he land of Germany has always been famous for its store of wonderful songs and legends. Its poets of olden days, who were known as the Minnesinger, used to wander round the country singing or reciting these tales and everywhere they went they were sure of a warm welcome. The "Golden Legend" is one of these old stories, and runs as follows:

Lucifer, who was once one of the good angels, had been cast out of Heaven for the sin of pride. He gathered all the spirits of evil around him and made himself their leader. His one desire now was to do harm to all mankind and, by putting wicked thoughts into men's minds, make them themselves do evil so that he might grieve the good angels and thus take revenge for the punishment which had been inflicted on him.

Among other wicked deeds he sought to tear down the spire of Strasburg Cathedral, but was defeated by the good spirits, who kept unceasing watch and ward over the holy place. Baffled in this attempt, Lucifer betook himself to a castle on the Rhine, the dwelling of young Prince Henry of Hoheneck. Prince though he was, his lot was a most unhappy one, for he was suffering from a deadly disease which the most famous physicians had been unable to cure. Ill and restless, Prince Henry was sitting alone at midnight in a tower of his castle, when suddenly there came a flash of lightning, and Lucifer, disguised as a doctor, stood before him.

"All hail, Prince Henry!" said the stranger.

"Who are you," asked the Prince, "and what may be your purpose in coming hither?"

"I am a traveling physician," replied the cunning spirit, "and I can cure all diseases."

"But not mine," said Prince Henry, mournfully. "I have consulted almost every famous doctor, but the case is quite beyond their science. Even the learned doctors of Salerno have sent me back word that they know of no cure for a malady like this save one, which from its very nature is impossible."

"What is this mysterious remedy?"

"Read, and you shall see," answered the Prince, handing Lucifer a scroll on which were these words:

"A strange remedy, indeed," said the false physician, "and one which you will never be able to try. However, I have with me here a wonderful draught which cures all pain—will you not taste it?"

Prince Henry hesitated, but finally drank from the crystal flask which Lucifer gave him. The evil spirit disappeared with mocking laughter and Prince Henry fell to the ground in a swoon. The magic draught which the false doctor had given him was nothing but an enchantment destined to work still more harm on the victim. The next morning the unfortunate Prince was found by his attendants stretched on the floor of the tower chamber and seemingly lifeless. When he began to recover, further troubles were in store for him. He was summoned to appear in church before a council of priests, who pronounced him to be a leper and an outcast, and decreed that henceforth he was to be looked upon as one dead. The burial service was read over him and then Prince Henry, clothed in a cloak of hodden gray, and carrying a beggar's wallet, was thrust from the door of the church into perpetual banishment.

A lonely exile, Prince Henry wandered through the land till he came to a farm in the Odenwald, where dwelt the worthy peasant Gottlieb, with his wife, Dame Ursula, and his daughter, Elsie, a beautiful maiden of fifteen summers. These good people took compassion on their Prince and begged him to dwell with them and share all they had. Glad to find a resting-place among kindly folk, the Prince stayed for some months at the farm, but each day he seemed to become a little weaker. The disease from which he was suffering had made such rapid progress that he felt his death rapidly drawing near. In these days of weakness and despair the Prince tried to console himself by reading the old legends, and watching Elsie as she flitted about the garden, gathering flowers to lay at the shrine of her favorite saint. He would read aloud to her, and she would give him some of her flowers and try in her gentle way to make her dear Prince forget his heavy troubles.

Gradually Elsie grew to love the Prince with such devotion that it seemed to her that no task could be too difficult, no sacrifice too great for her to make, if only she could save his life. And then the thought suddenly came to her that she would make the greatest sacrifice of all and give her life, so that the cure of which the learned doctors of Salerno had written might be carried out.

Filled with this resolve, she told her father and mother, who wept bitterly and sought by every means in their power to dissuade her, but all in vain. Then Elsie sought the Prince and begged him to allow her to do this for him. His life, she said, was valuable to his country and his people, for he would be restored to health and rule over them again, whereas she was but a poor peasant girl and her place could easily be filled.

Prince Henry struggled for some time against the temptation to accept the sacrifice of this young life, and finally determined to go to the village church and ask the advice of the priest in the matter. But the Prince delayed his coming, and the priest had to leave the church at sunset and go forth to visit the sick and needy. Lucifer, who was watching his opportunity, slipped into the church, disguised this time as a priest, and took his seat in the confessional. When the Prince at length appeared and besought the priest to tell him whether he might justly allow the maiden to give her life for his, instead of showing him how wicked such an action would be and that it would be far better in God's eyes that he should bear his sufferings uncomplainingly, the evil spirit persuaded the wavering youth that the deed was right and necessary and had the Church's full approval.

Heedless of the voice of his good angel, which whispered to his conscience that he was doing wrong, the Prince returned to the farm and announced that he was prepared to accept the divine gift of life from Elsie's hands. One request only did the maiden make, that, on their pilgrimage to Salerno, neither by word nor deed should Prince Henry attempt to dissuade her from her purpose. Elsie had no fear of death and, when she had taken a last farewell of her grief-stricken parents, the Prince set out with her on their long journey.

Easter Sunday found them in Strasburg, where the Prince tarried with Elsie in order that they might witness the Miracle Play, which was acted within the cathedral. After that, the next stage of their journey brought them to Hirschau, where Prince Henry sought a night's shelter at the monastery, after having placed Elsie under the charge of the Abbess Irmingard in the nunnery a short distance away.

Lucifer, ever watchful lest the Prince should escape from his evil influence, was here too. Disguised as a monk, he mingled with the brethren at the convent and stirred up strife among them, so that the Abbot grew very wrathful and inflicted severe penances on all the offenders.

After vespers had been sung, the monks retired, but one lingered, for he was blind and walked slowly, led by a little chorister. As he drew near, Prince Henry started back in amazement.

