church-yard, in whose consecrated ground were the graves of his
ancestors; a place which they, as well as himself, had endowed with
rich privileges and gifts. His shield and helmet lay upon his
coffin, ready to be lowered with it into the grave, for Lord
Huldbrand of Ringstetten had died the last of his race. The mourners
began their sorrowful march, chanting their melancholy songs beneath
the calm unclouded heaven; Father Heilmann preceded the procession,
bearing a high crucifix, while the inconsolable Bertalda followed,
supported by her aged father.

Then they suddenly saw in the midst of the mourning females in the
widow's train, a snow-white figure closely veiled, and wringing its
hands in the wild vehemence of sorrow. Those next to whom it moved,
seized with a secret dread, started back or on one side; and owing to
their movements, the others, next to whom the white stranger now
came, were terrified still more, so as to produce confusion in the
funeral train. Some of the military escort ventured to address the
figure, and attempt to remove it from the procession, but it seemed
to vanish from under their hands, and yet was immediately seen
advancing again, with slow and solemn step, among the followers of
the body. At last, in consequence of the shrinking away of the
attendants, it came close behind Bertalda. It now moved so slowly,
that the widow was not aware of its presence, and it walked meekly
and humbly behind her undisturbed.

This continued until they came to the church-yard, where the
procession formed a circle round the open grave. Then it was that
Bertalda perceived her unbidden companion, and, half in anger and
half in terror, she commanded her to depart from the knight's place
of final rest. But the veiled female, shaking her head with a gentle