Towards evening Sintram awoke.He saw the good Rolf sitting at his bedside, and looked up in the old man's kind face with a smile of unusually innocent brightness.But soon again his dark brows were knit, and he asked, "How did my father receive you, Rolf? Did he say a harsh word to you?""No, my dear young lord, he did not; indeed he did not speak to me at all.At first he looked very wrathful; but he checked himself, and ordered a servant to bring me food and wine to refresh me, and afterwards to take me to your room.""He might have kept his word better.But he is my father, and I must not judge him too hardly.I will now go down to the evening meal."So saying, he sprang up and threw on his furred mantle.
But Rolf stopped him, and said, entreatingly: "My dear young master, you would do better to take your meal to-day alone here in your own apartment; for there is a guest with your father, in whose company Ishould be very sorry to see you.If you will remain here, I will entertain you with pleasant tales and songs.""There is nothing in the world which I should like better, dear Rolf," answered Sintram; "but it does not befit me to shun any man.
Tell me, whom should I find with my father?""Alas!" said the old man, "you have already found him in the mountain.Formerly, when I used to ride about the country with Biorn, we often met with him, but I was forbidden to tell you anything about him; and this is the first time that he has ever come to the castle.""The crazy pilgrim!" replied Sintram; and he stood awhile in deep thought, as if considering the matter.At last, rousing himself, he said, "Dear old friend, I would most willingly stay here this evening all alone with you and your stories and songs, and all the pilgrims in the world should not entice me from this quiet room.But one thing must be considered.I feel a kind of dread of that pale, tall man; and by such fears no knight's son can ever suffer himself to be overcome.So be not angry, dear Rolf, if I determine to go and look that strange palmer in the face." And he shut the door of the chamber behind him, and with firm and echoing steps proceeded to the hall.
The pilgrim and the knight were sitting opposite to each other at the great table, on which many lights were burning; and it was fearful, amongst all the lifeless armour, to see those two tall grim men move, and eat, and drink.
As the pilgrim looked up on the boy's entrance, Biorn said: "You know him already: he is my only child, and fellow-traveller this morning."The palmer fixed an earnest look on Sintram, and answered, shaking his head, "I know not what you mean."Then the boy burst forth, impatiently, "It must be confessed that you deal very unfairly by us! You say that you know my father but too much, and now it seems that you know me altogether too little.Look me in the face: who allowed you to ride on his horse, and in return had his good steed driven almost wild? Speak, if you can!"Biorn smiled, shaking his head, but well pleased, as was his wont, with his son's wild behaviour; while the pilgrim shuddered as if terrified and overcome by some fearful irresistible power.At length, with a trembling voice, he said these words: "Yes, yes, my dear young lord, you are surely quite right; you are perfectly right in everything which you may please to assert."Then the lord of the castle laughed aloud, and said: "Why, thou strange pilgrim, what is become of all thy wonderfully fine speeches and warnings now? Has the boy all at once struck thee dumb and powerless? Beware, thou prophet-messenger, beware!"But the palmer cast a fearful look on Biorn, which seemed to quench the light of his fiery eyes, and said solemnly, in a thundering voice, "Between me and thee, old man, the case stands quite otherwise.We have nothing to reproach each other with.And now suffer me to sing a song to you on the lute." He stretched out his hand, and took down from the wall a forgotten and half-strung lute, which was hanging there; and, with surprising skill and rapidity, having put it in a state fit for use, he struck some chords, and raised this song to the low melancholy tones of the instrument:
"The flow'ret was mine own, mine own, But I have lost its fragrance rare, And knightly name and freedom fair, Through sin, through sin alone.
The flow'ret was thine own, thine own, Why cast away what thou didst win?
Thou knight no more, but slave of sin, Thou'rt fearfully alone!""Have a care!" shouted he at the close in a pealing voice, as he pulled the strings so mightily that they all broke with a clanging wail, and a cloud of dust rose from the old lute, which spread round him like a mist.
Sintram had been watching him narrowly whilst he was singing, and more and more did he feel convinced that it was impossible that this man and his fellow-traveller of the morning could be one and the same.Nay, the doubt rose to certainty, when the stranger again looked round at him with the same timid, anxious air, and with many excuses and low reverences hung the lute in its old place, and then ran out of the hall as if bewildered with terror, in strange contrast with the proud and stately bearing which he had shown to Biorn.
The eyes of the boy were now directed to his father, and he saw that he had sunk back senseless in his seat, as if struck by a blow.
Sintram's cries called Rolf and other attendants into the hall; and only by great labour did their united efforts awake the lord of the castle.His looks were still wild and disordered; but he allowed himself to be taken to rest, quiet and yielding.
