so the priest christened it Matilda, after its mother. After the ceremony, little Matilda was carried back to her mother, and the ladies followed in order to congratulate the new-made mother, and bestow upon their god-daughter the accustomed baptismal boon. At sight of the stranger Matilda betrayed some emotion. She probably felt a mixture of pleasure and surprise, at the punctuality shewn by the Naiad in the performance of her engagement. She cast a stolen glance at her husband, who replied by a smile, which none of the bystanders could decypher, and afterwards affected to take no notice of the stranger. The presents now engaged all the mother's attention: a shower of gold was poured upon the nursling from the liberal hands of its sponsors. Last of all, the unknown lady came forward with her boon, and much disappointed the expectations of her associates. They looked for a present of inestimable value from so splendid a personage, especially when they saw her produce, and unfold with great care and method, a silk case, which, as it turned out, contained nothing but a musk-ball, and that not the precious drug, but an imitation, turned in box-wood.-This she laid very gravely upon the cradle, and gave the mother a friendly kiss upon the forehead, aud then quitted the apartment.

So paltry a present occasioned a loud whisper through the room, and a laugh of scorn succeeded. Several shrewd remarks and sly allusions-for the festivity of a christening has in all ages been remarkable for its effect in brightening the wit-entertained the guests at the expense of the fair stranger. But, as the knight and his lady observed a mysterious silence upon the subject, both the curious and voluble were obliged to rest satisfied with distant conjectures. No more was seen of the stranger, nor could any one tell which way she had vanished. Siegfried was secretly tormented to know who the lady with the dripping veil, for so, for want of a better name, was she entitled, might

be. His tongue, however, was bound by the dread of falling into a woman's weakness, and by the inviolable sanctity of his knightly word. Nevertheless, in the moment of matrimonial confidence, the question, "Tell me now, my dear, who was the lady with the dripping veil," often was ready to bolt. He expected one day or other a full gratification of his curiosity by dint of cunning or caresses, firmly relying on that property of the female heart, in' consequence of which it is as little able to keep a secret as a sieve of holding water. For this time, however, he was mistaken in his calculation. Matilda kept the bridle on her tongue, and laid up the riddle in her heart with no less care than the musk-ball in her casket of jewels.

Ere the infant had outgrown the leading-strings, the nymph's prophecy respecting her affectionate mother was fulfilled; she was taken ill, and died so suddenly, that she had not even time to think of the musk-ball, much less could she dispose of it for the advantage of little Matilda, according to the directions of her patroness. Siegfried was unfortunately absent at a tournament at Augspurg, and was on his way homeward as this melancholy event happened, with his heart bounding for joy, on account of a prize he had received from the hands of the Emperor Frederick himself. As soon as the dwarf on the watchtower was aware of his lord's approach, he blew his horn, as usual, to announce his arrival to the people in the castle; but he did not blow a cheerful note, as on former occasions. The mournful blast smote the knight's heart sore, and raised up sad apprehensions in his breast: "Alas! he cries," do you hear those doleful sounds? it is more ungrateful to my ears than the screechowl's screaming. Hansel proclaims nothing good: I fear it is a death's blast." The squires were all dumb with apprehension. they looked their master sorrowfully in the face; at last one took up the word, and spake, "There goes a

single raven croaking to our left hand Heaven defend us! for I am afraid there is a corpse in the house." The knight upon this clapped spurs to his horse, and galloped over the heath till the sparks flew amain. The drawbridge fell; he cast an eager look into the court-yard, where he beheld the symbol of a dead body set out before the door; it consisted of a lantern crowned with a flag of crape, and with a light; moreover all the window-shutters were closed. At the same instant he heard the lamentation of the household, for they had just placed Matilda's coffin on the bier. At the head sate the two elder daughters, all covered with crape and frize. They were silently shedding showers of tears over their departed mother. The youngest was seated at the foot; she was as yet incapable of feeling her loss, and so she was employed in stripping, with childish unconcern, the flowers that were strewed over the dead body. This melancholy spectacle was too much for Siegfried's firmness: he began to sob and lament aloud, fell upon the ice-cold corpse, bedewed the wan cheeks with his tears, pressed with his quivering lips against the pale mouth, and gave himself up, without reserve, to the bitterness of sorrow. Having laid up his armour in the armoury, he drew his hat deep over his eyes, put on a black mourning cloak, and took his place beside the bier, brooding over his affliction; and at length conferred on his deceased wife the last honours of a solemn funeral.

