“Nay,” said Veronica, “do not hurt it. See how weary the poor creature looks; how faint and breathless; and how soiled is its fur! It has been hunted, and has fled here for succour. Come here, poor thing. I will protect you!”
The animal approached Veronica, and crouched at her feet. “Get some water, Ediltrudis! it is going to die; I am sure it is; its eyes look so dim and glassy.”
Ediltrudis ran to a fountain close at hand, and brought some water in a shell which lay at its side. Veronica stooped down to place the water within reach of the exhausted animal, and, as she did so, she was about to pat it gently; but no sooner did her hand light upon its head, than a shock like that from an electric battery, ran through her frame, and made her start violently. Before she could recover herself, the hare had disappeared, and Witikind was in his sisters’ arms.
For a time, the children were too much overwhelmed with terror and amazement, to be able to speak. Veronica would have fainted, but for the timely supply of water which was close at hand; and even when she came to herself, she could not persuade herself that she was not dreaming. But there was something too hearty in the embraces of Witikind, and his kisses were altogether too vehement to have come from Dreamland. Briefly, but clearly, he made them acquainted with the events which had befallen him, and when, by degrees, they began to comprehend the reality of what they saw, he sent them into the castle, to prepare the Countess for his arrival.
Poor children! it was an arduous task. The excess of their joy made them as timid and afraid to speak, as excess of sorrow might have done. However, the roses helped them, and, as it were, prepared the mother’s mind for some unexpected intelligence of her boy; for, in those days, people thought more about the unseen world, and the interference of spiritual beings in men’s affairs, than they do now. And so, at length, the Countess Ermengarde, and the other inhabitants of Taubennest, were brought to understand that Witikind was once more among them.
Oh! how vain it were to attempt to describe the scene which then ensued!—
“Eager steps the threshold pressing;
Open’d arms in haste advancing;
Joyful looks through blind tears glancing;
The gladsome bounding of his aged hound,