impressed also the young Huldbrand with the feeling that he was
already Undine's bridegroom. It seemed to him as if, beyond those
encompassing floods, there were no other world in existence, or at
any rate as if he could never cross them, and again associate with
the world of other men; and when at times his grazing steed raised
his head and neighed to him, seemingly inquiring after his knightly
achievements and reminding him of them, or when his coat-of-arms
sternly shone upon him from the embroidery of his saddle and the
caparisons of his horse, or when his sword happened to fall from the
nail on which it was hanging in the cottage, and flashed on his eye
as it slipped from the scabbard in its fall, he quieted the doubts of
his mind by saying to himself, "Undine cannot be a fisherman's
daughter. She is, in all probability, a native of some remote
region, and a member of some illustrious family."

There was one thing, indeed, to which he had a strong aversion: this
was to hear the old dame reproving Undine. The wild girl, it is
true, commonly laughed at the reproof, making no attempt to conceal
the extravagance of her mirth; but it appeared to him like touching
his own honour; and still he found it impossible to blame the aged
wife of the fisherman, since Undine always deserved at least ten
times as many reproofs as she received; so he continued to feel in
his heart an affectionate tenderness for the ancient mistress of the
house, and his whole life flowed on in the calm stream of
contentment.

There came, however, an interruption at last. The fisherman and the
knight had been accustomed at dinner, and also in the evening when
the wind roared without, as it rarely failed to do towards night, to
enjoy together a flask of wine. But now their whole stock, which the