It has been remarked by a certain great wit, that the most violent feelings are always the shortest in their duration. Accordingly the knight, bowed as he had been to the ground, felt the load of sorrow grow lighter by degrees, and in a short time entertained serious thoughts of repairing his loss by a second wife. The lot of his choice fell upon a brisk young damsel, the very antitype of the gentle Matilda. The household of course soon put on a different form. The new lady delighted in pomp and parade; her extravagance knew no bounds, and she

comported herself haughtily towards the domestics; she held banquets and carousals without number; her friutfulness peopled the house with a numerous progeny. The daughters of the first marriage were disregarded, and they very soon were put out of sight and out of mind. The two elder sisters were placed in a religious establishment in Germa ny. Little Matilda was banished to a remote corner of the house, and placed under the superintendance of a nurse, that she might no more intrude upon her step-mother's notice. As this vain woman was utterly averse to all household affairs, her want of economy rose to such a pitch, that the revenues arising from club-law were inadequate to the expenses, although the knight stretched his privilege to the utmost. My lady found herself frequently under the ne cessity of despoiling the repositories of her predecessor. She was obliged to barter away the rich stuffs, or surrender them on pawn to the Jews. Happening one day to be in great household distress, she rummaged every drawer and coffer for valuables; in her search, she stumbled upon a private compartment in an old escrutoire, and, to her great joy, among other articles, fell upon Matilda's casket of jewels. Her greedy eye devoured the sparkling diamond rings, the ear-pendants, bracelets, necklaces, lockets, and the whole trinkets besides. She took an accurate inventory of the whole stock, examined article by article, and calculated in idea, how much this glorious windfall would produce. Among other rarities she was aware of the wooden musk-ball; she tried to unskrew it, but it was swelled by the damp. She then poised it on her hand, but finding it as light as a hollow nut, she concluded it was an empty ring-case, and tossed it as if worthless lumber out at the window.

Little Matilda happened to be playing on the grass-plot immediately below. Seeing a round body roll along the turf, she grasped with a child's eagerness at the new plaything; nor was she a whit

less delighted at this, than her motherin-law at the other prize. It afforded her amusement for several days; she was so fond of it, that she would not part with it out of her own hands. One sultry summer's noon, the nurse carried her charge to the grotto for coolness; the child, after a while, asked for her afternoon's cake; but the nurse had forgotten to bring it, and did not chuse to be at the trouble of going back quite to the house: so, to keep the little one quiet, she went among the bushes to pluck a handful of blackberries. The child meanwhile played with the muskball, rolling it before her and running after it: once she rolled it a little too far, and the child's joy, in the strictest sense, tumbled into the water. Immediately a female, fresh as the morning, beautiful as an angel, and smiling like one of the Graces, appeared in view. The child started, for at first she supposed it was her step-mother, in whose way she never came without a beating or a scolding. But the Nymph accosted her in the most engaging terms: Be not afraid, my little dear, I am thy godmamma: come to me: look, here is thy plaything that fell into the water." The sight of this enticed the child towards her: the Nymph took her up in her arms, pressed her gently to her bosom, kissed her affectionately, and bedewed her face with

tears.

"Poor little orphan," said she, "I have promised to be instead of a mother to thee, and I will keep my word. Come often here to see me. Thou wilt always find me in this grotto upon throwing a pebble into the fountainhead. Keep thy musk-ball with the utmost care: be sure, never play with it any more, lest thou lose it; for some time or other, it will fulfil three of thy wishes. When thou art grown a little older, I will tell thee more. At present thou wouldst not understand me." She gave her much good advice besides, suitable to her tender age, and, above all things, enjoined her silence. Soon afterwards the nurse returned, and the Nymph was gone.

