ows of the peasant's house where the young
folk were assembled, were wide open; the air was laden with the scent of
the white lilies and roses that grew in the garden at the back of the
cottage. There was no light as yet but that of the moon in the parlour;
the spinning-wheels too were silent; for stories were being told; one
more marvellous than the other, of ghosts and goblins, of dwarfs and
mountain-spirits, and naturally enough awful tales of the neighbouring
nixy King, and of his three daughters who lived in the enchanted lake.

Hermann, the young man who had been overtaken by the thunderstorm, was
present this evening; he was silent and glum, though the most charming
village maidens chaffed him and tried to captivate him, and the peasant
girls in this part of Germany are renowned for their beauty and their
grace. The melancholy which was not so much part of his natural
disposition as due to the adventures of that evening, fell on him again
like a dark cloud oppressing his brain. The girls who had been listening
to the stories, were by this time worked up to a state of feeling which
can only be described by the words creepy, or eerie. Most of them
experienced that unaccountable sensation which Germans call Gaensehaut
(goose-flesh). So that a sudden knock at the door caused them to cry out
in fear and clutch hold of their sweethearts. The knock was repeated
three times before anyone summoned up courage to open the door. Then the
assembled company fell back in astonishment as three beautiful young
girls entered the room, each holding a spinning-wheel under her arm.
They walked erect like princesses, everyone was sure they must be of
high rank. They wore dresses of some shimmering material such as the
village folk had never seen before, and necklaces of pearls, silken hose
and silver shoes.

Hermann's heart beat to bursting as he beheld them: where had he seen
them before? Surely they were the nixies of the magic pool, and his doom
had fallen upon him. Never, never, had he been able to forget Lenore's
eyes. Their mournful beauty haunted his dreams. He met them now, as his
breath came and went in great gasps; and there was a flash of
recognition between them. "What heavenly beauty, what a noble air she
has," he thought, hardly regarding her sisters who were strictly
speaking far more beautiful.

The three nixies, for of course it was they, put forth all their
fascinating arts to ingratiate themselves with the young p