silence, Sintram replied: "Noble steeds avoid those of a worse race, because they are ashamed of them; and the boldest dogs are attacked by a secret terror at sight of forms to which they are not accustomed. I have no cowardly animals with me." "Good, Sir knight, then ride with me through the valley." "I am going through the valley, but I want no companions." "But, perhaps, I want one. Do you not see that I am unarmed? And at this season, at this hour, there are frightful, unearthly beasts about." Just then, as if to confirm the awful words of the stranger, a thing swung itself down from one of the nearest trees covered with hoar frost,- -no one could say if it were a snake, or a lizard, it curled and twisted itself, and appeared to be going to slide down upon the knight or his companion. Sintram levelled his spear, and pierced the creature through. But with the most hideous contortions it fixed itself firmly on the spear head, and in vain did the knight endeavour to rub it off against the rocks or the trees. Then he let his spear rest upon his right shoulder, with the point behind him, so that the horrible beast no longer met his sight, and he said with good courage to the stranger: "It does seem indeed that I could help you, and I am not forbidden to have an unknown stranger in my company; so let us push on bravely into the valley!" "Help!" so resounded the solemn answer. "Not help. I, perhaps may help thee. But God have mercy upon thee, if the time should ever come when I could no longer help thee. Then thou wouldst be lost, and I should become very frightful to thee. But we will go through the valley, I have thy knightly word for it. Come!" They rode forward. Sintram's horse still showing signs of fear, the faithful dog still whining, but both obedient to their master's will. The knight was calm and stedfast. The snow had slipped down from the smooth rocks, and by the light of the rising moon could be seen various strange twisted shapes on their sides, some looking like snakes, and some like human faces; but they were only formed by the veins in the rock, and the half bare roots of trees which had planted themselves in that desert place with capricious firmness. High above, and at a great distance, the castle of Drontheim, as if to take leave, appeared again through an opening in the rocks. The knight then looked keenly at his companion, and he almost felt as if Weigand the Slender were riding beside him. "In God's name,” cried he, "art thou not the shade of that departed knight who suffered and died for Verena ?" "I have not suffered, I have not died, but die, poor mortals!" murmured the stranger. ye suffer and ye "I am not Wei gand. I am that other one, who was so like him, and whom thou hast also met before now in the wood." himself from the terror which came Sintram strove to free over him at these words. He looked at his horse; it appeared to him entirely altered. The dry, many coloured oak-leaves on its head were waving like the flames around a sacrifice, in the uncertain moon-light. He looked down again to see after his faithful Skovmark. Fear had likewise most wondrously changed him. On the ground in the middle of the road were lying dead men's bones, and hideous lizards were crawling about, and, in defiance of the wintry season, poisonous mushrooms were growing up all around. "Can this be still ny horse on which I am riding,” said the knight to himself in a low voice; "and can that trembling beast which runs at my side, be my own dog?" Then some one called after him in a yelling voice: “ Stop! Take me also with you!" Stop! Looking round, Sintram perceived a small frightful figure, with horns, and a face partly like a wild boar and partly like a bear, walking along on its hind legs, which were those of a horse, and in its hand was a strange hideous weapon shaped like a hook or a sickle. It was the being who had been wont to trouble him in his dreams, and alas! it was also the wretched Little Master himself, who, laughing wildly, stretched out a long claw towards the knight. The bewildered Sintram murmured: "I must have fallen asleep! and now my dreams are coming over me!” “You are awake,” replied the rider of the little horse, “but you know me also in your dreams. For behold! I am Death.” And his garments fell from him, and there appeared a mouldering skeleton, its ghastly head crowned with serpents; that which he had kept hidden under his mantle, was an hour-glass with the sand almost run out. Death held it towards the knight in his fleshless hand. The bell at the neck of the little horse gave forth a solemn sound. It was a passing-bell. "Lord, into Thy hands I commend my spirit!" prayed Sintram; and full of earnest devotion he rode after Death, who beckoned him on. "He has not got you yet! He has not got you yet!" screamed the fearful fiend. "Give yourself up to me rather, In one instant, for swift are your thoughts, swift is my might, -in one instant you shall be in Normandy. Helen yet blooms in beauty as when she departed hence, and this very night she would be yours." And once again he began his unholy praises of Gabrielle's loveliness, and Sintram's heart glowed like wildfire in his weak breast. Death said nothing more, but raised the hour-glass in his right hand yet higher and higher, and as the sand now ran out more quickly, a soft light streamed from the glass over Sintram's countenance, and then it seemed to him as if eternity in all its calm majesty were rising before him, and a world of confusion dragging him back with a deadly grasp. "I command thee, wild form that followest me," cried he, "I command thee in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, to cease from thy seducing words, and to call thyself by that name by which thou art recorded in Holy Writ!" A name, which sounded more fearful than a thunder-clap, burst despairingly from the lips of the Tempter, and he disappeared. "He will return no more," said Death in a kindly tone. "And now I am become wholly thine, my stern companion ?" "Not yet, my Sintram. I shall not come to thee till many, many years are past. But thou must not forget me the while." "I will keep the thought of thee steadily before my soul, thou fearful yet wholesome monitor, thou awful yet loving guide!" "Oh! I can truly appear very gentle." And so it proved indeed. His form became more softly defined in the increasing gleam of light which shone from the hour-glass, the features which had been awful in their sternness wore a gentle smile, the crown of serpents became a bright palm-wreath, instead of the horse appeared a white misty cloud on which the moonbeams played, and the bell gave forth sounds as of sweet lullabies. Sintram thought he could hear these words amidst them : "The world and Satan are o'ercome, All my terrors soon shall rise." The knight well knew that his father was meant, and he urged on his noble steed, who now obeyed his master willingly and gladly, and the faithful dog also again ran beside him fearlessly. Death had disappeared, but in front of Sintram there floated a bright morning cloud, which continued visible after the sun had risen in the clear winter sky to cheer and warm the earth. CHAPTER XXVIII.. "He is dead! the horrors of that fearful night of storm and tempest have killed him!" Thus said, about this time, some of Biorn's retainers, who had not been able to bring him back to his senses since the morning of the day before; they had made a couch of wolf and bear skins for him in the great hall, in the midst of the armour which still lay scattered around. One of the esquires said with a low sigh: "The Lord have mercy on his poor wild soul." Just then the warder blew his horn from his tower, and a trooper came into the room with a look of surprise. “A knight is coming towards here," said he; "a wonderful knight. I could have taken him for our lord Sintram-but a bright, bright morning-cloud floats so close before him, and throws over him such clear light, that one could fancy red flowers were showered down upon him. Besides, his horse has a reddish wreath of flowers on his head, which was never a custom of the son of our dead lord." "It was exactly such a one," replied another, "that I wove for him yesterday. He was not pleased with it at first, but af terwards he let it remain.' "But why did you do that?" "It seemed to me as if I heard a voice singing again and again in my ear: Victory! victory! the noblest victory! The knight rides forth to victory!' And then I saw a branch of our oldest oak tree stretched towards me, which had kept on almost all its red and yellow leaves in spite of the snow. So I did according to what I had heard sung; and I plucked some of the leaves, and wove a triumphal wreath for the noble warhorse. At the same time Skovmark,-you know that the faithful beast had always a great dislike to Biorn, and therefore |