“Nay, not to-night, Dietrich,” said the maiden. “I was on my way to some kinsfolk hard by, when I slipped from the path into the river, and theirs is the shelter I must seek out.”
He thought there was a mischievous gleam in her eyes as she spoke, but she continued more gravely: “Yet give thy mother greeting from me, and say I would gladly come and see her soon, for my kinsfolk have known thine this many a day, and I have often longed to climb to the cottage on the hill.”
The lad leaned forward eagerly; “Oh! let me lead thee there to-night,” he pleaded; “it is surely nearer than any other dwelling, and I am loth to leave thee, alone—and so soon,” he added falteringly.
“Nay, not now, Dietrich,” she repeated, while the merry smile again played over her face; “I am wet, and it is late, and my kinsfolk await me. Only give thy mother my message.”
“And what name doth she know thee by,” he asked, “since thou knowest mine so well?”
“My name is Crystal,” replied the maiden, “but I doubt she will not know me by it—though I know thine so well,” she added, laughing.
“Thou art a strange creature,” said the lad, laughing too, for her gaiety was infectious, “yet a very fair one, and if I may not go with thee, at least I may ask one boon for having saved thee out of the river—the boon of a single kiss.”
But at this Crystal drew back and became grave. “Not from me,” she said softly; “but if thou wouldst yet do anything for my sake, Dietrich, or see me again, give thy kiss to the first dumb thing that shall ask for a caress. That is my last word.” And, turning, she glided so fast through the trees, that she was out of sight in a moment. Dietrich went home, a strange turmoil in his heart, and told his mother of the adventure.
“And the oddest thing is,” he concluded, “that her face looks to me as though I had always known it, had always seen and loved those red-gold tresses coiled about that white brow—and her voice is as the voices that call to me at night-time over the lake. Dost thou know, indeed, who she may be, or what these kinsmen are to whom she is going?”
“I know nothing of them, my son,” replied Alice, “and I do not think we shall ever know aught. Yet do as she bade thee, for it may bring thee good fortune.”