Great Stories from the German Romantics. Ludwig Tieck

colour in the face, deformed still farther by a long matted beard: he wore no covering on his head; but had twisted a garland of green branches through his hair, which made his wild appearance still more strange and haggard. On his back he bore some heavy burden in a sack, very carefully tied, and as he walked he leaned upon a young fir.

      On coming nearer, he put down his load, and drew deep draughts of breath. He bade Elizabeth good-day; she shuddered at the sight of him, the girl crouched close to her mother. Having rested for a little while, he said: “I am getting back from a very hard journey among the wildest mountains of the Earth; but to pay me for it, I have brought along with me the richest treasures which imagination can conceive, or heart desire. Look here, and wonder!” Thereupon he loosed his sack, and shook it empty: it was full of gravel, among which were to be seen large bits of chuck-stone, and other pebbles. “These jewels,” he continued, “are not ground and polished yet, so they want the glance and the eye; the outward fire, with its glitter, is too deeply buried in their inmost heart; yet you have but to strike it out and frighten them, and show that no deceit will serve, and then you see what sort of stuff they are.” So saying, he took a piece of flinty stone, and struck it hard against another, till they gave red sparks between them. “Did you see the glance?” cried he. “Ay, they are all fire and light; they illuminate the darkness with their laugh, though as yet it is against their will.” With this he carefully repacked his pebbles in the bag, and tied it hard and fast. “I know thee very well,” said he then, with a saddened tone; “thou art Elizabeth.” The woman started.

      “How comest thou to know my name?” cried she, with a forecasting shudder.

      “Ah, good God!” said the unhappy creature, “I am Christian, he that was a hunter: dost thou not know me, then?”

      She knew not, in her horror and deepest compassion, what to say. He fell upon her neck and kissed her. Elizabeth exclaimed: “O Heaven! my husband is coming!”

      “Be at thy ease,” said he; “I am as good as dead to thee: in the forest, there, my fair one waits for me; she that is tall and stately, with the black hair and the golden veil. This is my dearest child, Leonora. Come hither, darling: come, my pretty child; and give me a kiss, too; one kiss, that I may feel thy mouth upon my lips once again, and then I leave you.”

      Leonora wept; she clasped close to her mother, who, in sobs and tears, half held her towards the wanderer, while he half drew her towards him, took her in his arms, and pressed her to his breast. Then he went away in silence, and in the wood they saw him speaking with the hideous Woodwoman.

      “What ails you?” said the husband, as he found mother and daughter pale and melting in tears. Neither of them answered.

      The ill-fated creature was never seen again from that day.