on
him, and walked by her side to guide her carefully through the
dangerous shades. But Kuehleborn's mad pranks had driven the horse
quite wild. Hardly could the Knight himself have sprung upon the
terrified plunging creature's back: to place the trembling Bertalda
upon him was quite impossible; so they made up their minds to walk
home. With his horse's bridle over one arm, Huldbrand supported his
half-fainting companion on the other. Bertalda mustered what strength
she could, in order the sooner to get beyond this dreaded valley, but
fatigue weighed her down like lead, and every limb shook under her;
partly from the recollection of all she had already suffered from
Kuehleborn's spite, and partly from terror at the continued crashing of
the tempest through the mountain forests.

At length she slid down from her protector's arm, and sinking on the
moss, she said: "Leave me to die here, noble Huldbrand; I reap the
punishment of my folly, and must sink under this load of fatigue and
anguish."--"Never, my precious friend, never will I forsake you,"
cried Huldbrand, vainly striving to curb his raging steed, who was now
beginning to start and plunge worse than ever: the Knight contrived to
keep him at some distance from the exhausted maiden, so as to save her
the terror of seeing him near her. But no sooner had he withdrawn
himself and the wild animal a few steps, than she began to call him
back in the most piteous manner, thinking he was indeed going to
desert her in this horrible wilderness. He was quite at a loss what to
do: gladly would he have let the horse gallop away in the darkness and
expend his wild fury, but that he feared he might rush down upon the
very spot where Bertalda lay.

In this extremity of distress, it gave him unspeakable comfort to
descry a wagon slowly descending the stony road behind him. He called
out for help: a man's voice replied telling him to have patience, but
promising to come to his aid; soon two white horses became visible
through the thicket, and next the white smock-frock of the wagoner,
and a large sheet of white linen that covered his goods inside. "Ho,
stop!" cried the man, and the obedient horses stood still. "I see well
enough," said he, "what ails the beast. When first I came through
these parts my horses were just as troublesome; because there is a
wicked water-sprite living hard by, who takes delight in making them
play tricks. But I know a charm for this; if you will give me l