the deadliest spot on earth
to those who bear your name. Far as the wood extends on either side,
extended formerly the turf-pit. The deep moor is covered now by an
unsteady earth-crust, overgrown with pale red sedge, and from its
centre, as from a grotto, the beautiful rivulet ripples forth that
irrigates and renders fruitful all your land. I doubt not that this
grotto, with its golden vault of granite, is the very spring into
which the furious Wittehold cast his daughter. The place is to this
hour deemed unholy. No one willingly sets foot there; no man ventures
to draw water from the fount. Temerity has already been punished for
the attempt. Strange sights have met the eyes of the daring one, and
he has fled like a coward from the spot. Have not many seen--have not
I myself beheld that fairy-like, almost transparent form, with her
unearthly pitcher, drawing water from the spring, then pouring it over
the moor in curious arches by sun and moonlight; and ever so, that the
rays of light kindled therein the most huey gleamings? Is it not well
attested, that when at such times mortals have addressed her, the
delicate creature has grown o' the sudden pale--paler and more
transparent, until, melting into silvery cloud, she has glided
pillar-like along the moor, and vanished at length into the cool and
wondrous grotto?'

"'You describe the Maiden of the Moor,' said Bolko, interrupting him.

"'So she is called!' returned Hubert. 'It was her apparition which
drew my attention to the neighbourhood, and to the tales that are
current respecting it. When I had discovered the manuscript, I saw at
once in the Maiden of the Moor the complaining spirit of the unhappy
Auriola.'

"'And the spirit, as you deem, may be appeased?'

"'Assuredly, my son; and thou art he who must perform the expiation.'

"'I!--Father Hubert?--I'----

"'Thou art guileless, sound of heart, leading a life of innocence and
nature. To a pure spirit, a determined will, a feeling heart--much is
possible.'

"'But how, father?--how?'

"Hubert remained silent for a few minutes. He then proceeded--

"'Thy heart is still free, but it yearns for love--for the mysterious,
magical response of another--a _womanly_, heart. It may be that
Auriola will afford thee thy delight, if thou couldst once behold
her.'

"'What! The Moor Maiden! Father, thou mockest me. What can this female
be to me, appearing as a vision to man, a creature of air?'

"'And if she appear to