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Updated: June 20, 2025
"The pudgy little man," said Jean one day, "somehow belongs to the old world of knights and crusaders Sintram and his companions. He will make it all real to Lucy when she marries him. He is like Ali Baba, standing at the shut door of the cave full of jewels and treasures with the key in his hand." "Those Arabian Night stories are simply silly," said Lucy severely.
Ah! my young sir, if you would only hear them! But you are afraid of me." "Afraid of you!" cried Sintram, with a wild laugh. "Many a better man than you has been so before now," muttered the little Master; "but they did not like being told of it any more than you do." "To prove that you are mistaken," said Sintram, "I will remain here with you till the moon stands high in the heavens.
Thereupon he left the room with the willing castellan, but he turned back to say, "Sir Knight and your esquire! take good care the while of my sick charge." Sintram and Rolf did according to the chaplain's desire: and when at length their cordials made the pilgrim open his eyes once again, the young knight said to him, with a friendly smile, "Seest thou? thou art come to visit me after all.
But nevertheless he came to himself, accepted Sintram's mediation, made amends for the injuries he had done, and returned gloomily to his castle. Sintram went back to the Rocks of the Moon. Such occurrences were frequent after that time.
Denys!" But scarce had this holy name passed the lips of the little Master, than he set up a howl of anguish, writhing himself with horrible contortions, and wringing his hands, and ended by disappearing in a storm of snow which then arose. Sintram planted his staff firmly in the ground, and stopped.
But who is there now to watch over and protect our poor Sintram?" "The prayer of his mother," answered Rolf. "Reverend sir, when the first dawn of day appears, as it does now, and when the morning breeze whispers through the glancing window, they ever bring to my mind the soft beaming eyes of my lady, and I again seem to hear the sweet tones of her voice.
Then Folko took him by the hand, led him towards a bright polished shield, and said very earnestly, "Look here at yourself, young knight!" At the first glance Sintram drew back horrified.
It must surely have all been a foreboding of our poor young Lord Sintram, whom I love as if he were my own child; and now the words of the weeping father in the Gospel often come into my mind, 'Lord, I believe; help Thou my unbelief; and something similar I may very likely have repeated to-day as a chant or a prayer.
"I bring a precious Christmas gift," said the priest. "After many sad years, hope of reconciliation and peace of conscience are returning to a noble, disturbed mind. This concerns thee, beloved pilgrim; and do thou, my Sintram, with a joyful trust in God, take encouragement and example from it."
At length the dawn of morning appeared through the windows of the hall, the fury of the storm was lulled, Biorn sank back powerless in slumber on his seat, peace and hope came to the inmates of the castle, and Sintram, pale and exhausted, went out to breathe the dewy air of the mild winter's morning before the castle-gates.
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