"By no means," said their guide, with a laugh, "it is just the reverse; the stream goeth into the very middle of our road. Look round and see how overwhelming is the flood." And, indeed, the whole valley was filled with a rushing and heaving torrent of water, which was visibly swelling higher and higher.
"'Tis Kühleborn, the evil spirit," cried the knight, "he wishes to drown us! Hast thou no spell against him, my friend?"
"Ay, ay," returned he. "I know one well enough. But I may not and cannot use it until thou knowest who I am."
"Is this a time for riddles?" shouted Huldbrand. "The flood is rising higher and higher; and what mattereth it to me who thou art?"
"Nathless, it doth matter," quoth the waggoner, "for I am Kühleborn!" Thereupon he thrust a distorted face into the waggon with a grin. But, lo and behold, the waggon was a waggon no longer! The horses were no longer horses–all melted into foam and vanished in the seething waters. Even the waggoner himself towering over them as some gigantic billow, and dragging down the horse beneath the waves despite his struggles, rose and swelled higher and higher over the drowning pair of lovers, like a mighty column of water, threatening to bury them for ever.
And then, hark, 'twas Undine's voice which rang
