And now came the Crusader home, bronzed and battle-scarred, but bringing a great and splendid fame to lay at the feet of his bride.  The old lord of Hornberg received him as his son, and wanted him to stay by him and be the comfort and blessing of his age; but the tale of that young girl’s devotion to him and its pathetic consequences made a changed man of the knight.  He could not enjoy his well-earned rest.  He said his heart was broken, he would give the remnant of his life to high deeds in the cause of humanity, and so find a worthy death and a blessed reunion with the brave true heart whose love had more honored him than all his victories in war.

When the people heard this resolve of his, they came and told him there was a pitiless dragon in human disguise in the Haunted Cave, a dread creature which no knight had yet been bold enough to face, and begged him to rid the land of its desolating presence.  He said he would do it.  They told him about the song, and when he asked what song it was, they said the memory of it was gone, for nobody had been hardy enough to listen to it for the past four years and more.

Toward midnight the Crusader came floating down the river in a boat, with his trusty cross-bow in his hands.  He drifted silently through the dim reflections of the crags and trees, with his intent eyes fixed upon the low cliff which he was approaching.  As he drew nearer, he discerned the black mouth of the cave.  Now—­is that a white figure?  Yes.  The plaintive song begins to well forth and float away over meadow and river—­the cross-bow is slowly raised to position, a steady aim is taken, the bolt flies straight to the mark—­the figure sinks down, still singing, the knight takes the wool out of his ears, and recognizes the old ballad—­too late!  Ah, if he had only not put the wool in his ears!

The Crusader went away to the wars again, and presently fell in battle, fighting for the Cross.  Tradition says that during several centuries the spirit of the unfortunate girl sang nightly from the cave at midnight, but the music carried no curse with it; and although many listened for the mysterious sounds, few were favored, since only those could hear them who had never failed in a trust.  It is believed that the singing still continues, but it is known that nobody has heard it during the present century.

Chapter XVI
An Ancient Legend of the Rhine
[The Lorelei]

The last legend reminds one of the “Lorelei”—­a legend of the Rhine.  There is a song called “The Lorelei.”

Germany is rich in folk-songs, and the words and airs of several of them are peculiarly beautiful—­but “The Lorelei” is the people’s favorite.  I could not endure it at first, but by and by it began to take hold of me, and now there is no tune which I like so well.