hat has gone astray; and the mayor will
tell them of the wolves that come in the winter. The good knights are
always glad to help," he said.

Little Maid Hildegarde knew all about the knights. Her father was
never tired of telling, or she of hearing, how they fought and killed
the fierce dragon that had troubled the people of the border; and put
out the forest fires in the time of the great drought and fed the
hungry when the famine was in the land. And yet with all of their
great deeds they were merry men, not too proud to sing at a feast or
play with a child.

And many an evening, though Hildegarde was growing to be a great girl,
her mother sat by her bed to sing a song that she had sung to her when
she was a babe in the cradle:

"Hush, my baby, do not cry,
Five brave knights go riding by.
One is dressed in bonny blue;
He's the leader, strong and true.
One is clad from head to toe
In an armor white as snow.

"One in crimson bright is drest,
With a star upon his breast.
One in gold and one in green,
Cloth of gold and satin sheen.
Hush, my baby, do not cry,
Five brave knights go riding by."

Oh, how Hildegarde had longed to see those splendid riders! And now at
last she was to have her heart's desire. It seemed almost too good to
be true.

"Shall we start to town as soon as the new day comes?" she asked.

"Just as soon as the cows are taken to the pasture, and the little
chicks are fed," said her mother; and the little maid went to bed well
satisfied.

But alas, for Hildegarde and her hopes! The morning sun had scarcely
shone when her mother awoke with a terrible pain in her head, and her
father slipped on his way to the barn and sprained his foot so he
could not walk. And there was no one to take the child to the Church
Square. No, not even a neighbor, for Hildegarde and her mother and
father lived apart from every one else, and the wood that is called
Enchanted lay between them and the town.

There was no help for it. Hildegarde knew herself, without a word from
any one, that she could not go; but as she ran about the house to wait
on them, she heard her mother and father talking.

"It is not for the pain in my face that I grieve," said the good
mother; "but for the disappointment of our little maid."

"Aye," said the father, "I would bear my hurt, and more too,
willingly, if only she might see the gallant knights."

And when Hildegarde heard what th