isappearance
was like both and neither. Soon, however, she was completely lost
sight of in the Danube; only a few little waves kept whispering, as
if sobbing, round the boat, and they almost seemed to be saying: "Oh
woe, woe! oh remain true! oh woe!"

Huldbrand lay on the deck of the vessel, bathed in hot tears, and a
deep swoon soon cast its veil of forgetfulness over the unhappy man.

CHAPTER XVI.

HOW IT FARED FURTHER WITH HULDBRAND.

Shall we say it is well or ill, that our sorrow is of such short
duration? I mean that deep sorrow which affects the very well-spring
of our life, which becomes so one with the lost objects of our love
that they are no longer lost, and which enshrines their image as a
sacred treasure, until that final goal is reached which they have
reached before us! It is true that many men really maintain these
sacred memories, but their feeling is no longer that of the first
deep grief. Other and new images have thronged between; we learn at
length the transitoriness of all earthly things, even to our grief,
and, therefore. I must say "Alas, that our sorrow should be of such
short duration?"

The lord of Ringstetten experienced this whether for his good, we
shall hear in the sequel to this history. At first he could do
nothing but weep, and that as bitterly as the poor gentle Undine had
wept when he had torn from her hand that brilliant ornament with
which she had wished to set everything to rights. And then he would
stretch out his hand, as she had done, and would weep again, like
her. He cherished the secret hope that he might at length dissolve
in tears; and has not a similar hope passed before the mind of many
a one of us, with painful pleasure, in moments of great affliction?
Bertalda wept also, and they lived a long while quietly together at
Castle Ringstetten, cherishing Undine's memory, and almost wholly
forgetful of their former attachment to each other. And, therefore,
the good Undine often visited Huldbrand in his dreams; caressing him
tenderly and kindly, and then going away, weeping silently, so that
when he awoke he often scarcely knew why his cheeks were so wet;
whether they had been bathed with her tears, or merely with his own?

These dream-visions became, however, less frequent as time passed
on, and the grief of the knight was less acute; still he would
probably have cherished no other wish than thus to think calmly of
Undine and to talk of her, had not the old fis