The knight was very patient with her. He realised her unstrung condition, and tried to divert her mind by placing her gently in a chair where she could look out upon the river.
"See how white the waters gleam in the moonlight!" he said. "The river seems like a silver ribbon stretching away."
"And look!" she cried pointing. "There comes the swan-boat to take you from me! Ah, do not go!"
"Calm yourself, dear one! There is no boat."
"Oh, I cannot bear this mystery! I must question you!"
"Elsa!"
"I must, I must! What is your name?"
"Alas," he exclaimed. "Beware of what you say! Not another word I implore you!"
"Whence do you come?" she continued wildly.
At this moment a slight noise was heard at the door, and Frederick of Telramund burst in. He had enlisted the services of four of his former party, resolved to make one last bold stroke and kill the Knight of the Swan. But again he was no match for the knight. Alarmed by the noise, the latter sprang quickly for his sword and met Frederick midway in the room. A few swift strokes and that evil man lay dead upon the floor. The four nobles were seized with fear and came and knelt before the knight craving pardon.