The joy of this hour passed from its first overpowering brightness to the calm, thoughtful aspect of daily life; and Weigand, now restored to health, laid aside the mantle with dead men's bones, saying: "Ihad chosen for my penance to carry these fearful remains about with me, with the thought that some of them might have belonged to him whom I have murdered.Therefore I sought for them round about, in the deep beds of the mountain-torrents, and in the high nests of the eagles and vultures.And while I was searching, I sometimes--could it have been only an illusion?--seemed to meet a being who was very like myself, but far, far more powerful, and yet still paler and more haggard."An imploring look from Sintram stopped the flow of his words.With a gentle smile, Weigand bowed towards him, and said: "You know now all the deep, unutterably deep, sorrow which preyed upon me.My fear of you, and my yearning love for you, are no longer an enigma to your kind heart.For, dear youth, though you may be like your fearful father, you have also the kind, gentle heart of your mother; and its reflection brightens your pallid, stern features, like the glow of a morning sky, which lights up ice-covered mountains and snowy valleys with the soft radiance of joy.But, alas! how long you have lived alone amidst your fellow-creatures! and how long since you have seen your mother, my dearly-loved Sintram!""I feel, too, as though a spring were gushing up in the barren wilderness," replied the youth; "and I should perchance be altogether restored, could I but keep you long with me, and weep with you, dear lord.But I have that within me which says that you will very soon be taken from me.""I believe, indeed," said the pilgrim, "that my late song was very nearly my last, and that it contained a prediction full soon to be accomplished in me.But, as the soul of man is always like the thirsty ground, the more blessings God has bestowed on us, the more earnestly do we look out for new ones; so would I crave for one more before, as I hope, my blessed end.Yet, indeed, it cannot be granted me," added he, with a faltering voice; "for I feel myself too utterly unworthy of so high a gift.""But it will be granted!" said the chaplain, joyfully."'He that humbleth himself shall be exalted;' and I fear not to take one purified from murder to receive a farewell from the holy and forgiving countenance of Verena."The pilgrim stretched both his hands up towards heaven and an unspoken thanksgiving poured from his beaming eyes, and brightened the smile that played on his lips.
Sintram looked sorrowfully on the ground, and sighed gently to himself: "Alas! who would dare accompany?""My poor, good Sintram," said the chaplain, in a tone of the softest kindness, "I understand thee well; but the time is not yet come.The powers of evil will again raise up their wrathful heads within thee, and Verena must check both her own and thy longing desires, until all is pure in thy spirit as in hers.Comfort thyself with the thought that God looks mercifully upon thee, and that the joy so earnestly sought for will come--if not here, most assuredly beyond the grave."But the pilgrim, as though awaking out of a trance, rose mightily from his seat, and said: "Do you please to come forth with me, reverend chaplain? Before the sun appears in the heavens, we could reach the convent-gates, and I should not be far from heaven."In vain did the chaplain and Rolf remind him of his weakness: he smiled, and said that there could be no words about it; and he girded himself, and tuned the lute which he had asked leave to take with him.His decided manner overcame all opposition, almost without words; and the chaplain had already prepared himself for the journey, when the pilgrim looked with much emotion at Sintram, who, oppressed with a strange weariness, had sunk, half-asleep, on a couch, and said: "Wait a moment.I know that he wants me to give him a soft lullaby." The pleased smile of the youth seemed to say, Yes; and the pilgrim, touching the strings with a light hand, sang these words:
"Sleep peacefully, dear boy;
Thy mother sends the song That whispers round thy couch, To lull thee all night long.
In silence and afar For thee she ever prays, And longs once more in fondness Upon thy face to gaze.
And when thy waking cometh, Then in thy every deed, In all that may betide thee, Unto her words give heed.
Oh, listen for her voice, If it be yea or nay;And though temptation meet thee, Thou shalt not miss the way.
If thou canst listen rightly, And nobly onward go, Then pure and gentle breezes Around thy cheek shall blow.
Then on thy peaceful journey Her blessing thou shalt feel, And though from thee divided, Her presence o'er thee steal.
0 safest, sweetest comfort!
0 blest and living light!
That, strong in Heaven's power, All terrors put to flight!
Rest quietly, sweet child, And may the gentle numbers Thy mother sends to thee Waft peace unto thy slumbers."Sintram fell into a deep sleep, smiling, and breathing softly.Rolf and the castellan remained by his bed, whilst the two travellers pursued their way in the quiet starlight.
