Often, with secret
satisfaction, did he mark the forest stream rolling by more wildly
every day; its bed became wider and wider, and he felt the period of
his seclusion from the world must be still prolonged. Having found an
old crossbow in a corner of the cottage, and mended it, he spent part
of his days roving about, waylaying the birds that flew by, and
bringing whatever he killed to the kitchen, as rare game. When he came
back laden with spoil, Undine would often scold him for taking the
life of the dear little joyous creatures, soaring in the blue depths
of Heaven; she would even weep bitterly over the dead birds. But if he
came home empty-handed, she found fault with his awkwardness and
laziness, which obliged them to be content with fish and crabs for
dinner. Either way, he took delight in her pretty fits of anger; the
more so as she rarely failed to make up for them by the fondest
caresses afterwards. The old folks, having been in the young people's
confidence from the first, unconsciously looked upon them as a
betrothed or even married pair, shut out from the world with them in
this retreat, and bestowed upon them for comforts in their old age.
And this very seclusion helped to make the young Knight feel as if he
were already Undine's bridegroom. It seemed to him that the whole
world was contained within the surrounding waters, or at any rate,
that he could never more cross that charmed boundary, and rejoin other
human beings.
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