downinto the deep dry moat which was cut in the rock. He was soon so lowdown that he could no longer see the stars shining; beneath him moveda shrouded form; and sliding with involuntary haste down the steepdescent, he stood near the groaning figure; it ceased its lamentations,and began to laugh like a maniac from beneath its long, folded, femalegarments.
"Oh ho, my comrade! oh ho, my comrade! wert thou going a little toofast? Well, well, it is all right; and see now, thou standest no higherthan I, my pious, valiant youth! Take it patiently,--take it patiently!"
"What dost thou want with me? Why dost thou laugh? why dost thou weep?"asked Sintram impatiently.
"I might ask thee the same questions," answered the dark figure, "andthou wouldst be less able to answer me than I to answer thee. Why dostthou laugh? why dost thou weep?--Poor creature! But I will show thee aremarkable thing in thy fortress, of which thou knowest nothing. Giveheed!"
And the shrouded figure began to scratch and scrape at the stones tilla little iron door opened, and showed a long passage which led into thedeep darkness.
"Wilt thou come with me?" whispered the strange being; "it is theshortest way to thy father's castle. In half-an-hour we shall come outof this passage, and we shall be in thy beauteous lady's apartment. DukeMenelaus shall lie in a magic sleep,--leave that to me,--and then thouwilt take the slight, delicate form in thine arms, and bring her to theRocks of the Moon; so thou wilt win back all that seemed lost by thyformer wavering."
Sintram trembled visibly, fearfully shaken to and fro by the fever ofpassion and the stings of conscience. But at last, pressing the swordand scarf to his heart, he cried out, "Oh! that fairest, most glorioushour of my life! If I lose all other joys, I will hold fast thatbrightest hour!"
"A bright, glorious hour!" said the figure from under its veil, likean evil echo. "Dost thou know whom thou then conqueredst? A good oldfriend, who only showed himself so sturdy to give thee the glory ofovercoming him. Wilt thou convince thyself? Wilt thou look?"
The dark garments of the little figure flew open, and the dwarf warriorin strange armour, the gold horns on his helmet, and the curved spear inhis hand, the very same whom Sintram thought he had slain on Niflung'sHeath, now stood before him and laughed: "Thou seest, my youth,everything in the wide world is but dreams and froth; wherefore holdfast the dream which delights thee, and sip up the froth which refreshesthee! Hasten to that underground passage, it leads up to thy angelHelen. Or wouldst thou first know thy friend yet better?"
His visor opened, and the hateful face of the little Master glared uponthe knight. Sintram asked, as if in a dream, "Art thou also that wickedenchantress Venus?"
"Something like her," answered the little Master, laughing, "or rathershe is something like me. And if thou wilt only get disenchanted, andrecover the beauty of Prince of Paris,--then, O Prince Paris," and hisvoice changed to an alluring song, "then, O Prince Paris, I shall befair like thee!"
At this moment the good Rolf appeared above on the rampart; aconsecrated taper in his lantern shone down into the moat, as he soughtfor the missing young knight. "In God's name, Sir Sintram," he calledout, "what has the spectre of whom you slew on Niflung's Heath, and whomI never could bury, to do with you?"
"Seest thou well? hearest thou well?" whispered the little Master, anddrew back into the darkness of the underground passage. "The wise manup there knows me well. There was nothing in thy heroic feat. Come, takethe joys of life while thou mayst."
But Sintram sprang back, with a strong effort, into the circle of lightmade by the shining of the taper from above, and cried out, "Depart fromme, unquiet spirit! I know well that I bear a name on me in which thoucanst have no part."
Little Master rushed in fear and rage into the passage, and, yelling,shut the iron door behind him. It seemed as if he could still be heardgroaning and roaring.
Sintram climbed up the wall of the moat, and made a sign to hisfoster-father not to speak to him: he only said, "One of my best joys,yes, the very best, has been taken from me; but, by God's help, I am notyet lost."
In the earliest light of the following morning, he and Rolf stopped upthe entrance to the perilous passage with huge blocks of stone.
CHAPTER 24
The long northern winter was at last ended, the fresh green leavesrustled merrily in the woods, patches of soft moss twinkled amongst therocks, the valleys grew green, the brooks sparkled, the snow melted fromall but the highest mountain-tops, and the bark which was ready tocarry away Folko and Gabrielle danced on the sunny waves of the sea. Thebaron, now quite recovered, and strong and fresh as though his healthhad sustained no injury, stood one morning on the shore with his fairlady; and, full of glee at the prospect of returning to their home, thenoble pair looked on well pleased at their attendants who were busied inlading the ship.
