Legends of the Rhine | Page 4

shall not make this great sacrifice
in vain," said her lover consolingly. "I shall return, that I feel confident
of."
Thus with bright hopes in his heart the youthful crusader bade his
weeping betrothed good-bye.
* * * * *
And every evening when the sun was sinking into the golden waters the
maiden walked along the strand, looking with longing eyes out into the
misty distance. Spring came and disappeared, summer followed, and
the swallows fled from the lake to warmer climes, the maiden sending
many a warm greeting with them. Wintry storms blew over the waters,
whistling round the lonely island, and the maiden had become as pale
as the flakes of snow which fell against the window-panes.
News one day reached the castle that the crusaders had returned from
the East, but that the nobleman from Langenstein was languishing in a
Turkish prison in a remote castle belonging to the Sultan. The maiden
was heart-broken by these tidings and now spent her days in prayers
and tears.
* * * * *

Within the mighty walls of a gloomy castle in the far-off East, a young
hero was sitting pining over his bitter fate. He prayed and groaned
aloud in his grief thinking of his betrothed from whom he had been so
cruelly separated. The Sultan had offered the fair-haired youth his
favourite daughter, a seductive eastern beauty, but the prisoner had
turned scornfully away, her dark glancing eyes having no charm for
him.
That night the youth had a strange dream. An angel was soaring over
his couch and came down to his side, and a voice whispered, "Promise
yourself to me, and you will see your native land again."
The knight started up and said reverently, "That was the voice of God!"
Confused thoughts rushed through his soul, he must renounce his love,
but at least he would see her again. Throwing himself on his knees, he
promised with a fervent oath that he would dedicate himself to the Lord,
if he might only see the beloved maiden once more.
An earthquake shook the castle to its very foundations, unfastening the
prison doors, thus setting the prisoner at liberty in a marvellous way.
He succeeded in reaching the coast without being caught by the guards
of the Sultan, and a vessel sailing to Venice took him on board. But as
he approached his native land the struggle in his soul between love and
duty was very great; at one moment it seemed to overcome him, and he
felt he could no longer keep his vow. But God again admonished him.
Reaching the lake he steered his boat towards the island, but a sudden
storm arose, threatening him with a watery grave. He prayed fervently
to Heaven, again swearing his oath.
The storm subsided, and the little boat having missed its course landed
on the other side of the lake, where the Grand Master of an Order of
German Knights had his seat.
The tired way-farer approached, begging to be received, a boon kindly
granted to him. Then starting off again with his boat the youth reached
the island. He there imprinted a sorrowful kiss on his beloved's pure
white forehead, bidding her and the world good-bye for ever.

The young girl resigned herself at first silently to her fate; but she soon
resolved on another plan: this place which had once been such a happy
home had no longer any charms to offer her, and she therefore
presented the island of Mainau to the German Order of Knights on one
condition, that the nobleman from Langenstein should be the successor
of the Grand Master. This request was willingly granted, the noble
maiden gave up all her rich possession and left the island in the
Bodensee. It is said that she retired to a convent, but no one ever knew
where.
The chronicle informs us that Hugh of Langenstein became one of the
most capable Grand Masters of this Order of Knights of Mainau. He is
also known as a great poet, and his poem on the martyr Martina still
exists in old manuscripts.

BASLE
One Hour in Advance
Basle was once surrounded by enemies, and very hard pressed on all
sides. A troop of discontented citizens made a shameful compact with
the besiegers to help them to conquer the town. It was arranged one
dark night that exactly as the clock was striking twelve the attack was
to be made from within and without. The traitors were all ready,
waiting for midnight in great excitement, having no evil presentiments
of what was about to happen.
The expected hour approached. Accidentally the watchman of the
tower heard of the proposed attack, and no time being left to warn the
commander of the garrison or the guard, he