soul? Let it teach you not to grieve your parents more.'

But Bertalda only grew more angry, and the poor parents, as they heard
her scorn, more sad.

As for the guests, they were talking loudly, some being sorry for the
maiden, others for the fisherman and his wife.

Then Undine begged the knight to let her speak to their guests. And he
yielding to her wish, she walked to the upper end of the table, and
while all eyes were fixed upon her, she spoke.

'My secret, which I thought would cause Bertalda joy, has caused her
sorrow. Yet must I tell you that I have spoken the truth. For he who
told me was he who, when Bertalda was but a little babe, drew her into
the water, and thereafter laid her in the green meadow through which
the duke rode toward his castle.'

'Do not listen to her words!' shouted Bertalda in her rage. 'She is a
witch, a witch!'

'Nay, I am no witch. Look upon me that you may know,' answered Undine.
And as they gazed upon her pure face and into her clear blue eyes, the
guests knew that she spoke the truth. Undine was not a witch.

'If she is not a witch, she at least has not told the truth,' cried
Bertalda, scorn in her cold voice. 'She has no proof that I am the
child of these wretched old people.' Then, turning to her noble
foster-parents, she entreated them to take her away at once from the
city, where such shame had been brought upon her.