Matilda was a sensible, intelligent child; and she had reflection enough to hold her tongue on the subject of godmamma Nicksy. At her return to the castle, she asked for needle and thread, which she used for the purpose of sewing the musk-ball in the lower tuck of her frock. All her thoughts are now turned towards the fountain. Whenever the weather permitted, she proposed a walk there her superintendant could deny nothing to the coaxing little maid; and, as she seemed to inherit this predilection, the grotto having always been the favourite retreat of her mother, she gra tified her wishes so much the more cheerfully. Matilda always contrived some pretext for sending away the nurse; no sooner was her back fairly turned, than dash dropped a pebble into the spring, which instantly procured her the company of her indulgent godmother. In a few revolutions of the year, the little orphan attained the age of puberty: her charms disclosed themselves as the bud of a rose opens its hundred leaves, opens in modest dignity amid the many-coloured race of vulgar flowers. She blossomed indeed but in the kitchen-garden; for she lived unnoticed among the servants. she was never suffered to appear at her mother's vo luptuous banquets, but was confined to her chamber, where she employed herself in needle-work; and at the close of the day found, in the society of the Nymph of the Fountain, ample compensation for the noisy pleasures of which she was deprived. The Naiad was not only her companion and confidante, but likewise her instructress in every female accomplishment; and she was studious to form her exactly after the pattern of her virtuous mother.

One day the Nymph redoubled her ten→ derness: she clasped the charming Matilda in her arms, reclined her head upon her shoulder, and displayed so much melancholy fondness, that the young lady could not refrain from letting fall some sympathising tears upon her hand, as she pressed it in silence against her

lips. The Naiad appeared still more afflicted at this correspondence of feeling; "Alas! my child," said she, in a mournful voice," thou weepest, and knowest not wherefore; but thy tears are ominous of thy fate. A sad revolution awaits yon fortress upon the hill. Ere

the mower whets his scythe, or the west wind whistles over the stubble of the wheat field, all shall be desolate and forlorn. When the maidens of the castle go forth, at the hour of twilight, to fetch water from my spring, and return with empty pitchers, then remember that the calamity is at hand. Preserve carefully the musk-ball, which will fulfil three of thy wishes, but do not squander away this privilege heedlessly. Fare thee well; we meet no more at this spot." She then instructed her ward in another magic property of the ball, which might be serviceable in time of need. At length her tears and sobs stifled her voice, and she was no more seen. One evening, about the season of corn harvest, the maids that went out for water returned pale and affrighted, with their pitchers empty; their teeth chattered, and every limb quivered as if they were shaken by the shivering fit of an ague. "The lady in white," they reported, is sitting beside the well, "is uttering deep sighs, and wringing her hands in great affliction." Of this evil omen most of the squires armour-bearers made mock, declaring it to be all illusion and women's prate. Curiosity, however, carried several out to examine whether the report was true or false. They saw the same apparition; nevertheless they mustered up courage to approach the fountain, but as they came near the phantom was gone. Many interpretations were attempted, but no one fell upon the true import of the sign; Matilda alone was privy to it; but she held her peace, in compliance with the strenuous injunction of the Naiad. She repaired, dejected, to her chamber, where she sate alone, in fearful expectation of the things that were to come to pass.

:

