“Nay, be not thus alarmed,” answered the lady; “the youth of whom thou speak’st is indeed a man, as thou art, who now devotes his whole life in order to gain the affections of a young pagan enchantress, who dwells not far distant in a cave of the Finland mountains, and who from hence would send forth legions of evil spirits, who are at her command, against the Christians of Sweden and Norway, were it not that I am here to interpose my protection. No one, however, is aware of the noiseless, invisible, and yet vehement contention that we keep up against each other. Yonder, in the distance, by the light of the now rising moon, you may behold her dwelling among the rocks.” The knights went to the window, and contemplated the wide expanse of woods and mountains, that now looked sad and melancholy beneath the influence of departing autumn. Through the damp vapours of the night they beheld, on the other side of the valley, a strange assemblage of rocks, which rose like pillars, and were joined at the top, forming a lofty arch, while one could see deep into a long retreating cavern, whence there gleamed in the background the dull light of a large fire. “That light comes from the fire on which she boils her golden kettle,” said the lady; “there the enchantress pronounces her potent spells, and calls up numberless spirits, even as frightful and hideous to look upon, as she herself is attractive and beautiful.” “But, look yonder! who is that armed knight?” said Sir Otto. “He walks beneath this pale moonlight so resolutely and slowly before the cavern, as if he were a special sentinel! How the horse-hair crest of his helmet waves in the wind, and his tall halbert gives him a look of ghostly strength!” “That is indeed the unhappy Ottur of whom we spoke,” answered the lady: “thus he now thinks to win her heart; but in that attempt he never may succeed! What struggles he has already endured, and what painful victories he has won, all for her sake, and in vain! But he will not listen to my counsels, and rushes on to his own destruction!”--The lady fixed her eyes for a while, with an expression of deep melancholy, on the ground, then looked up, smiling, to the Knight of Trautwangen, and said,--“But Otto is not Ottur; he is indeed no wild Norman who will not hear good and kind advice, but rushes down the rugged steeps to his own ruin.”--“From such evils may Heaven protect me!” answered Sir Otto; “and next to the protection of Heaven, methinks it is your counsels that would most aid me in this world!”--The lady clasped her hands as Sir Otto had done when he pronounced these words; she looked out tranquilly on the pleasant moonlight; and the knights were aware, that, though she did not speak audibly, she was then engaged in fervent orisons.