le, and was soon a constant
guest there. He confessed his love to Emma, and she did not rebuke
him. Her father was less tender. He roundly refused his daughter's
hand. 'He had no desire,' he said, 'to make his child unhappy. He knew
well enough how every Lord of Gottmar was obliged to harbour an evil
Kobold in his house, who couldn't endure the sight of women, and no
sooner met one than he mercilessly strangled her. No, sir baron,' he
continued, 'it cannot be. Take not unkindly the answer which I give
thee. It touches not thy noble person, which pleases me right well,
but simply thy house and castle Kobold. Remove the creature, or at
least its power of doing harm, and thou art welcome here. But before
that time, I pray thee come not again, lest I should forget myself,
and do that which both of us would be sorry for.'

"The lovers protested against the decision, and Bolko tried hard to
convince the old baron that the mysterious power which had so long and
so fatally reigned over the house of Gottmar, was propitiated, and no
longer hurtful. Hubert attested the repeated asseverations of his
pupil, but nothing could bring conviction to the stubborn veteran. He
swore they were all in a league, or building castles in the air, and
he persisted in his resolution.

"It was autumn. The days were declining. Showers and tempests swept
through the forest. Upon a night, brightened by no moonbeam or
glittering star, Emma sat melancholy and alone in her apartment. The
heavy embroidered curtains were drawn across the high windows of the
balcony, which jutted out as a point of observation from the
castle-wall. At intervals, the maiden applied her delicate ear to the
window, catching eagerly at every strange sound muttered forth by the
growing storm. She had resumed her seat many times, when the
castle-bell tolled eleven, and almost at the same moment the cry of a
screech-owl was distinctly heard. The expectant damsel glided on
tiptoe to the window, and listened eagerly. The cry was repeated.
Emma's eye sparkled at length with joy, a deep blush overspread her
cheeks, and she produced from an aperture a ladder of twine, which she
fastened to the casement. The cry of the owl was heard for the third
time. The ladder was dropped, and in another instant a vigorous youth
had mounted it.

"Bolko and Emma, happy and blessed, were in each other's arms, and
they forgot all but the delicious present. Vows of love and constancy
were exchanged, an