But an appearance from the opening of the fountain filled them with awe, as it rose like a white column of water; at first they imagined it really to be a fountain, until they perceived the rising form to be a pale female, veiled in white.

She wept bitterly, raised her hands above her head, wringing them sadly as with slow and solemn step she moved toward the castle.

The servants shrank back, and fled from the spring, while the bride, pale and motionless with horror, stood with her maidens at the window.

When the figure had now come close beneath their room, it looked up to them sobbing, and Bertalda thought she recognized through the veil the pale features of Undine.

But the mourning form passed on, sad, reluctant, and lingering, as if going to the place of execution.
Bertalda screamed to her maids to call the knight; not one of them dared to stir from her place; and even the bride herself became again mute, as if trembling at the sound of her own voice.
While they continued standing at the window, motionless as statues, the mysterious wanderer had entered the castle, ascended the well-known stairs, and traversed the well-known halls in silent tears.