A spotless hind was found, and the Pfalz-graf eagerly followed on her track, wounding her with an arrow; on sped the hind, until, with a last bound, it forced its way through the bushes, and fell bleeding and exhausted at Genoveva’s feet.
Siegfried followed close, and threw himself on his knees before his injured wife, who had been wonderfully preserved from death, and, together with the child to which she had given birth, nourished by the poor deer, which now was dying of her wounds.
Pointing to her babe, Genoveva showed that in every feature it was the counterpart of her lord: thus was Golo’s treachery made manifest, and his head, being struck from off the body, was exposed upon the castle walls.
Another legend of Pfalzel tells of a wicked nun, who, by the devil’s aid, worked a magic garment and presented it to the Archbishop; immediately on putting it on horrible desires seized on him, and he felt as if the fiend were dragging him to perdition. Throwing it off, others tried it, and on all it had the same effect; being therefore convinced of the iniquity of the worker, the Archbishop turned the nun out of the convent, but finding that her sister nuns were as bad as she, he was compelled to treat them all in a similar manner: the garment, however, still exists, and is worn by many.
Inland of Pfalzel is Rammstein, where a certain Count of Vianden (like Adalbert of St. Cross) came to an untimely end by an overfondness for wine. He had once taken the Bishop prisoner and put him into fetters; this the latter never forgot or forgave, so, knowing the Count’s fondness for wine, he, one very sultry day, sent a string of carts filled with barrels past the walls of the Count’s strong castle; down swooped the Count’s followers, like beasts of prey as they were, and carried off the convoy; then they all set to work drinking, in the true German fashion.
While thus carousing, the armed followers of the Bishop suddenly surprised them, and the castle was taken and burnt; the Bishop shouted to the Count, who in his turn was put in fetters, “Behold the consequence of raising thy hand against the Lord’s anointed!”
Near Pfalzel several brooks run into the Moselle; one on the same bank, named the Kill, passes Rammstein, and flowing through a charming valley, waters a large strip of most productive garden-ground, which extends from the Moselle to some distance inland.
These lateral valleys are very frequent on our river. We can scarcely wander along her banks for a quarter of a mile but a recess in the neighbouring hills is seen, through which a little stream comes dancing. Penetrating into the gorge we find busy little mills at work, and are led into scenery which at every turn seems to increase in beauty. We shall hereafter have to describe some of these lateral valleys, so need not now dwell on their delights.