Then said one of them in the midst of a confused sound of talking: "Butwhat has appeared to me the most fearful and the most strange thing inthis northern land is the stone fortress on the Rocks of the Moon: Ihave never, indeed, been inside it, but when I used to see it in ourhuntings, towering above the tall fir-trees, there came a tightnessover my breast, as if something unearthly were dwelling in it. And afew weeks ago, when the snow was yet lying hard in the valleys, I cameunawares quite close upon the strange building. The young knight Sintramwas walking alone on the ramparts as twilight came on, like the spiritof a departed knight, and he drew from the lute which he carried suchsoft, melancholy tones, and he sighed so deeply and sorrowfully...."
The voice of the speaker was drowned in the noise of the crowd, and ashe also just then reached the ship with his package hastily fastened up,Folko and Gabrielle could not hear the rest of his speech. But the fairlady looked on her knight with eyes dim with tears, and sighed: "Is itnot behind thos
e mountains that the Rocks of the Moon lie? The unhappySintram makes me sad at heart."
"I understand thee, sweet gracious lady, and the pure compassion of thyheart," replied Folko; instantly ordering his swift-footed steed to bebrought. He placed his noble lady under the charge of his retainers, andleaping into the saddle, he hastened, followed by the grateful smiles ofGabrielle, along the valley towards the stone fortress.
Sintram was seated near the drawbridge, touching the strings ofthe lute, and shedding some tears on the golden chords, almost asMontfaucon's esquire had described him. Suddenly a cloudy shadow passedover him, and he looked up, expecting to see a flight of cranes in theair; but the sky was clear and blue. While the young knight was stillwondering, a long bright spear fell at his feet from a battlement of thearmoury turret.
"Take it up,--make good use of it! thy foe is near at hand! Near alsois the downfall of thy dearest happiness." Thus he heard it distinctlywhispered in his ear; and it seemed to him that he saw the shadow of thelittle Master glide close by him to a neighbouring cleft in the rock.But at the same time also, a tall, gigantic, haggard figure passed alongthe valley, in some measure like the departed pilgrim, only much, verymuch, larger, and he raised his long bony arm fearfully threatening,then disappeared in an ancient tomb.
At the very same instant Sir Folko of Montfaucon came swiftly as thewind up the Rocks of the Moon, and he must have seen something of thosestrange apparitions, for as he stopped close behind Sintram, he lookedrather pale, and asked low and earnestly: "Sir knight, who are those twowith whom you were just now holding converse here?"
"The good God knows," answered Sintram; "I know them not."
"If the good God does but know!" cried Montfaucon: "but I fear me thatHe knows very little more of you or your deeds."
"You speak strangely harsh words," said Sintram. "Yet ever since thatevening of misery,--alas! and even long before,--I must bear with allthat comes from you. Dear sir, you may believe me, I know not thosefearful companions; I call them not, and I know not what terriblecurse binds them to my footsteps. The merciful God, as I would hope, ismindful of me the while,--as a faithful shepherd does not forget eventhe worst and most widely-straying of his flock, but calls after it withan anxious voice in the gloomy wilderness."
Then the anger of the baron was quite melted. Two bright tears stood inhis eyes, and he said: "No, assuredly, God has not forgotten thee; onlydo thou not forget thy gracious God. I did not come to rebuke thee--Icame to bless thee in Gabrielle's name and in my own. The Lord preservethee, the Lord guide thee, the Lord lift thee up! And, Sintram, on thefar-off shores of Normandy I shall bear thee in mind, and I shall hearhow thou strugglest against the curse which weighs down thy unhappylife; and if thou ever shake it off, and stand as a noble conquerorover Sin and Death, then thou shalt receive from me a token of loveand reward, more precious then either thou or I can understand at thismoment."
The words flowed prophetically from the baron's lips; he himself wasonly half-conscious of what he said. With a kind salutation he turnedhis noble steed, and again flew down the valley towards the sea-shore.
"Fool, fool! thrice a fool!" whispered the angry voice of the littleMaster in Sintram's ear. But old Rolf was singing his morning hymn inclear tones within the castle, and the last lines were these:--
"Whom worldlings scorn, Who lives forlorn, On God's own word doth rest; With heavenly light His path is bright, His lot among the blest."
Then a holy joy took possession of Sintram's heart, and he looked aroundhim yet more gladly than in the hour when Gabrielle gave him the scarfand sword, and Folko dubbed him knight.
CHAPTER 25
The baron and his lovely lady were sailing across the broad sea withfavouring gales of spring, nay the coast of Normandy had alreadyappeared above the waves; but still was Biorn of the Fiery Eye sittinggloomy and speechless in his castle. He had taken no leave of hisguests. There was more of proud fear of Montfaucon than of reverentiallove for him in his soul, especially since the adventure with the boar'shead; and the thought was bitter to his haughty spirit, that the greatbaron, the flower and glory of their whole race, should have come inpeace to visit him, and should now be departing in displeasure, in sternreproachful displeasure. He had it constantly before his mind, and itnever failed to bring fresh pangs, the remembrance of how all hadcome to pass, and how all might have gone otherwise; and he was alwaysfancying he could hear the songs in which after generations wouldrecount this voyage of the great Folko, and the worthlessness of thesavage Biorn. At length, full of fierce anger, he cast away thefetters of his troubled spirit, he burst out of the castle with all hishorsemen, and began to carry on a warfare more fearful and more lawlessthan any in which he had yet been engaged.
