The long northern winter was at last ended, the fresh green leaves rustled merrily in the woods, patches of soft moss twinkled amongst the rocks, the valleys grew green, the brooks sparkled, the snow melted from all but the highest mountain-tops, and the bark which was ready to carry away Folko and Gabrielle danced on the sunny waves of the sea.The baron, now quite recovered, and strong and fresh as though his health had sustained no injury, stood one morning on the shore with his fair lady; and, full of glee at the prospect of returning to their home, the noble pair looked on well pleased at their attendants who were busied in lading the ship.
Then said one of them in the midst of a confused sound of talking:
"But what has appeared to me the most fearful and the most strange thing in this northern land is the stone fortress on the Rocks of the Moon: I have never, indeed, been inside it, but when I used to see it in our huntings, towering above the tall fir-trees, there came a tightness over my breast, as if something unearthly were dwelling in it.And a few weeks ago, when the snow was yet lying hard in the valleys, I came unawares quite close upon the strange building.The young knight Sintram was walking alone on the ramparts as twilight came on, like the spirit of a departed knight, and he drew from the lute which he carried such soft, melancholy tones, and he sighed so deeply and sorrowfully...."The voice of the speaker was drowned in the noise of the crowd, and as he also just then reached the ship with his package hastily fastened up, Folko and Gabrielle could not hear the rest of his speech.But the fair lady looked on her knight with eyes dim with tears, and sighed: "Is it not behind those mountains that the Rocks of the Moon lie? The unhappy Sintram makes me sad at heart.""I understand thee, sweet gracious lady, and the pure compassion of thy heart," replied Folko; instantly ordering his swift-footed steed to be brought.He placed his noble lady under the charge of his retainers, and leaping into the saddle, he hastened, followed by the grateful smiles of Gabrielle, along the valley towards the stone fortress.
Sintram was seated near the drawbridge, touching the strings of the lute, and shedding some tears on the golden chords, almost as Montfaucon's esquire had described him.Suddenly a cloudy shadow passed over him, and he looked up, expecting to see a flight of cranes in the air; but the sky was clear and blue.While the young knight was still wondering, a long bright spear fell at his feet from a battlement of the armoury turret.
"Take it up,--make good use of it! thy foe is near at hand! Near also is the downfall of thy dearest happiness." Thus he heard it distinctly whispered in his ear; and it seemed to him that he saw the shadow of the little Master glide close by him to a neighbouring cleft in the rock.But at the same time also, a tall, gigantic, haggard figure passed along the valley, in some measure like the departed pilgrim, only much, very much, larger, and he raised his long bony arm fearfully threatening, then disappeared in an ancient tomb.
At the very same instant Sir Folko of Montfaucon came swiftly as the wind up the Rocks of the Moon, and he must have seen something of those strange apparitions, for as he stopped close behind Sintram, he looked rather pale, and asked low and earnestly: "Sir knight, who are those two with whom you were just now holding converse here?""The good God knows," answered Sintram; " I know them not.""If the good God does but know!" cried Montfaucon: "but I fear me that He knows very little more of you or your deeds.""You speak strangely harsh words," said Sintram."Yet ever since that evening of misery,--alas! and even long before,--I must bear with all that comes from you.Dear sir, you may believe me, I know not those fearful companions; I call them not, and I know not what terrible curse binds them to my footsteps.The merciful God, as Iwould hope, is mindful of me the while,--as a faithful shepherd does not forget even the worst and most widely-straying of his flock, but calls after it with an anxious voice in the gloomy wilderness."Then the anger of the baron was quite melted.Two bright tears stood in his eyes, and he said: "No, assuredly, God has not forgotten thee;only do thou not forget thy gracious God.I did not come to rebuke thee--I came to bless thee in Gabrielle's name and in my own.The Lord preserve thee, the Lord guide thee, the Lord lift thee up! And, Sintram, on the far-off shores of Normandy I shall bear thee in mind, and I shall hear how thou strugglest against the curse which weighs down thy unhappy life; and if thou ever shake it off, and stand as a noble conqueror over Sin and Death, then thou shalt receive from me a token of love and reward, more precious then either thou or I can understand at this moment."The words flowed prophetically from the baron's lips; he himself was only half-conscious of what he said.With a kind salutation he turned his noble steed, and again flew down the valley towards the sea-shore.
"Fool, fool! thrice a fool!" whispered the angry voice of the little Master in Sintram's ear.But old Rolf was singing his morning hymn in clear tones within the castle, and the last lines were these:-"Whom worldlings scorn, Who lives forlorn, On God's own word doth rest;With heavenly light His path is bright, His lot among the blest."Then a holy joy took possession of Sintram's heart, and he looked around him yet more gladly than in the hour when Gabrielle gave him the scarf and sword, and Folko dubbed him knight.
