experienced knights, having under them two hundred of
the bravest of his countrymen. The position of this fortress was
strong, and being well supplied with ammunition and provisions, all
eyes in Germany looked to its fate with anxiety; for, Tuebingen being a
town of great repute in those days, it was thought that if it could but
hold out until the Duke relieved it, he might then be able to
re-conquer the country. The League, to frustrate their enemy's last
hope, now marched against it with their whole force. The heavy steps of
armed bodies of men sounded through the forests in their march towards
the place; the vallies of the Neckar trembled under the tread of
cavalry; the artillery, with the baggage and ammunition waggons, and
all the apparatus for a long siege, which was brought with the army,
left deep ruts in the fields as a witness of the coming event.

Albert von Sturmfeder knew nothing of the progress of the war. A deep
but sweet slumber, like a powerful enchantment, suspended the
operations of his faculties for a long time. He suffered no
inconvenience in this state of stupor, but resembled a child who,
sleeping on the breast of its mother, occasionally opens its eyes to
gaze at a world it knows not, and closes them again for a time.
Pleasing dreams of better days soothed his situation, a placid smile
often played upon his pale countenance, and comforted those who nursed
him with tender solicitude.

We will now introduce the reader to the humble cottage, which had
received him with hospitality, and treated him with tender care the day
after he had been wounded.

The morning sun of this day threw its enlivening rays on the round
frame of a small window, and illumined the largest room of a needy
peasant's house. Though the furniture bespoke poverty, cleanliness and
order reigned throughout. A large oaken table stood in one corner of
the room, on two sides of which were placed wooden benches. A carved
chest, painted with bright colours, contained, as was generally the
case in such habitations, the Sunday wardrobe of the inhabitants, and
fine linen spun by themselves; around the dark wainscot of the walls
was a shelf, upon which were ranged well polished cans, goblets, and
smoothing irons, earthen utensils with mottos in verse painted on them,
and all kinds of musical instruments, such as cymbals, hautboys, and a
guitar, hung on the walls. At the further end of the room stood a
bedstead, with cotton curtains, of