Part 29 (2/2)
Heidelberg is known all over the world as one of Germany?s great university towns, as the site of an unrivalled if ruined schloss, and of a view at the junction of the Rhine with the Neckar which is one of the most famous in the world. It lies between lofty hills covered with vineyards and forests, flanked by handsome villas and gardens, and is crowned by its castle, which has suffered equally from siege and the elements, being partially blown up by the French in 1609, and struck by lightning in 1704.
The Wolf?s Spring
The name of Jette, a beautiful prophetess of the ancient G.o.ddess Herthe, is linked with the neighbourhood of Heidelberg by the following tragic tale.
When the old heathen G.o.ds and G.o.ddesses were still wors.h.i.+pped in the Rhine country, a certain priestess of Herthe took up her abode in an ancient grove, where she practised her occult arts so successfully that the fame of her divinations spread far and wide, and men came from all parts of Europe to learn from her what the future had in store for them.
Frequently a warrior left her abode with a consuming fire kindled in his breast which would rob him of sleep for many a long night, yet none dared to declare his love to her, for, lovely though she was, there was an air of austerity, an atmosphere of mysticism about her which commanded awe and reverence, and forbade even the smallest familiarity.
One evening there came to the grove of Herthe a youth from a far distant land, seeking to know his destiny. All day he had journeyed thitherward, and the dusk had already fallen ere he reached the sacred spot. Jette sat on the glimmering altar-steps, clad in a flowing white robe, while on the altar itself burned a faint and fitful flame. The tall, slender trees, showing fantastic and ghostly in the fading light, made a fitting background for the gleaming shrine; and the elusive, unearthly beauty of the priestess was quite in keeping with the magic scene. Her mantle of austerity had fallen from her; she had forgotten that she was a prophetess; for the moment she was but a woman, full of grace and charm.
The youth paused as though held by a spell.
?Fair prophetess,? he said in a low voice, fearing to break in rudely upon her meditations, ?wilt thou read me my fate??
Jette, roused from her reverie, fixed her startled gaze on the handsome stranger, whose dark, burning eyes met hers in deepest admiration.
Something stirred in her heart at the ardent glance, the thrilling tones, and her wonted composure deserted her.
?Youth,? she faltered at length, ?thou comest at a time when my prophetic skill hath failed me. Ere I tell thee thy fate I must offer sacrifice to Herthe. If thou wilt come to-morrow at this hour I will tell thee what the stars say concerning thy destiny.?
It was true that her skill had deserted her under the admiring scrutiny of the young warrior, yet she delayed also because she wished to hear his voice again, to meet the ardent yet courteous glance of his dark eyes.
?I will return, O prophetess,? said he, and with that he was gone.
Jette?s peace of mind had gone too, it seemed, for she could think of naught but the handsome stranger.
On the following evening he returned, and again she delayed to give him the information he sought. He was no less rejoiced than was Jette at the prospect of another meeting.
On the third day the priestess greeted him with downcast eyes.
?I cannot read thy destiny, youth,? she said; ?the stars do not speak plainly. Yet methinks thy star and mine are very close together.? She faltered and paused.
?Dost thou love me, Jette?? cried the young man joyfully. ?Wilt thou be my bride??
The maiden?s blus.h.i.+ng cheeks and downcast glance were sufficient answer.
?And wilt thou come with me to my tower?? pursued the youth eagerly.
Jette started back in affright.
?Nay, that I cannot,? she cried. ?A priestess of Herthe is doomed an she marry. If I wed thee we must meet in secret and at night.?
?But I will take thee to Walhalla, and Freya shall appease Herthe with her offerings.?
Jette shook her head.
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