That poor man yonder, whom I found half-frozen by the way, would make a full confession to me at once, before he followed me to a place of shelter.Do as he has done, my dark-browed warrior, and delay not your good purpose for one instant."Thereupon he left the room with the willing castellan, but he turned back to say, "Sir Knight and your esquire! take good care the while of my sick charge."Sintram and Rolf did according to the chaplain's desire: and when at length their cordials made the pilgrim open his eyes once again, the young knight said to him, with a friendly smile, "Seest thou? thou art come to visit me after all.Why didst thou refuse me when, a few nights ago, I asked thee so earnestly to come? Perhaps I may have spoken wildly and hastily.Did that scare thee away?"A sudden expression of fear came over the pilgrim's countenance; but soon he again looked up at Sintram with an air of gentle humility, saying, "0 my dear, dear lord, I am most entirely devoted to you--only never speak to me of former passages between you and me.I am terrified whenever you do it.For, my lord, either I am mad and have forgotten all that is past, or that Being has met you in the wood, whom I look upon as my very powerful twin brother."Sintram laid his hand gently on the pilgrim's mouth, as he answered, "Say nothing more about that matter: I most willingly promise to be silent."Neither he nor old Rolf could understand what appeared to them so awful in the whole matter; but both shuddered.
After a short pause the pilgrim said, "I would rather sing you a song--a soft, comforting song.Have you not a lute here?"Rolf fetched one; and the pilgrim, half-raising himself on the couch, sang the following words:
"When death is coming near, When thy heart shrinks in fear And thy limbs fail, Then raise thy hands and pray To Him who smooths thy way Through the dark vale.
Seest thou the eastern dawn, Hearst thou in the red morn The angel's song?
Oh, lift thy drooping head, Thou who in gloom and dread Hast lain so long.
Death comes to set thee free;
Oh, meet him cheerily As thy true friend, And all thy fears shall cease, And in eternal peace Thy penance end.""Amen," said Sintram and Rolf, folding their hands; and whilst the last chords of the lute still resounded, the chaplain and the castellan came slowly and gently into the room."I bring a precious Christmas gift," said the priest."After many sad years, hope of reconciliation and peace of conscience are returning to a noble, disturbed mind.This concerns thee, beloved pilgrim; and do thou, my Sintram, with a joyful trust in God, take encouragement and example from it.""More than twenty years ago," began the castellan, at a sign from the chaplain--"more than twenty years ago I was a bold shepherd, driving my flock up the mountains.A young knight followed me, whom they called Weigand the Slender.He wanted to buy of me my favourite little lamb for his fair bride, and offered me much red gold for it.
I sturdily refused.Over-bold youth boiled up in us both.A stroke of his sword hurled me senseless down the precipice.
"Not killed?" asked the pilgrim in a scarce audible voice.
"I am no ghost," replied the castellan, somewhat morosely; and then, after an earnest look from the priest, he continued, more humbly: "Irecovered slowly and in solitude, with the help of remedies which were easily found by me, a shepherd, in our productive valleys.When I came back into the world, no man knew me, with my scarred face, and my now bald head.I heard a report going through the country, that on account of this deed of his, Sir Weigand the Slender had been rejected by his fair betrothed Verena, and how he had pined away, and she had wished to retire into a convent, but her father had persuaded her to marry the great knight Biorn.Then there came a fearful thirst for vengeance into my heart, and I disowned my name, and my kindred, and my home, and entered the service of the mighty Biorn, as a strange wild man, in order that Weigand the Slender should always remain a murderer, and that I might feed on his anguish.So have Ifed upon it for all these long years; I have fed frightfully upon his self-imposed banishment, upon his cheerless return home, upon his madness.But to-day--" and hot tears gushed from his eyes--"but to-day God has broken the hardness of my heart; and, dear Sir Weigand, look upon yourself no more as a murderer, and say that you will forgive me, and pray for him who has done you so fearful an injury, and--"Sobs choked his words.He fell at the feet of the pilgrim, who with tears of joy pressed him to his heart, in token of forgiveness.
