indly by the hand, answered, "I have long remarked,
that your heart is ready to burst with impatience in consequence of
your being denied a share in our labours and cares; but only have a
little more patience; perhaps one day longer may decide many important
subjects. What is the use of tormenting you with the uncertain
intelligence which our messengers have lately brought? Your ardent
young mind is not fitted to unmask intrigue, or to counteract artifice.
When the crisis approaches upon which we can base our plans with
safety, believe me you shall be a welcome member in council and action.
All you need know at present is, that our circumstances are neither
good nor bad, but that we shall soon be obliged to act with increased
decision."

Albert gave the old man due credit for his reserve, but still he was
anything but satisfied with his answer. He could not even learn the
name of the exile, of whom Bertha had inquired the night preceding,
when he came to the castle as usual, if he would allow her to make him
known to their guest, but the only answer he gave was, "The proper
moment is not yet arrived."

There was still another circumstance which offended Albert's _amour
propre_. He had often made known to the knight of Lichtenstein the
intense interest he took in the welfare of the exile, and what
heartfelt pleasure it would give him to cultivate his further
acquaintance; nevertheless, he had never once been invited to join the
nocturnal visit of the mysterious guest. He was too proud to press the
subject; he waited night after night in the expectation of being called
in to speak to the man, but he waited in vain. He resolved therefore to
see the stranger some night without an invitation, and for this purpose
he sought a fitting opportunity. His room, which he was obliged to
enter every night regularly at eight o'clock, overlooked the valley
below, and was situated immediately opposite to the side on which the
bridge was placed. It was therefore out of the question to see him
coming from this position. The large room on the second floor, which
was not far from his own, was locked every night, and consequently
debarred him from satisfying his curiosity from thence. On the landing
place, to which the doors of the different rooms led, there were indeed
two windows looking towards the bridge, but as they were grated and
stood high, the view from them was confined to the distant country, and
there was no possibility of obta