haviour. Nay more, what was beyond their expectation, they reached
their comfortable hearth unwet, with their prize secured; but the cask
had hardly been broached, and proved to contain wine of a remarkably
fine flavour, when the rain first poured down unrestrained from the
black cloud, the tempest raved through the tops of the trees, and swept
far over the billows of the deep.

Having immediately filled several bottles from the cask, which promised
them a supply for a long time, they drew round the glowing hearth; and,
comfortably secured from the tempest, they sat tasting the flavour of
their wine and bandying jests.

But the old fisherman suddenly became extremely grave, and said: "Ah,
great God! here we sit, rejoicing over this rich gift, while he to
whom it first belonged, and from whom it was wrested by the fury of the
stream, must there also, it is more than probable, have lost his life."

"No such thing," said Undine, smiling, as she filled the knight's cup to
the brim.

But he exclaimed: "By my unsullied honour, old father, if I knew where
to find and rescue him, no fear of exposure to the night, nor any peril,
should deter me from making the attempt. At least, I can promise you
that if I again reach an inhabited country, I will find out the owner of
this wine or his heirs, and make double and triple reimbursement."

The old man was gratified with this assurance; he gave the knight a nod
of approbation, and now drained his cup with an easier conscience and
more relish.

Undine, however, said to Huldbrand: "As to the repayment and your gold,
you may do whatever you like. But what you said about your venturing
out, and searching, and exposing yourself to danger, appears to me far
from wise. I should cry my very eyes out, should you perish in such a
wild attempt; and is it not true that you would prefer staying here with
me and the good wine?"

"Most assuredly," answered Huldbrand, smiling.

"Then, you see," replied Undine, "you spoke unwisely. For charity begins
at home; and why need we trouble ourselves about our neighbours?"

The mistress of the house turned away from her, sighing and shaking
her head; while the fisherman forgot his wonted indulgence toward the
graceful maiden, and thus rebuked her:

"That sounds exactly as if you had been brought up by heathens and
Turks;" and he finished his reproof by adding, "May God forgive both me
and you--unfeeling child!"

"Well, say what you will, that is