eived him, he was
just saying "And so, venerable sir. I have now dwelt for many years
here in the forest, and yet no one could call me a hermit, in your
sense of the word. For, as I said, I know nothing of penance, and I
do not think I have any especial need of it. I lose the forest only
for this reason, that its beauty is quite peculiar to itself, and it
amuses me to pass along in my flowing white garments among the eases
and dusky shadows, while now and then a sweet sunbeam shines down
unexpectedly upon me."

"You are a very strange man," replied the priest, "and I should like
to be more closely acquainted with you."

"And to pass from one thing to another, who may you be yourself?"
asked the stranger.

"I am called Father Heilmann," said the holy man; "and I come from
the monastery of 'our Lady' which lies on the other side of the
lake."

"Indeed," replied the stranger; "my name is Kuhleborn, and so far as
courtesy is concerned I might claim the title of Lord of Kuhleborn,
or free Lord of Kuhleborn; for I am as free as the birds in the
forest and perhaps a little more so. For example, I have now
something to say to the young lady there." And before they were
aware of his intention, he was at the other side of the priest,
close beside Undine, stretching himself up to whisper something in
her ear.

But she turned from him with alarm, and exclaimed: "I have nothing
more to do with you."

"Ho, ho," laughed the stranger, "what is this immensely grand
marriage you have made, that you don't know your own relations any
longer? Have you forgotten your uncle Kuhleborn, who so faithfully
bore you on his back through this region?"

"I beg you, nevertheless," replied Undine, "not to appear in my
presence again. I am now afraid of you; and suppose my husband
should learn to avoid me when he sees me in such strange company and
with such relations!"

"My little niece," said Kuhleborn, "you must not forget that I am
with you here as a guide; the spirits of earth that haunt this place
might otherwise play some of their stupid pranks with you. Let me
therefore go quietly on with you; the old priest there remembered me
better than you appear to have done, for he assured me just now that
I seemed familiar to him, and that I must have been with him in the
boat, out of which he fell into the water. I was so, truly enough;
for I was the water-spout that carried him out of it and washed him
safely ashore for your wedding."

Un