The Greylock
Ebers, Georg, 1837-1898
English
We will print you a perfectly bound paperback of your selected title and send it to you at your nominated address
Below is a summary of The Greylock
This eBook was produced by David Widger
[NOTE: There is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the
file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an
entire meal of them. D.W.]
THE GREYLOCK
By Georg Ebers
A FAIRY TALE.
Once upon a time there was a country, more beautiful than all other lands
and the castle of the Duke, its ruler, lay beside a lake that was bluer
than the deepest indigo. A long time ago the Knight Wendelin and his
squire George chanced upon this lake, but they found nothing save waste
fields and bleak rocks around it, yet the shores must formerly have borne
a different aspect, for there were shattered columns and broken-nosed
statues lying on the ground. Against the hillside there were remains of
ancient walls that once, undoubtedly, had supported terraces of vines,
but the rains had long washed the soil from the rocks, and among the
caves and crannies of the fallen stonework, and ruined cellars, foxes,
bats, and other animals had found a home.
The knight was no antiquary, but as he looked about him his curiosity was
excited: "What can have happened here?" he said, and his squire wondered
also, and followed his master. The latter led his horse to the edge of
the water to let him drink, for though he had seen many watercourses in
the land, he had found nothing in them save stones, and boulders, and
sand.
"What if this lake should be salt, like the Dead Sea in the Holy Land?"
the knight asked, and the squire answered:
"Ugh, that would be a thousand pities!" As the former raised his hand to
his mouth to taste the water, wishing indeed that it were wine, he
suddenly heard a strange noise. It was mournful and complaining, but
very soft and sweet. It seemed to be the voice of an unhappy woman, and
this pleased the knight, for he had ridden forth in search of adventures.
He had already been successful in several encounters, and from George's
saddle hung the tail-tips of seven dragons which his master had killed.
But a woman with a musical, appealing voice, in great danger, offered a
rare opportunity to a knight. Wendelin had not yet had any such
experience. The squire saw his master's eyes sparkle with pleasure,
and scratched his head thinking: "Distress brings tears to most peoples'
eyes, but there is no knowing what will delight a knight like him!"
The waters of the lake proved to be not salt, but wonderfully sweet.
When Wendelin reached the grotto from which the complaining notes came,
he found a beautiful young woman, more lovely than any one the grey-
haired George had ever seen. She was pale, but her lips shone moist and
red like the pulp of strawberries, her eyes were as clear and blue as the
sky over the Holy Land, and her hair glistened as if it had been spun of
the sunbeams. The knight's heart beat fast at the sight of her
loveliness; he could not speak, but he noticed that her hands and feet
were bound with chains, and that her beautiful hair was entwined about a
circle of emeralds that hung by a chain from the ceiling. She marked
neither the knight nor the squire, who stood shading his eyes with his
hand in order to see her the better.
Hot rage took possession of the heart of Wendelin when he saw the tears
rain down from the lady's large eyes onto her gown, which was already as
wet as if she had just been drawn from the lake.
When the knight noticed this, an overwhelming pity chased the anger from
his heart, and George, who was a soft-hearted man, sobbed aloud at her
pitiful appearance. The voice of the knight, too, was unsteady as he
called to the fair prisoner that he was a German, Wendelin by name, and
that he had set out on a knightly quest to kill dragons, and to draw his
sword for all who were oppressed. He had already conquered in many
combats, and nothing would please him better than to fight for her.
At this she ceased to weep, but she shook her head gently--her hair being
chained impeded her motion,--and answered sadly. "My enemy is too
powerful. You are young and beautiful, and the darling, perhaps, of a
loving mother at home, I cannot bear that you should suffer the same fate
as the others. Behold that nut-tree over there! What seem to be white
gourds hanging on its naked branches are their skulls! Go your way
quickly, for the evil spirit that keeps me prisoner, and will not release
me until I have sworn an oath to become his wife, will soon return. His
name is Misdral, he is very fierce and mighty, and lives among the waste
rocks over there on the north shore of the lake. You have my thanks for
Back