Siegfried of Blackpool had degenerated by this time into a mere woman's tool he could never satisfy his spendthrift wife with enough of robbery and plunder. When he was not abroad waylaying travellers, she prepared a feast, invited a number of bacchanalian comrades, and kept him in a continued fit of intoxication, that he might not perceive the decay of his household. When there was a want of money or provisions, Jacob Fugger's broad-wheeled waggons, or the rich bales of the Venetians, afforded a never failing resource. Outraged at these continual depredations, the general congress of the Swabian alliance determined upon Siegfried's destruction, since remonstrances and admonitions were of no avail. Before be would believe they were in right earnest, the banners of the confederates were displayed before his castle-gate, and nothing was left him but the resolution to sell his life as dear as possible. The guns shattered the bastions: on both sides the cross-bowmen did their utmost; it hailed bolts and arrows: a shaft, discharged in a luckless moment, when Siegfried's protecting angel had stepped aside, pierced his vizor, and lodged deep in his brain. Great dismay fell upon his party at the loss of their undaunted leader: the cowardly hoisted a white flag; the courageous tore it down again from the tower: the enemy, concluding, from these appearances, that discord and confusion prevailed within the fort, seized the opportunity for making the assault; they clambered over the walls, carried the gates, let down the drawbridge, and smote every living thing that came in the way with the edge of their sword: they did not spare even the extravagant wife, the author of the calamity, nor her helpless children, for the allies were as much exasperated against the freebooting nobility, as the French mob against their feudal seigneurs, since the fall of despotism. The castle was ransacked, then set on fire and levelled with the ground, so that not one stone was left on another.

During the alarm of the siege, Matilda barricaded the door of her apartment in the best manner she was able, and took post at her little window in the roof of her house; and having observed the issue of the affair from this advantageous station, and finding that bolts and bars were not likely to afford her any farther security, she put on her veil, and then turned her musk-ball thrice round, at the same time repeating the words her friend the Naiad had taught her:

Behind me, night, Lefore me, day,

That none behold my secret way.

She now came down stairs in perfect confidence, and passed unperceived through the confusion of slaughter. She did not quit her paternal residence without deep sorrow of heart, which was much aggravated by her being utterly at a loss which was to take. She hastened from the scene of carnage and desolation, till her delicate feet absolutely refused to serve her any longer. The falling of night, together with extreme weariness, constrained her to take up her lodging at the foot of an oak, in the open fields. As soon as she had seated herself on the cold turf, her tears began to flow, and she made no attempt to restrain them. She turned aside her head to take a farewell view, and to breathe her last blessing on the place where she had passed the years of her childhood. As she lifted her eyes, behold the sky appeared all blood-red: from this sign she concluded that the residence of her forefathers had become a prey to the flames. She turned away her face from this horrid spectacle, heartily wishing for the hour when the sparkling stars should grow dim, and the dawn peep from the east. Ere the morning dew had settled in big round tears on the grass, she proceeded on her wandering pilgrimage. She arrived betimes at her village, where a compassionate housewife took her in, and recruited her strength with a slice of bread and a bowl of milk. With this woman she bartered her clothes in ex

change for meaner apparel, and then

joined a company of carriers on their way to Augspurg. In her forlorn situation, she had no other resource than to seek a place in some family: but, as it was not the season for hiring servants, it was a long time before she could find employment.

Count Conrad of Swabeck, a knight of the order of knights templars, chancellor and champion of the diocese of Augspurg, had a palace in that city, where he usually resided in winter. During his absence Gertrude, the housekeeper, bore sovereign sway in the mansion. Gertrude, like many other worthy persons of her sex and calling, had engrafted the failing of an inexorable scold upon the virtue of unremitting industry. Her failing was so much more notorious throughout the city, than her virtue, that few servants offered their services, and none had been able to stay out their time with her. She raised such an alarm, wherever she moved, that the maids dreaded the rattling of her keys as much as children do hobgoblins. Saucepans and heads suffered alike for her ill-humours; when no projectiles were within reach, she would wield her bunch of keys in her brawny arm, and beat the sides and shoulders of her subalterns black and blue. Every description of an ill-conditioned woman was summed up with," in short, she is as bad as Gertrude, the Count's housekeeper." One day she had administered her office of correction so rigorously, that all the household decamped with one consent: it was at this conjuncture that the gentle Matilda approached to offer her services. But she had taken care to conceal her elegant shape, by fastening a large lump on her left shoulder, as if she had been crooked; her beautiful auburn hair was covered with a large coarse cap; and she had anointed her face and hands, in imitation of the gypsies, with juice of walnut husks. Mother Gertrude, who, on hearing the bell ring, poked her head out at the window, was no sooner aware of the singular figure at the door, than she exclaimed, in her shrill tone, "Go,