ment at his host. Was the beautiful
maiden only another of the wonderful beings who had bewildered him in
the forest? Was she some lovely elf or sprite who had come but to vex
them with her pranks?

But as he looked at the old man standing by his side, and saw the
tears streaming from his eyes, he knew it was for no spirit of the
wood that he thus grieved.

'Alas,' sighed the fisherman, 'this is not the first time that the
maiden has treated us thus. It may be she will not return the
livelong night, and until she returns it is not possible that we
should close our eyes. For what terror may not seize upon her as she
wanders hither and thither in the darkness.'

'We must follow her, father, follow her without delay!' cried the
young knight.

'Nay,' answered the fisherman, 'my limbs are stiff. Though I knew
whither she had fled, I could never follow with speed enough to reach
her. Ever she would vanish as I drew near, for she is fleet, fleet as
an arrow from the bow.'

'If we may not follow her, at least let us call and entreat her to
return,' said the young knight, and without waiting for an answer he
called, 'Undine! Undine!'

But the old man shook his head. 'It is useless to call,' he said, 'the
little one will not heed your voice.' Yet still the knight's cry rang
out into the night, 'Undine, dear Undine, I pray you return!'

No answer came back from the darkness, and at length Huldbrand
returned with the fisherman to the cottage.

The old woman, who seemed little troubled by Undine's flight, had gone
to bed and the fire was wellnigh out. But the fisherman, drawing the
ashes together, placed wood on the top of them, and soon the fire
blazed brightly.

Then in the light of the flames they sat and talked, yet they thought
only of Undine. The window rattled. They raised their heads to listen.
The rain fell in heavy drops, pitter, patter. They thought it was the
tread of tiny feet.

'It is she, it is Undine!' they would cry, yet still the maiden did
not come. Then they shook their heads sadly, but as they went on
talking they listened still.

'It was fifteen years ago, on such a night of wind and rain, that she
came,' murmured the old man. 'Our home was sad and desolate, for we
had lost our own little child.'

'Ah,' said the knight, 'tell me how the beautiful maiden came to your
little cottage.'

Now this is the story the fisherman told to the knight.

'It is fifteen years ago,' began the old man, 'since