Santarem

“ The river scenery in this neighbourhood is of the greatest beauty. A few houses of settlers are seen at the bottom of the broad bay of Aramána-í at the foot of a range of richly-timbered hills, the high beach of snow-white sand stretching in a bold curve from point to point. The opposite shores of the river are ten or eleven miles distant, but towards the north is a clear horizon of water and sky. The country near Point Cajetúba is similar to the neighbourhood of Santarem: namely, campos with scattered trees. ”

“ The joyful calm which came over Sintram on this day appeared to be more than a passing gleam. If too, at times, a thought of the knight Paris and Helen would inflame his heart with bolder and wilder wishes, it needed but one look at his scarf and sword, and the stream of his inner life glided again clear as a mirror, and serene within. “What can any man wish for more than has been already bestowed on me?” ”

“ And is not your father the knight Biorn? For surely the bear’s claw on your mantle must be the cognisance of your house.”
Sintram assented to all this, in deep and humble shame.
The Knight of Montfaucon raised him from the ground, and said gravely, yet gently, “We are, then, of kin the one to the other; but I could never have believed that any one of our noble house would attack a peaceful man without provocation, and that, too, without giving warning.”
“Slay me at once,” answered Sintram, “if indeed I am worthy to die by so noble hands. I can no longer endure the light of day.” ”

“ On a sudden old Rolf appeared, returning home from a visit to the chaplain of Drontheim, to whom he had been relating, with tears of joy, how Sintram was softened by the presence of the angel Gabrielle, yea, almost healed, and how he dared to hope that the evil dreams had yielded. And now the sword, as it whizzed round the furious youth, had well-nigh wounded the good old man. ”

“ Then the first rays fell on the snow, and the little Master ran, muttering, down a precipice; but the pilgrim walked on in the bright beams, calmly and with great solemnity, towards a neighbouring castle on the mountain. It was not long before its chapel-bell was heard tolling for the dead.
“For Heaven’s sake,” whispered the good Rolf to his knight—“for Heaven’s sake, Sir Sintram, what kind of companions have you here? One of them cannot bear the light of God’s blessed sun, and the other has no sooner set foot in a dwelling than tidings of death wail after his track. ”

“ At this moment the good Rolf appeared above on the rampart; a consecrated taper in his lantern shone down into the moat, as he sought for the missing young knight. “In God’s name, Sir Sintram,” he called out, “what has the spectre of whom you slew on Niflung’s Heath, and whom I never could bury, to do with you?”
“Seest thou well? hearest thou well?” whispered the little Master, and drew back into the darkness of the underground passage. “The wise man up there knows me well. There was nothing in thy heroic feat. Come, take the joys of life while thou mayst.” ”

“ At length, when the dawn of day was approaching, Sintram broke silence by saying, “Who are those two sitting yonder by the frozen stream—a tall man and a little one? Their own wild hearts must have driven them also forth into the wilderness. Rolf, dost thou know them? The sight of them makes me shudder.”
“Sir,” answered the old man, “your disturbed mind deceives you. There stands a lofty fir-tree, and the old weather-beaten stump of an oak, half-covered with snow, which gives them a somewhat strange appearance. There are no men sitting yonder.” ”

“ And at a sign from Folko, she offered her tender lips for the new knight to kiss. Thrilling all over, and full of a holy joy, Sintram arose in deep silence, and hot tears streamed down his softened countenance, whilst the shout and the trumpets of the assembled troops greeted the youth with stunning applause. Old Rolf stood silently on one side, and as he looked in the mild beaming eyes of his foster-child, he calmly and piously returned thanks:
“The strife at length hath found its end,
Rich blessings now shall heaven send!
The evil foe is slain!” ”

“ Verena knows all, and she too praises God for thee. I do indeed now dare hope that the time will soon come when thou mayst appear before her. But Sintram, Sir Sintram, there is need of haste; for the old man above requires speedy air, and thou hast still a heavy—as I hope the last—yet a most heavy trial to undergo for his sake. Arm thyself, my knight, arm thyself even with bodily weapons. In truth, this time only spiritual armour is needed, but it always befits a knight, as well as a monk, to wear in decisive moments the entire solemn garb of his station. ”

“ We have overcome. Oh, how soft and easy does the good God make it to us!” And so it came to pass. He stretched himself back as if weary, and his soul was freed from his care-worn body.
Rolf now gently awoke his young knight, and pointed to the smiling dead. And Sintram smiled too; he and his good esquire fell on their knees, and prayed to God for the departed spirit. Then they rose up, and bore the cold body to the vaulted hall, and watched by it with holy candles until the return of the chaplain. That the pilgrim would not come back again, they very well knew. ”

“ As if with a fearful curiosity, the moon, through a rent in the clouds, cast a beam upon Sintram’s companion, and made clear to the shuddering youth that the little Master stood, by him.
“Avaunt!” cried he, “I will listen no more to thy evil stories about the knight Paris: they would end by driving me quite mad.”
“My stories about Paris are not needed for that!” grinned the little Master. “It is enough that the Helen of thy heart should be journeying towards Montfaucon. Believe me, madness has thee already, head and heart. Or wouldest thou that she should remain? ”

“ It went so far that Sintram came to be looked upon as the protector of all those whom his father pursued with relentless fury; but nevertheless sometimes his own wildness would carry the young knight away to accompany his fierce father in his fearful deeds. Then Biorn used to laugh with horrible pleasure, and to say: “See there, my son, how the flames we have lighted blaze up from the villages, as the blood spouts up from the wounds our swords have made! It is plain to me, however much thou mayst pretend to the contrary, that thou art, and wilt ever remain, my true and beloved heir!” ”

