Part 3 (2/2)

”My father was the lord of the hamlet of Rheidt, a little above Lulsdorf, and I lived there in peace and happiness during my girlish days. I had nothing to desire, as every wish was gratified by him as soon as it was formed. However, as I grew to womanhood I felt that my happiness had departed. I knew not whither it had gone, or why, but gone it was. I felt restless, melancholy, wretched. I wanted, in short, something to love, but that I found out since. Well, one day a merry-making took place in the village, and every one was present at it. We danced on the green sward which stretches to the margin of the river; for that day I forgot my secret grief, and was among the gayest of the gay. They made me the queen of the feast, and I had the homage of all. As the sun was going down in glory in the far west, melting the ma.s.ses of clouds into liquid gold, a stranger of a n.o.ble mien appeared in the midst of our merry circle. He was garbed in green from head to heel, and seemed to have crossed the river, for the hem of his rich riding-cloak was dripping with wet. No one knew him, no one cared to inquire who he was, and his presence rather awed than rejoiced us.

He was, however, a stranger, and he was welcome. When I tell you that stranger is my husband, you may imagine the rest. When the dance then on foot was ended, he asked my hand. I could not refuse it if I would, but I would not if I could. He was irresistible. We danced and danced until the earth seemed to reel around us. I could perceive, however, even in the whirl of tumultuous delight which forced me onward, that we neared the water's edge in every successive figure. We stood at length on the verge of the stream. The current caught my dress, the villagers shrieked aloud, and rushed to rescue me from the river.

”'Follow!' said my partner, plunging as he spoke into the foaming flood.

”I followed. Since then I have lived with him here. It is now a century since, but he has communicated to me a portion of his own immortality, and I know not age, neither do I dread death any longer.

He is good and kind to me, though fearful to others. The only cause of complaint I have is his invariable custom of destroying every babe to which I give birth on the third day after my delivery. He says it is for my sake, and for their sakes, that he does so, and he knows best.”

She sighed heavily as she said this.

”And now,” resumed the lady, ”I must give you one piece of advice, which, if you would keep your life, you must implicitly adopt. My husband will return. Be on your guard, I bid you. He will offer you gold, he will pour out the countless treasures he possesses before you, he will proffer you diamonds and pearls and priceless gems, but--heed well what I say to you--take nothing more from him than you would from any other person. Take the exact sum you are wont to receive on earth, and take not a kreutzer more, or your life is not worth a moment's purchase. It is forfeit.”

”He must be a cruel being, indeed,” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the midwife. ”G.o.d deliver me from this dread and great danger.”

”See you yon sealed vessels?” spake the lady, without seeming to heed her fright, or hear her e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns.

The midwife looked, and saw ranged on an upper shelf of the apartment about a dozen small pots, like pipkins, all fast sealed, and labelled in unknown characters.

”These pots,” pursued she, ”contain the souls of those who have been, like you, my attendants in childbirth, but who, for slighting the advice I gave them, as I now give you, and permitting a spirit of unjust gain to take possession of their hearts, were deprived of life by my husband. Heed well what I say. He comes. Be silent and discreet.”

As she spake the water spirit entered. He first asked his wife how she did, and his tones were like the rus.h.i.+ng sound of a current heard far off. Learning from her own lips that all was well with her, he turned to the midwife and thanked her most graciously.

”Now, come with me,” he said, ”I must pay thee for thy services.”

She followed him from the sick-chamber to the treasury of the palace.

It was a s.p.a.cious crystal vault, lighted up, like the rest of the palace, from without, but within it was resplendent with treasures of all kinds. He led her to a huge heap of s.h.i.+ning gold which ran the whole length of the chamber.

”Here,” said he, ”take what you will. I put no stint upon you.”

The trembling woman picked up a single piece of the smallest coin she could find upon the heap.

”This is my fee,” she spake. ”I ask no more than a fair remuneration for my labour.”

The water spirit's brow blackened like a tempestuous night, and he showed his green teeth for a moment as if in great ire, but the feeling, whatever it was, appeared to pa.s.s away as quickly as it came, and he led her to a huge heap of pearls.

”Here,” he said, ”take what you will. Perhaps you like these better?

They are all pearls of great price, or may be you would wish for some memento of me. Take what you will.”

But she still declined to take anything more, although he tempted her with all his treasures. She had not forgotten the advice of her patient.

”I desire nothing more from you, great prince as you are, than I receive from one of my own condition.” This was her uniform answer to his entreaties--

”I thank you, but I may not take aught beside my due.”

”If,” said he, after a short pause, ”you had taken more than your due, you would have perished at my hands. And now,” proceeded the spirit, ”you shall home, but first take this. Fear not.”

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