half-hour's walk from them; the road parted at the spot of their
last halt, and a foot-path to the left conducted to a village. At this
point of separation, the girl said: "That is Pfullingen which you see
yonder, from whence any child will show you the road to Lichtenstein."

"How! are you going to leave me already?" asked Albert, who was so much
charmed with the cheerful conversation of his companion, that the
thought of parting from her took him by surprise. "Will you not come at
least as far as Pfullingen, where you can rest yourself, and have some
refreshment? You don't intend to return home immediately?"

The girl endeavoured to look merry and unconcerned; but she could not
conceal an expression about her mouth and eye, which betrayed the pain
she felt at parting from her guest, whose presence might have been much
dearer to her than she was, perhaps, altogether aware of. "I must leave
you here, sir," she said, "much as I would willingly go on with you;
but my mother will have it so; I have a cousin in that village on the
hill, where I will remain to-day, and return to Hardt to-morrow. And
now may God and the Holy Virgin protect you, and all the Saints take
you under their care! Remember me to my father, should you meet him;
and," she added with a smile, as she quickly dried a tear, "give my
respects to the lady also whom you love."

"Thanks, many thanks, Barbelle," replied Albert, as he took her hand to
wish her goodbye; "I can never repay your faithful care of me; but when
you get home, look into the carved chest, where you will find something
which will, perhaps, provide you with a new bodice or petticoat for
Sunday. And when you put it on for the first time, and your true love
kisses you, then think of Albert von Sturmfeder."

The young man gave his horse the spur, and trotted across the green
plain towards the town. When he had gone about two hundred paces, he
turned around to have one more look at his young guide. There she stood
on the same spot where he had left her, watching him as he increased
his distance from her, with her hands up to her eyes; but whether to
guard them from the rays of the sun, as she followed him with her look,
or whether to wipe away the tear which stood on the brink of her eyelid
as they parted, Albert could not precisely tell.

He was soon at the gate of the town, and, feeling tired and thirsty,
inquired where the best inn was? He was shown a small gloomy-looking
house, having