Sintram had not returned home, when those of the castle betook themselves to rest in deep bewilderment.

No one thought of him, for every heart was filled with strange forebodings, and with uncertain cares.

Even the heroic breast of the Knight of Montfaucon heaved in doubt.
Old Rolf still remained without, weeping in the forest, heedless of the storm which beat on his unprotected head, while he waited for his young master.

But he had gone a very different way; and when the morning dawned, he entered the castle from the opposite side.
Gabrielle's slumbers had been sweet during the whole night.

It had seemed to her that angels with golden wings had blown away the wild histories of the evening before, and had wafted to her the bright flowers, the sparkling sea, and the green hills of her own home.