Part 3 (1/2)
THE WATER SPIRIT.
About the middle of the sixteenth century, when Zundorf was no larger than it is at present, there lived at the end of the village, hard by the church, one of that useful cla.s.s of women termed midwives. She was an honest, industrious creature, and what with ushering the new-born into life, and then a.s.sisting in making garments for them, she contrived to creep through the world in comfort, if not in complete happiness.
The summer had been one of unusual drought, and the winter, of a necessity, one of uncommon scarcity, so that when the spring arrived the good woman had less to do than at any period in the preceding seven years. In fact she was totally unemployed. As she mused one night, lying abed, on the matter, she was startled by a sharp, quick knock at the door of her cottage. She hesitated for a moment to answer the call, but the knocking was repeated with more violence than before. This caused her to spring out of bed without more delay, and hasten to ascertain the wish of her impatient visitor. She opened the door in the twinkling of an eye, and a man, tall of stature, enveloped in a large dark cloak, stood before her.
”My wife is in need of thee,” he said to her abruptly; ”her time is come. Follow me.”
”Nay, but the night is dark, sir,” replied she. ”Whither do you desire me to follow?”
”Close at hand,” he answered, as abruptly as before. ”Be ye quick and follow me.”
”I will but light my lamp and place it in the lantern,” said the woman. ”It will not cost me more than a moment's delay.”
”It needs not, it needs not,” repeated the stranger; ”the spot is close by. I know every foot of ground. Follow, follow!”
There was something so imperative, and at the same time so irresistible, in the manner of the man that she said not another word, but drawing her warm cloak about her head followed him at once. Ere she was aware of the course he had taken, so dark was the night, and so wrapt up was she in the cloak and in her meditations, she found herself on the bank of the Rhine, just opposite to the low fertile islet which bears the same name as the village, and lies at a little distance from the sh.o.r.e.
”How is this, good sir?” she exclaimed, in a tone of surprise and alarm. ”You have missed the way--you have left your road. Here is no further path.”
”Silence, and follow,” were the only words he spoke in reply; but they were uttered in such a manner as to show her at once that her best course was obedience.
They were now at the edge of the mighty stream; the rus.h.i.+ng waters washed their feet. The poor woman would fain have drawn back, but she could not, such was the preternatural power exercised over her by her companion.
”Fear not; follow!” he spoke again, in a kinder tone, as the current kissed the hem of her garments.
He took the lead of her. The waters opened to receive him. A wall of crystal seemed built up on either side of the vista. He plunged into its depths; she followed. The wild wave gurgled over them, and they were walking over the s.h.i.+ny pebbles and glittering sands which strewed the bed of the river.
And now a change came over her indeed. She had left all on earth in the thick darkness of a starless spring night, yet all around her was lighted up like a mellow harvest eve, when the sun s.h.i.+nes refulgent through ma.s.ses of golden clouds on the smiling pastures and emerald meadows of the west. She looked up, but she could see no cause for this illumination. She looked down, and her search was equally unsuccessful. She seemed to herself to traverse a great hall of surpa.s.sing transparency, lighted up by a light resembling that given out by a huge globe of ground gla.s.s. Her conductor still preceded her. They approached a little door. The chamber within it contained the object of their solicitude. On a couch of mother-of-pearl, surrounded by sleeping fishes and drowsy syrens, who could evidently afford her no a.s.sistance, lay the sick lady.
”Here is my wife,” spake the stranger, as they entered this chamber.
”Take her in hand at once, and hark ye, mother, heed that she has no injury through thee, or----”
With these words he waved his hand, and, preceded by the obedient inhabitants of the river, who had until then occupied the chamber, left the apartment.
The midwife approached her patient with fear and trembling; she knew not what to antic.i.p.ate. What was her surprise to perceive that the stranger was like any other lady. The business in hand was soon finished, and midwife and patient began to talk together, as women will when an opportunity is afforded them.
”It surprises me much,” quoth the former, ”to see such a handsome young lady as you are buried down here in the bottom of the river. Do you never visit the land? What a loss it is to you!”
”Hush, hus.h.!.+” interposed the Triton's lady, placing her forefinger significantly on her lips; ”you peril your life by talking thus without guard. Go to the door; look out, that you may see if there be any listeners, then I will tell something to surprise you.”
The midwife did as she was directed. There was no living being within earshot.
”Now, listen,” said the lady.
The midwife was all ear.
”I am a woman; a Christian woman like yourself,” she continued, ”though I am here now in the home of my husband, who is the spirit of these mighty waters.”
”G.o.d be praised!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed her auditor.