o and fro amid the ruins, until she light upon the spot where the
stairway of the tower leads down into the treasure chamber. Slipping
down, she will then be able to take as much gold and jewels as she can
carry, and what she cannot herself carry the old king will bring after
her, so that she will be rich for the rest of her life. But she must
return by sunrise, and she must not once look behind her, nor speak a
single word, else not only will she fail, but she will perish miserably.
A princess who was accused of unchastity obtained her father's
permission to try this adventure, in order to prove the falsehood of the
charge against her. She safely gained the vault, which was illuminated
with a thousand lights. The king, a little grey old man, bestowed the
treasure upon her, and sent a number of servants laden with it to follow
her. All would have gone well, but unhappily when she had climbed a few
of the old steps she looked round to see if the servants were coming. At
once the king changed into a great black dog, that sprang upon her with
fiery throat and glowing eyes. She just had time to scream out when the
door slammed to, the steps sank, and she fell back into the vault in
darkness. She has sat there now for four hundred years, waiting until a
pure youth shall find his way down in the same manner on St. John's
night, shall bow to her thrice and silently kiss her. He may then take
her hand and lead her forth to be his bride; and he will inherit such
riches as a whole kingdom cannot buy.[172]

But goddesses do not always play so secondary a part. In a wood in
Pomerania stands a round, flat hill called the Castle Hill, and at its
foot lies a little lake known as the Hertha Lake. By its name it is thus
directly connected with one of the old divinities, like that lake on the
island of Ruegen referred to in Chapter IV. And here, too, a mysterious
lady has been seen to wash, a young and lovely maiden, clad in
black--not in secret, as in the former instance, but openly, as if for
the purpose of attracting attention from passers-by, and of being spoken
to. At last a broad-shouldered workman, named Kramp, ventured to give
the maiden "the time of day," and to get her into conversation. She told
him she was a princess, who, with her castle, had been from time
immemorial enchanted, and that she was still waiting for her deliverer.
The mode of loosing the spell was by carrying her on his back in silence
to the churchyard of Wusse