"I will not do so again," said Henry, ashamed and kissed the knight's hand.
"But what is the meaning of the herb moly, which protected the great hero from this enchantress?"
"It is religion," replied Tausdorf, embracing the boy in deep emotion. "If in every purpose you remember that God looks on; if you ask yourself whether it would be acceptable to him; and if in the slightest doubt of this you abandon it, then you have got the right talisman against sin."
"I will be truly good, Herr Tausdorf; I will, indeed," said the boy, and gently rested his auburn head against the knight's breast, when the sound of horses' feet was heard before the window.
"That is my mother!" he shouted, wiping away his tears, and running out of the room. Tausdorf started from his seat--"Air! the child has made me warm with his questions. It is hard to teach good to others, when one has to accuse one's self of evil. Oh Circe! Circe!"
Again he looked at the picture of Ulysses.
"With armed hand the hero broke the mighty spell which held his companions prisoners. He did his duty. Have I too done mine? I have redeemed myself from the magic circle, but is that enough? Should I not have taken the power of evil from this woman, who seems to have come here to weave the meshes for some net of mischief, heaven only knows what? If I did not choose to denounce the creature, should I not at least have called the attention of the council to her, that no one might come to harm? Yet no. In what she has done she has only wronged myself. The ill that my denunciation might cause her would be revenge, and that does not become a man towards frail woman. Let her do as she pleases, we are all in God's hand."
"My dear friend!" exclaimed Althea, who then entered, and immediately let go of Henry's hand to fly into the arms of her intended husband. The old Schindel followed. Tausdorf hastened to welcome him with the knightly pledge, that he might not have at once to meet the look of his bride, towards whom he knew his heart was not perfectly at ease.
"Are you quite recovered?" asked Althea affectionately; "you look pale, as if you had slept but little last night."
This innocent appeal to the past night covered poor Tausdorf with a burning blush, which, as an estimable rarity in a man of his age, gave a double charm to his features. He turned away, however, to hide the treacherous colour, and Schindel addressed his niece: