Now, as he talked or listened to the quiet tales of the old fisherman,
the knight heard a strange sound that seemed to come from the
direction of the window. Again and again it came, a strange sound as
of water being dashed against the window-panes.

It was plain that the fisherman heard it too, for at each splash a
frown crossed his good-natured face.

A louder splash, and a shower of water streamed through the loosely
built window-frame into the kitchen.

Then the old man could sit still no longer. He hastened to the window,
and opening it called out in an angry voice, 'Undine, cease these
childish tricks. A stranger, and he a knight, is in our cottage.'

A low laugh answered him. Hearing it, the old man shut the window and
sat down again, saying to his guest, 'Sir Knight, forgive this rude
behaviour. Undine my foster-daughter is still only a child, although
she is now nearly eighteen years of age. Yet her tricks are harmless,
and she herself is full of kindness.'

'Ah,' said the old woman to her husband, 'to you, who are not with her
save when the day's work is over, her pranks may seem harmless. But
you would not talk so lightly of her ways were she by your side all
day. Ever I must watch her, lest she spoil my baking, or undo my
spinning or burn the soup. Nay--'

'It is true,' said the old man, interrupting his wife with a smile,
'it is true that you have the maiden by your side throughout the
livelong day, while I have but the sea. Yet when the sea is rough and