Page:Select Popular Tales from the German of Musaeus.djvu/53

Rh where the company were assembled, bowed courteously to the lords and ladies present, and, as the child was brought in, and the priest approached the font, she took her place among the godmothers. Every one gave place to her as a stranger, and she held the child first in her arms over the font. All eyes were fixed on her, as she was so beautiful, so well-bred, and so sumptuously clothed. She had a flowing robe of sky-blue silk, open up the front, and white satin underneath; over this she was adorned with jewels and pearl ornaments as richly as our Lady at Loretto on a gala day. A glittering sapphire clasped her transparent veil, which fell in thin folds from the crown of her head over her beautifully-arranged hair, across her shoulders, and down to her feet; but the veil was wet, as if it had been dipped in water. The unexpected appearance of the strange lady had so much interrupted the assembled godmothers in their devotions, that they forgot to give the child a name; so the priest baptized it Matilda, after its mother. When the christening was over, the little Matilda was carried back to her mother, and the godfathers crowded around to wish the child happiness, and the godmothers to offer their presents. The lady Matilda seemed somewhat embarrassed at the aspect of Nixa; perhaps also surprised that she had so faithfully kept her word. She cast a stolen glance at her husband, who answered with a smile, in which she could read nothing; and, for the rest, he seemed to take no further notice of the stranger. The godmothers’ presents now gave them other occupation; a shower of gold streamed, from liberal hands, over the child. The unknown at last approached with her present, and disappointed the expectations of all the sponsors. They anticipated, from the splendidly-attired lady, a jewel or other memorial of great worth, particularly as she produced a silken pocket, which she drew out of another with great care; but my lady godmother had nothing wrapped up in it but a musk-apple, turned in wood. She laid this solemnly in the child’s cradle, kissed the mother friendlily on the forehead, and left the room. At this pitiful present, a secret whisper arose among those present, which soon broke out into a scornful laugh. There failed not to arise many malicious remarks and speculations as to how she came into the room; but, as the knight and his lady observed a profound silence, there remained nothing for the curious chatterers but to entertain their own idle conjectures. The unknown appeared no more, and none knew whither she had vanished.

Wackerman was secretly tormented with the desire to ask who the stranger might be, as nobody knew the name by which the lady with the wet veil was called; only his dislike, as a knight, to show himself guilty of woman’s weakness, and the inviolability of his plighted word, bound his tongue, when, in the hours of matrimonial intimacy, the question would rise, as it often did, to his lips, “Tell me, my dear, who was the godmother with