The next morning Undine, when she and her husband made their appearance, responded gracefully to the paternal greeting of the priest, beseeching his pardon for her folly of the previous evening, and begging him to pray for the good of her soul.  Through the whole day Undine behaved angelically.  She was kind, quiet, and gentle.  At eventide she led her husband out to the edge of the stream, which, to the wonder of Huldbrand, had subsided into gentle, rippling waves.

She whispered, “Carry me across to that little isle, and we will decide there.”

Wondering, he carried her across, and, laying her on the turf, listened as she began.

“My loved one, know that there are strange beings which, though seeming almost mortals, are rarely visible to human eyes—­salamanders in the flames, gnomes down in the earth, spirits in the air.  And in the water are myriads of spirits dwelling in crystal domes, in the coral-trees, and in the lovely shells.  These are far more beautiful than the fairest of human beings, and sometimes a fisherman has seen a tender mermaid, and has listened to her song.  Such wonderful creatures are called Undines, and one of these you see now before you!

“We should be far superior to other beings—­for we consider ourselves human—­but for one defect.  We have no souls, and nothing remains of us after this mortal life is over.  Yet every being aspires to rise higher, and so my father, who is a great water prince in the Mediterranean Sea, desired that his only daughter should become possessed of a soul.  But this can only come to pass with loving union with one of your race.  Now, O my dearly beloved, I have to thank you that I am gifted with a soul, and it will be due to you should all my life be made wretched.  For what will become of me if you forsake me?  If you would do so, do it now!  Then I will plunge into the stream—­which is my uncle—­and as he brought me here, so will he take me back to my parents, a loving, suffering woman with a soul.”

Undine would have said yet more, but Huldbrand, astonishing though the recital was, with tears and kisses vowed he would never leave his lovely wife; and with her leaning in loving trustfulness on his arm, they returned to the hut.

The next day, at Undine’s strange urgency, farewell was said with bitter tears and lamentations.

Undine was placed on the beautiful horse, and Huldbrand and the priest walked on either side as the three passed through the solemn glades of the wood.  A fourth soon joined them.  He was dressed in a white robe, like that of the priest, and presently attempted to speak to Undine.  But she shrank from him, declaring she wished to have nothing to do with him.

“Oh, oh!” cried the stranger, with a laugh.  “What kind of a marriage is this you have made, that you must not speak to your relative?  Do you not know I am your uncle Kuehleborn, who brought you to this region, and that I am here to protect you from goblins and sprites?  So let me quietly accompany you.”