Jette shook her head.
“Nay,” said she; “it is impossible. The vengeance of Herthe is swift—and awful. I will show thee a spring where we may meet.”
She led him to a place where the stream branched off in five separate rivulets, and bade him meet her there on the following night at a certain hour. The lovers then parted, each full of impatience for the return of the hour of meeting.
Next evening, when the dusk had fallen on the sacred grove of Herthe, Jette made her way to the rendezvous. The appointed time had not yet arrived, but scarcely had she reached the spot ere she fancied she heard a step among the undergrowth, and turned with a glad smile, prepared to greet her lover. Imagine her dismay when instead of the youth a grisly wolf confronted her! Her shriek of terror was uttered in vain. A moment later the monster had sprung at her throat.
Her lover, hastening with eager steps toward the place of meeting, heard the agonized shriek and, recognizing the voice of Jette, broke into a run. He was too late! The monster wolf stood over the lifeless body of his beloved, and though in his despairing fury the youth slew the huge brute, the retribution of Herthe was complete.
Henceforth the scene of the tragedy was called the ‘Wolf’s Spring,’ and the legend is enshrined there to this day.
The Jester of Heidelberg
Considering the wide fame of Rhenish vintages, it is perhaps not surprising that wine should enter as largely into the Rhine legends as the ‘barley bree’ is supposed to enter into Scottish anecdote. In truth there runs through these traditions a stream of Rhenish which plays almost as important a part in them as the Rhine itself. We are told that the Emperor Wenzel sold his crown for a quantity of wine; in the tale connected with Thann, in Alsace, mortar is mixed with wine instead of water, because of the scarcity of the latter commodity during the building of a steeple; while in the legends of “The Devil’s Vineyard,” and “The Cooper of Auerbach” the vintage of Rhineland provides the main interest of the plot. The following quaint little story, attaching to the castle of Heidelberg, is a ‘Rhenish’ tale in every sense of the word.
In the days when the Schloss Heidelberg was in its most flourishing state the lord of the castle numbered among his retainers a jester, small of stature and ugly of feature, whose quips and drolleries provided endless amusement for himself and his guests. Prominent among the jester’s characteristics was a weakness for getting tipsy. He was possessed of an unquenchable thirst, which he never lost an opportunity of satisfying.
Knowing his peculiarity, some youthful pages in the train of the nobleman were minded to have some amusement at his expense, and they therefore led him to a cellar in which stood a large vat filled with fragrant wine. And there for a time they left him.