Thinkest thou, Sintram, that it holds enough to slide down to the foot of the precipice?""Let me go instead," said Sintram."I will bring you the head and the claws of the bear.""A true knight," replied Folko, with some displeasure, "never does a knightly deed by halves.What I ask is, whether my skate will still hold?"As Sintram bent down to look, and was on the point of saying "No!" he suddenly heard a voice close to him, saying, "Why, yes, to be sure;there is no doubt about it."
Folko thought that Sintram had spoken, and slid down with the swiftness of an arrow, whilst his companion looked up in great surprise.The hated form of the little Master met his eyes.As he was going to address him with angry words, he heard the sound of the baron's fearful fall, and he stood still in silent horror.There was a breathless silence also in the abyss below.
"Now, why dost thou delay?" said the little Master, after a pause.
"He is dashed to pieces.Go back to the castle, and take the fair Helen to thyself."Sintram shuddered.Then his hateful companion began to praise Gabrielle's charms in so glowing, deceiving words, that the heart of the youth swelled with emotions he had never before known.He only thought of him who was now lying at the foot of the rock as of an obstacle removed between him and heaven: he turned towards the castle.
But a cry was heard below: "Help! help! my comrade! I am yet alive, but I am sorely wounded."Sintram's will was changed, and he called to the baron, "I am coming."But the little Master said, "Nothing can be done to help Duke Menelaus; and the fair Helen knows it already.She is only waiting for knight Paris to comfort her." And with detestable craft he wove in that tale with what was actually happening, bringing in the most highly wrought praises of the lovely Gabrielle; and alas! the dazzled youth yielded to him, and fled! Again he heard far off the baron's voice calling to him, "Knight Sintram, knight Sintram, thou on whom Ibestowed the holy order, haste to me and help me! The she-bear and her whelps will be upon me, and I cannot use my right arm! Knight Sintram, knight Sintram, haste to help me!"His cries were overpowered by the furious speed with which the two were carried along on their skates, and by the evil words of the little Master, who was mocking at the late proud bearing of Duke Menelaus towards the poor Sintram.At last he shouted, "Good luck to you, she-bear! good luck to your whelps! There is a glorious meal for you! Now you will feed upon the fear of Heathendom, him at whose name the Moorish brides weep, the mighty Baron of Montfaucon.Never again, 0 dainty knight, will you shout at the head of your troops, 'Mountjoy St.Denys!'" But scarce had this holy name passed the lips of the little Master, than he set up a howl of anguish, writhing himself with horrible contortions, and wringing his hands, and ended by disappearing in a storm of snow which then arose.
Sintram planted his staff firmly in the ground, and stopped.How strangely did the wide expanse of snow, the distant mountains rising above it, and the dark green fir-woods--how strangely did they all look at him in cold reproachful silence! He felt as if he must sink under the weight of his sorrow and his guilt.The bell of a distant hermitage came floating sadly over the plain.With a burst of tears he exclaimed, as the darkness grew thicker round him, "My mother! my mother! I had once a beloved tender mother, and she said I was a good child!" A ray of comfort came to him as if brought on an angel's wing; perhaps Montfaucon was not yet dead! and he flew like lightning along the path, back to the steep rock.When he got to the fearful place, he stooped and looked anxiously down the precipice.
The moon, just risen in full majesty, helped him.The Knight of Montfaucon, pale and bleeding, was half kneeling against the rock;his right arm, crushed in his fall, hung powerless at his side; it was plain that he could not draw his good sword out of the scabbard.
But nevertheless he was keeping the bear and her young ones at bay by his bold threatening looks, so that they only crept round him, growling angrily; every moment ready for a fierce attack, but as often driven back affrighted at the majestic air by which he conquered even when defenceless.
"Oh! what a hero would there have perished!" groaned Sintram, "and through whose guilt?" In an instant his spear flew with so true an aim that the bear fell weltering in her blood; the young ones ran away howling.
The baron looked up with surprise.His countenance beamed as the light of the moon fell upon it, grave and stern, yet mild, like some angelic vision."Come down!" he beckoned; and Sintram slid down the side of the precipice, full of anxious haste.He was going to attend to the wounded man, but Folko said, "First cut off the head and claws of the bear which I slew.I promised to bring the spoils of the chase to my lovely Gabrielle.Then come to me, and bind up my wounds.My right arm is broken." Sintram obeyed the baron's commands.When the tokens of victory had been secured, and the broken arm bound up, Folko desired the youth to help him back to the castle.
"0 Heavens!" said Sintram in a low voice, "if I dared to look in your face! or only knew how to come near you!""Thou wert indeed going on in an evil course," said Montfaucon, gravely; "but how could we, any of us, stand before God, did not repentance help us? At any rate, thou hast now saved my life, and let that thought cheer thy heart."The youth with tenderness and strength supported the baron's left arm, and they both went their way silently in the moonlight.
