was astonished to hear it repeated by many sounds, which
appeared to be voices, coming from the whole length of the grotto:
"What is that?" he said, "are not we alone?"

"Those are my vassals,--spirits," answered the knight, smiling; "or, if
you prefer it, the echo, which responds to your kind wish. I have often
heard," he added, in a more serious tone, "in the days of my
prosperity, the success of my house cheered by hundreds of voices; but
I have never been more pleased, or more affected, than to have it drank
to, by my only guest, and re-echoed among the rocks of these lower
regions. Fill the cup, Hans, and drink, and if you can give us a good
toast, let's have it."

The fifer of Hardt filled the cup, and glanced a significant look at
Albert: "Here's to you, sir, and something which will please you
more,--the Lady of Lichtenstein!"

"Hollo, right so, right so! drink, sir, drink!" cried the exile, and
laughed so heartily, that the cavern appeared to tremble under it.
"Drink out every drop! long may she live, and bloom for you! Well done,
Hans! only look how the blood mounts up in the cheeks of our guest; how
his eyes sparkle, as if he actually kissed her beautiful lips. You need
not be bashful! I also have loved and wooed, and know the state of a
light merry heart of four-and-twenty, on such an occasion!"

"Poor man!" said Albert, touched by a sigh of deep feeling which
accompanied these last words.--"Have you loved and wooed also? and
perhaps been obliged to leave a beloved wife and children to lament and
bewail your present misfortunes!" As he said this he felt his cloak
pulled from behind, when turning around, the countryman winked to him,
as a sign, that it was a subject of all others the most painful to the
knight to hear. Albert immediately saw the effect it produced on his
features; and regretted having been the cause of giving him pain.

With a look of wild despair, and evidently trying to combat his
feeling, he merely said, "Frost in September destroys the beautiful
flower which blossoms in May, and we scarcely know how to account for
it. My children are left in the hands of rough but faithful nurses, who
will, with God's help, take care good of them till their father returns
home again." He was so much affected when he spoke these words, that it
required no small effort to enable him to resume his good humour. "Hans
is witness," he said, after a pause, "how often I have wished to see
you, Albert von St