"Do my eyes deceive me in this dim light," he exclaimed, "or can this be Count Hugo of the Rhine, my most deadly foe?"

The old monk, who had come so close that he could hear Prince Henry's words, replied sadly: "Count Hugo of the Rhine was once my name, but now you behold the wreck of my former self. My pride and headstrong will have brought me to this plight. Deserted by my friends, defeated by my enemies, alone and blind, I heard a voice call me by name and say: 'Kneel down and pray.' So now you behold me a member of the holy brotherhood, ever striving by prayer and repentance to blot out the remembrance of my evil deeds. You, who by your voice I know to be Prince Henry of Hoheneck, are one of those who have most cause to hate me. Curse and revile me if you will; I will bear it patiently."

"We both have erred," sadly answered the Prince, "but the hand of God has chastened us both. Let us therefore pray for forgiveness together."

Hand in hand the two former enemies humbly knelt in prayer, and Lucifer, himself the spirit of arrogance and pride, slunk away, powerless to do evil to those who truly repent of their sins.

Meanwhile, Elsie sat with the Abbess Irmingard in the moonlight, while the latter told the sad story of her life to her young companion.

"Years ago, when I was a maiden freshly returned from the convent school, wandering Minnesinger used to come to my father's castle where they were always made welcome. The noblest and most gallant of all these bards was Walter of the Vogelweid; his voice was the sweetest and his songs the most beautiful. We looked on each other and loved, but a foreign prince sought my hand and my stern father bade me wed him and forget the wandering minstrel. I refused to be the bride of any other than Walter. 'Either you obey me,' said my father, 'or you shall become a nun and die unwed.' That very night I secretly left the castle and stole away with my lover. We went swiftly on horseback through the forest, but our flight was soon discovered—we were pursued and overtaken. I remember nothing more till I awoke in my own room, ill with a raging fever. When I recovered, I was sent to this nunnery and the convent gates, clanging behind me, seemed to be those of a prison. But all this was many years ago and now I am content and have found peace.

"I have told thee this tale," said the Abbess to Elsie, "for I feel strangely drawn to thee. In thy young life there is too a tale of mystery and pain, and, as my way has been made clear, so shall be thine."

The next day Elsie and the Prince bade farewell to their kindly hosts and traveled, as swiftly as horses could carry them, through Germany and Switzerland. After leaving Lucerne they hired a trusty guide to lead them through the mountain passes, which were steep and dangerous. On one part of the journey they had to cross a single arch bridge, which spanned a terrible abyss, and their guide told them the story of how it came to be built.

"For years and years people had tried in vain to make a bridge at this point, but all their efforts had been fruitless, for whatever was built by day the devil swept away at night. At last a holy abbot built this one with a single arch and made a compact with the evil one that it should be allowed to stand, on the condition that the first living thing which crossed it should be surrendered into his clutches. When the bridge was completed, the abbot, standing at one end, threw a loaf of bread across, which a hungry dog sprang after, and the rocks re-echoed with laughter to see the devil thus defeated."

"Defeated," sneered Lucifer, who was standing beneath the bridge. "It was for journeys and crimes like this that I allowed the bridge to stand!"

Unconscious that Lucifer was dogging their steps, the princely train finished its journey through Italy in safety, took ship at Genoa, and reached the town of Salerno, renowned for its learned doctors and its schools.

Entering the town, Prince Henry inquired for Friar Angelo, and Lucifer, appearing before him in fresh disguise, said: "He stands before you."

"You know, then, on what errand I have come," said the Prince. "I am Prince Henry of Hoheneck and this is the maiden I spoke of in my letters."

"This is a grave business, and we must not be over-hasty," answered the crafty Lucifer. "Does the maiden consent to this of her own free will?"

"No prayers or entreaties can dissuade her."

"Strange, indeed. Have you thought well over it?" asked Lucifer, turning to Elsie.

"I do not come here to argue, but to die," replied Elsie. "Your business is not to question but to kill me, and I am ready."

With a last farewell to Prince Henry and her weeping attendants, Elsie followed Lucifer into a gloomy building. The Prince tried to follow them, but Lucifer thrust him back and barred the door. Suddenly the Prince's better angel prevailed and he realized what a vile thing it was that he should purchase health and strength at such a cost. Sooner would he himself die a lingering death than that harm should come to Elsie, who had grown so dear to him during their long journey together. Shouting to his men to aid him, he burst open the door and rushed in to save her.

A few weeks later, Dame Ursula was sitting in her cottage spinning and thinking sadly of her child's untimely death, when a forester stopped at the farm and inquired for Gottlieb.

"I am his wife," said the dame.

"Then I have news for you. The Prince is strong and well again."

"Then Elsie, my poor child, is dead," she rejoined, mournfully.

"It is true that your daughter is no longer the humble peasant she once was."

"Nay, do not mock a mother's agony, and tell me truly what has befallen my child," she implored.

Then the forester told Ursula his wonderful news; how at Salerno the Prince's nobler self had prevailed, and the maiden's life had been spared, whereupon a miracle had been worked on the Prince and he had straightway been healed.

"They call your daughter the Lady Alicia now," continued the messenger, "for the Prince made a vow in Salerno that he would wed no one but Elsie. At this very moment the Prince and his bride are sailing homeward down the Rhine in a splendid barge decked with banners, and all the people are gathered on the banks, shouting with joy."

Dame Ursula's raptures can be better imagined than described, and she rushed away to tell her husband the glad tidings, while the forester calmly sat down and helped himself to Gottlieb's supper.

And so we may leave the Prince and his young bride with the feeling that their wedded life proved to be a very happy one, for their love had been tried by pain and suffering, and a love which can conquer these is one which will endure.