Good Friday and Easter Sunday passed away, and Albert von Sturmfeder
still remained at Lichtenstein. The knight of the castle had invited
him to continue his visit until the war should take some decided turn,
which would afford him an opportunity to render the Duke important
service. We may well suppose how willingly the young man accepted the
invitation.

To be under the same roof with his beloved, always near her,
occasionally to pass a few moments with her alone, and to be loved of
her father, were privileges his fondest dreams had never anticipated.
One circumstance only clouded these delights, and that was, a certain
gloomy anxiety of expression which at times hung about the brow of
Bertha's father. It appeared that he was not satisfied with the news
which he received from the Duke and the theatre of war. Messengers came
to the castle at different times of day, but they arrived and departed
without the knight imparting to his guest the contents of their
despatches. Sometimes Albert thought he even saw the fifer of Hardt in
the dusk of the evening gliding across the bridge. Hoping to get some
information from him, he once hurried down to meet him; but by the time
he reached the bridge, no trace of him was to be found.

Feeling somewhat hurt by being left in total ignorance of the state of
affairs, which he conceived he had a right to be informed of, after the
decided part he had taken, he could not help saying to Bertha, "I have
tendered my services unreservedly to the Duke's friends, in spite of
their cause not being very prosperous. The man in the cavern and the
knight of Lichtenstein have both shewn me much friendship and
confidence, but only up to a certain point. Why should I not know what
is going on at Tuebingen? Why should I not be made acquainted with the
Duke's operations? Am I only kept here as a forlorn hope? Why do they
disdain my advice?"

Bertha endeavoured to console him, and succeeded at times by mild
persuasion to drive such thoughts from his mind; but there were moments
when they returned with double force, and particularly when he saw her
father absorbed in the consideration of the state of affairs.

At length, on the evening of Easter day, he could contain himself no
longer, and put a direct question to the old knight, asking him if
their affairs were in danger, what was the state of the Duke's plans,
and whether his services would not be called into action soon? But his
patron, taking him k