Arinbiorn rejoiced also, while his dun-coloured charger seemed also glad, and neighed aloud, as he snuffed up the well-known sea-air. But Arinbiorn’s joy was unmixed with wonder; it was the delight of a shepherd, who, after long wandering, comes once more to feed his flocks on well-known native plains. So, when they had thus come to the hill-top, he dismounted from his horse, and began to collect dry branches and withered leaves from the neighbouring thickets, to which he set fire; and scarcely had the blue clouds of smoke ascended on high, when behold! a stately ship, which had been lurking behind the coverts of a wooded island, came slowly into view, and made towards the main shore. “See there!” cried Arinbiorn; “my comrades have indeed watched well, and are already at the appointed place!” Meanwhile Sir Otto had risen up from his prayers, and the sea-monarch continued,--“That island, with its thick copsewood, is the same on which I had the combat with Sir Heerdegen; and here, on one of the nearest hills, must be the wonderful castle of the Lady Minnatrost, of which both Heerdegen and Bertha related such strange stories.” With deep emotion, Sir Otto looked round for the Druda’s castle; of which, during the fatal banquet, ere he had drank of the cup intended for the sea-monarch, Bertha had found time to give him a description. Every word that she had uttered was indelibly imprinted on his heart; so, in his dreams too, he had often beheld that mysterious fortress, with its white flowers waving on the ramparts, and the tall saint-like form of the Lady Minnatrost. He thought, moreover, that it might now be permitted him humbly to knock at the enchanted gates, that he might hear, though from a distance, the divine music of the golden spheres; and that, if perchance the wise lady of the mansion should look over the battlements, she might bestow upon him one friendly greeting, which might serve to guide him in his future pilgrimage through the world, as she must of necessity be aware how her image lived and was cherished in his heart. Soon after he indeed perceived a hill in the neighbourhood, which was crowned with some dark gloomy towers; but how different were these from the descriptions he had heard of the Lady Minnatrost’s castle! There was here nothing to be seen, but ruinous walls covered with moss, and tottering as if they would fall into the deep trenches beneath. On the ramparts, instead of white roses and lilies, nettles and long grass were waving in the wind; while, among these weeds, owls and other ominous birds shewed their vile crooked beaks, or rose screaming on the wing, when a wily fox, as if he were the castellan of the fortress, marched along the battlements. “Good Heavens! what a desolate, mournful sight!” said Sir Otto, with a deep sigh. “Surely it is impossible that this can be the Druda’s castle?”