Sintram heard the sound of his father's war-horn; and committing thestone fortress to old Rolf, he sprang forth ready armed for the combat.But the flames of the cottages and farms on the mountains rose up beforehim, and showed him, written as if in characters of fire, what kind ofwar his father was waging. Yet he went on towards the spot where thearmy was mustered, but only to offer his mediation, affirming that hewould not lay his hand on his good sword in so abhorred a service, eventhough the stone fortress, and his father's castle besides, should fallbefore the vengeance of their enemies. Biorn hurled the spear whichhe held in his hand against his son with mad fury. The deadly weaponwhizzed past him: Sintram remained standing with his visor raised, hedid not move one limb in his defence, when he said: "Father, do what youwill; but I join not in your godless warfare."
Biorn of the Fiery Eyes laughed scornfully: "It seems I am always tohave a spy over me here; my son succeeds to the dainty French knight!"But nevertheless he came to himself, accepted Sintram's mediation,made amends for the injuries he had done, and returned gloomily to hiscastle. Sintram went back to the Rocks of the Moon.
Such occurrences were frequent after that time. It went so far thatSintram came to be looked upon as the protector of all those whom hisfather pursued with relentless fury; but nevertheless sometimes hisown wildness would carry the young knight away to accompany his fiercefather in his fearful deeds. Then Biorn used to laugh with horriblepleasure, and to say: "See there, my son, how the flames we have lightedblaze up from the villages, as the blood spouts up from the wounds ourswords have made! It is plain to me, however much thou mayst pretend tothe contrary, that thou art, and wilt ever remain, my true and belovedheir!"
After thus fearfully erring, Sintram could find no comfort but inhastening to the chaplain of Drontheim, and confessing to him his miseryand his sins. The chaplain would freely absolve him, after due penanceand repentance, and again raise up the broken-hearted youth; but wouldoften say: "Oh, how nearly hadst thou reached thy last trial, and gainedthe victory, and looked on Verena's countenance, and atoned for all! Nowthou hast thrown thyself back for years. Think, my son, on the shortnessof man's life; if thou art always falling back anew, how wilt thou evergain the summit on this side the grave?"
Years came and went, and Biorn's hair was white as snow, and the youthSintram had reached the middle age. Old Rolf was now scarcely able toleave the stone fortress; and sometimes he said: "I feel it a burdenthat my life should yet be prolonged; but also there is much comfort init, for I still think the good God has in store for me here below somegreat happiness; and it must be something in which you are concerned, mybeloved Sir Sintram, for what else in the whole world could rejoice me?"
But all remained as it was, and Sintram's fearful dreams atChristmas-time each year rather increased than diminished in horror.Again the holy season was drawing near, and the mind of the sorelyafflicted knight was more troubled than ever before. Sometimes, if hehad been reckoning up the nights till it should come, a cold sweatwould stand on his forehead, while he said, "Mark my words, dear oldfoster-father, this time something most awfully decisive lies beforeme."
One evening he felt an
overwhelming anxiety about his father. It seemedto him that the Prince of Darkness was going up to Biorn's castle; andin vain did Rolf remind him that the snow was lying deep in the valleys,in vain did he suggest that the knight might be overtaken by hisfrightful dreams in the lonely mountains during the night-time. "Nothingcan be worse to me than remaining here would be," replied Sintram.
He took his horse from the stable and rode forth in the gatheringdarkness. The noble steed slipped and stumbled and fell in the tracklessway, but his rider always raised him up, and urged him only more swiftlyand eagerly towards the object which he longed and yet dreaded to reach.Nevertheless he might never have arrived at it had not his faithfulhound Skovmark kept with him. The dog sought out the lost track for hisbeloved master, and invited him into it with joyous barkings, and warnedhim by his howls against precipices and treacherous ice under the snow.Thus they arrived about midnight at Biorn's castle. The windows of thehall shone opposite to them with a brilliant light, as though some greatfeast were kept there, and confused sounds, as of singing, mettheir ears. Sintram gave his horse hastily to some retainers inthe court-yard, and ran up the steps, whilst Skovmark stayed by thewell-known horse.
A good esquire came towards Sintram within the castle and said, "God bepraised, my dear master, that you are come; for surely nothing good isgoing on above. But take heed to yourself also, and be not deluded. Yourfather has a guest with him,--and, as I think--a hateful one."
Sintram shuddered as he threw open the doors. A little man in the dressof a miner was sitting with his back towards him. The armour had beenfor some time past again ranged round the stone table, so that only twoplaces were left empty. The seat opposite the door had been taken byBiorn of the Fiery Eyes; and the dazzling light of the torches fell uponhis features with so red a flare, that he perfectly enacted that fearfulsurname.