down the quiet river. The stars twinkled from the dark sky, and peeped back at him from the dark stream.
Suddenly, far, far above him, there was the flash of white drapery. And then he saw Lorelei herself! Her golden hair fell about her like a veil woven of moonlight. She bent over the ledge, and beckoned him with bewitching sweetness. Her eyes shone like stars, and she sang — oh, how she sang!
The Count listened — was enraptured. In imagination, while she sang, he saw green caves paved with pink shells. He heard the soft, far-away murmur of still water on lonely shores. All about him, above him, below him, rippled waves of golden moonlight — he seemed floating in light.
Then, a fierce, grating, grinding sound! His frail boat struck against a jagged rock. It was upset. The Count was drowned.
Prince Palatine was wild with grief at the death of his only son. He sent some of his
