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Rh with choked sobs, Bertalda thought she recognised beneath the veil the white face of Undine. But on paced the weeping figure, slow and sad and reluctant, as though passing to a place of judgment. Bertalda shrieked out to her women to call the knight, but none of them dared to move; and even the bride herself was struck with silence, as though scared at the sound of her own voice.

Motionless, like statues, they stood at the window; and the wanderer from another world reached the castle and passed up the familiar stairs and through the well-known halls, still with silent tears. Alas! 'twas with a different step that once she had wandered there!

Now Huldbrand had dismissed his men, and stood, half-dressed, before a mirror, revolving bitter thoughts; a torch burnt dimly at his side. Of a sudden there was a light tap at the door–just so light a tap was Undine wont to give in merry sport.

"Nay, 'tis but my fancy," said the knight to himself, "I must to my wedding chamber."

"Ay, ay," said a tearful voice without, "thou must indeed, but the bed is cold!" Thereupon he saw in the mirror how the door opened slowly, slowly, and a white figure entered and carefully shut the door after her.

"They have opened the fountain," and her voice was soft and low. "And now I am here and thou must die." Straightway in his beating heart he knew