ore Bertalda; so much so, that
she had already several times been made ill with terror, and had
frequently thought of quitting the castle. But still she stayed
there, partly because Huldbrand was so dear to her, and she relied
on her innocence, no words of love having ever passed between them,
and partly also because she knew not whither to direct her steps.
The old fisherman, on receiving the message from the lord of
Ringstetten that Bertalda was his guest, had written a few lines in
an almost illegible hand, but as good as his advanced age and long
dis-would admit of.

"I have now become," he wrote, "a poor old widower, for my dear and
faithful wife is dead. However lonely I now sit in my cottage,
Bertalda is better with you than with me. Only let her do nothing to
harm my beloved Undine! She will have my curse if it be so." The
last words of this letter, Bertalda flung to the winds, but she
carefully retained the part respecting her absence from her
father--just as we are all wont to do in similar circumstances.

One day, when Huldbrand had just ridden out, Undine summoned
together the domestics of the family, and ordered them to bring a
large stone, and carefully to cover with it the magnificent fountain
which stood in the middle of the castle-yard. The servants objected
that it would oblige them to bring water from the valley below.
Undine smiled sadly. "I am sorry, my people," she replied, "to
increase your work. I would rather myself fetch up the pitchers, but
this fountain must be closed. Believe me that it cannot be
otherwise, and that it is only by so doing that we can avoid a
greater evil."

The whole household were glad to be able to please their gentle
mistress; they made no further inquiry, but seized the enormous
stone. They were just raising it in their hands, and were already
poising it over the fountain, when Bertalda came running up, and
called out to them to stop, as it was from this fountain that the
water was brought which was so good for her complexion, and she
would never consent to its being closed. Undine, however, although
gentle as usual, was more than usually firm. She told Bertalda that
it was her due, as mistress of the house, to arrange her household
as she thought best, and that, in this, she was accountable to no
one but her lord and husband. "See, oh, pray see," exclaimed
Bertalda, in an angry, yet uneasy tone, "how the poor beautiful
water is curling and writhing at being shut ou