from confinement. But Undine only the more earnestly urged the
accomplishment of her commands. This earnestness was scarcely
required. The servants of the castle were as happy in obeying their
gentle lady, as in opposing the haughty spirit of Bertalda; and
however the latter might scold and threaten, still the stone was in a
few minutes lying firm over the opening of the fountain. Undine
leaned thoughtfully over it, and wrote with her beautiful fingers on
the flat surface. She must, however, have had something very sharp
and corrosive in her hand, for when she retired, and the domestics
went up to examine the stone, they discovered various strange
characters upon it, which none of them had seen there before.

When the knight returned home, toward evening, Bertalda received him
with tears, and complaints of Undine's conduct. He cast a severe
glance of reproach at his poor wife, and she looked down in distress;
yet she said very calmly:

"My lord and husband, you never reprove even a bondslave before you
hear his defence; how much less, then, your wedded wife!"

"Speak! what moved you to this singular conduct?" said the knight
with a gloomy countenance.

"I could wish to tell you when we are entirely alone," said Undine,
with a sigh.

"You can tell me equally well in the presence of Bertalda," he
replied.

"Yes, if you command me," said Undine; "but do not command me--pray,