IX.:

[Footnote 1: Three stag horns, the two upper ones having four ends and
the lower one three, were the ancient arms of Wuertemberg.]

CHAPTER XX.

See that arrowy crag so tapering rise,
From the depths of that valley so sweet;
There Lichtenstein's fort rears her head to the skies,
And smiles on the world at her feet.
SCHWAB.

When the fifer of Hardt awakened Albert in the morning, the youth was
at first puzzled to recollect where he was, and to recognize the
objects about him; but he soon came to his senses, and the remembrance
of the last evening's occurrences. He returned the hearty shake of the
hand with which the exile saluted him, who said, "Although it would
give me great pleasure to detain you some few days with me, yet I would
rather advise you to proceed at once to Lichtenstein, if you wish to
have a hot breakfast. I cannot, alas! prepare such in my cavern, for we
never dare make a fire, lest the smoke betray our position."

Albert consented to his proposal, and thanked him for his night's
lodging. "I may truly say," he answered, "that I never passed a night
more to my satisfaction, than I have done in this place. A deep-felt,
though melancholy, charm would seem to hallow the society of friends in
such a situation as this, and I would not have exchanged my abode among
these rocky walls, for the most splendid apartment of a ducal palace."

"Yes, indeed, secure from persecution, and among friends, when the
glass circulates freely, banishment has its charms," replied the exile;
"but when I sit here, day after day, in solitude, brooding over my
calamities, my heart yearning for liberty, and my eye wearied with the
sameness of these subterranean splendours, then it is I drink the full
cup of misery. And then again, my ear is deafened with the unceasing
monotonous murmur of these waters, dripping drop after drop from the
rocks! Jealous of their freedom, my imagination follows their course
through the depths below, whence they escape to swell the running
stream, whose gentle ripple, with the note of the cheerful lark, would
seem to join chorus in the universal praise."

"My poor friend, I pity thee! yes, indeed, this solitary life must be
terrible," said Albert.

"Nevertheless," continued the other, raising himself up, "I reckon
myself happy to have found this asy