“ Old Rolf was now scarcely able to leave the stone fortress; and sometimes he said: “I feel it a burden that my life should yet be prolonged; but also there is much comfort in it, for I still think the good God has in store for me here below some great happiness; and it must be something in which you are concerned, my beloved Sir Sintram, for what else in the whole world could rejoice me?”
But all remained as it was, and Sintram’s fearful dreams at Christmas-time each year rather increased than diminished in horror. ”

“ Then I heard a voice like that of an angel, saying, ‘His son does the most for him! He must this night wrestle with death and with the fallen one! His victory will be victory, and his defeat will be defeat, for the old man and himself.’ Thereupon I awoke; and I knew that all depended upon whom thou wouldst bring with thee. Thou hast conquered. Next to God, the praise be to thee!”
“Gotthard and Rudlieb have helped much,” replied Sintram; “and, beloved father, so have the fervent prayers of the chaplain of Drontheim. ”

“ Thus they arrived about midnight at Biorn’s castle. The windows of the hall shone opposite to them with a brilliant light, as though some great feast were kept there, and confused sounds, as of singing, met their ears. Sintram gave his horse hastily to some retainers in the court-yard, and ran up the steps, whilst Skovmark stayed by the well-known horse.
A good esquire came towards Sintram within the castle and said, “God be praised, my dear master, that you are come; for surely nothing good is going on above. But take heed to yourself also, and be not deluded. ”

“ 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?” ”

“ God keep a Norwegian from such a fear. But when you stand before me in all the brightness of your glory, the fleetingness of everything earthly weighs down my mind, and I cannot refrain from saying, ‘Take heed, noble baron! oh, take heed! Even the most beautiful glory comes to an end.’”
“Those are wise and pious thoughts,” replied Folko calmly, “and I will treasure them in a pure heart.”
The good Rolf was often with Folko and Gabrielle, and made a connecting link between the two widely differing parties in the castle. For how could he have ever forsaken his own Sintram! ”

“ The voyage to Montfaucon must in that case be altogether given up, and thy Helen would remain here, at least through the long, long, dark winter.”
“If! if!” replied Sintram, with scorn. “Is the sea thy bond-slave? Are the storms thy fellow-workmen?”
“They are rebels, accursed rebels,” muttered the little Master in his red beard. “Thou must lend me thy aid, sir knight, if I am to subdue them; but thou hast not the heart for it.”
“Boaster, evil boaster!” answered the youth; “what dost thou ask of me?”
“Not much, sir knight; nothing at all for one who has strength and ardour of soul. ”

“ He would have continued speaking, but the good Rolf came hastily back with a few followers, the whole party so ghastly pale, that all eyes were involuntarily fixed on them, and looked anxiously to hear what tidings they had brought. Rolf stood still, silent and trembling.
“Take courage, my old friend!” cried Sintram. “Whatever thou mayest have to tell is truth and light from thy faithful mouth.”
“My dear master,” began the old man, “be not angry, but as to burying that strange warrior whom you slew, it is a thing impossible. Would that we had never opened that wide hideous visor! ”

“ And thereupon Sintram began to relate and to describe all that had passed with the pale man.
“I know him also very well,” said Biorn. “He is half crazed and half wise, as we sometimes are astonished at seeing that people can be. But do thou, my boy, go to rest after thy wild journey. I give you my word that Rolf shall be kindly received if he arrive here; and that if he do not come soon, he shall be sought for in the mountains.”
“I trust to your word, father,” said Sintram, half humble, half proud; and he did after the command of the grim lord of the castle. ”

“ The little man, much pleased, nodded his head; and as they paced together up and down a retired elm-walk, he began discoursing as follows:—
“Many hundred years ago a young knight, called Paris of Troy, lived in that sunny land of the south where are found the sweetest songs, the brightest flowers, and the most beautiful ladies. You know a song that tells of that fair land, do you not, young sir? ‘Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers.’” Sintram bowed his head in assent, and sighed deeply. ”

“ But the dwarf replied, with a laugh: “Be quite at rest for him; he will be able to save himself. The waves can do him no harm. Seest thou? They are only begging of him, and therefore they jump up so boldly round him; and he gives them bountiful alms— very bountiful, that I can assure thee.”
In fact, as it seemed, the pilgrim threw some bones into the sea, and passed scatheless on his way. Sintram felt his blood run cold with horror, and he rushed wildly towards the castle. ”

“ But the fair lady looked on her knight with eyes dim with tears, and sighed: “Is it not behind those mountains that the Rocks of the Moon lie? The unhappy Sintram makes me sad at heart.”
“I understand thee, sweet gracious lady, and the pure compassion of thy heart,” replied Folko; instantly ordering his swift-footed steed to be brought. He placed his noble lady under the charge of his retainers, and leaping into the saddle, he hastened, followed by the grateful smiles of Gabrielle, along the valley towards the stone fortress. ”

“ Then Folko took him by the hand, led him towards a bright polished shield, and said very earnestly, “Look here at yourself, young knight!”
At the first glance Sintram drew back horrified. He fancied that he saw the little Master before him with that single upright feather sticking out of his cap; but he at length perceived that the mirror was only showing him his own image and none other, and that his own wild dagger had given him this strange and spectre-like aspect, as he could not deny to himself. ”

“ Do you not bear in your hand that very sword with which the pure lady girded you? does not her scarf wave over your raging breast? Do you not recollect how you used to say, that no man could wish for more than had fallen to you?”
“Yes, Rolf, I have said that,” replied Sintram, sinking on the mossy turf, bitterly weeping. Tears also ran over the old man’s white beard. Before long the youth stood again erect, his tears ceased to flow, his looks were fearful, cold, and grim ”

“ 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 I bestowed 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! ”