“You are not a Christian?” asked the monk, startled in spite of himself by the passionate tones in which she spoke.
The maiden laughed.
“Am I not as beautiful as your Christian maids?” said she. “Am I not human even as they are?” She moved about the cell as she spoke, and picked up a piece of embroidery. “See, this is my handiwork; is it less beautiful because it is not the work of a Christian? Why should we suffer persecution at your hands?”
The young monk endeavoured to show that she was unjust in her estimate of his religion. Gravely he told her the story of Christianity, but his thoughts were of her weird beauty and he spake less earnestly than was usual. And the maid, with an appearance of child-like innocence, waited until he had finished his recital. She saw that she had him completely in her power and pressed her advantage to the uttermost. She drew closer to him, raised his hand, and pressed it to her lips. The monk surrendered himself to her caresses, and when at length she begged him to break the symbol of his religion he was too much fascinated to refuse. He raised the cross and would have dashed it to the ground, but at that very moment he heard high above the storm the sound of a bell. Contrite and ashamed, he fell on his knees and prayed for pardon. When he looked up again the girl had disappeared.
The hermit found the warning bell suspended on a bough outside his cell; how it came there he never knew, but he was sure that it had been sent to rescue him from the wiles of Satan and he treasured it as a sacred relic. Many came from far and near to see the wonder, and on the site of the cell the monk founded a chapel which became known as the Klingelkapelle, or ‘Tinkling-chapel.’
The Wafer-Nymph of Staufenberg
A charming story is linked with the castle of Staufenberg. One day while its owner was out hunting he lost his way in the forest. The day was hot, and the hunter was well-nigh overcome with thirst and fatigue when he entered a pleasant glade in which a spring of limpid water bubbled and sparkled. Having quenched his thirst, he seated himself on a mossy bank to rest before proceeding homeward. Suddenly he saw at a little distance a damsel of unique and marvellous beauty, braiding her wet hair by the side of the spring. He watched her for a time in silence, then, conscious that the damsel had observed his scrutiny, he hastened to her side and courteously begged her permission to remain a little longer in the glade.
“You are the lord of these domains,” she replied graciously. “It is I who am grateful to you for suffering me to dwell here.”
The young knight protested eagerly that she honoured the forest with her presence, and, indeed, he had already begun to wish that she might dwell not only in the forest but in the schloss itself as his wife and its mistress—for he had fallen in love with her at first sight. Indeed, so ardent was his passion that he could not conceal his infatuation; he told her of his love and begged that she would give him a little hope. The maid’s hesitation only drove him to urge his suit with increasing ardour.
“I will say neither ‘yes’ nor ‘no,’” she replied, smiling. “Meet me to-morrow at this hour and you shall have your answer.”