ight over his glass, or whether he was taking a
draught at this early hour of the morning to recruit his strength and
spirits.

He saluted the young man as he approached the table by a slight
inclination of the head, whilst a scarcely visible smile played about
his mouth. He pointed to a goblet on the table and a stool by his side.
Bertha understanding the hint, filled it with wine, and presented it to
her lover, with that grace which marked every thing she did. Albert
seated himself beside the old man, and drank.

The latter drew his chair near to him, and said in a low tone of voice,
"I fear our affairs are in a bad way!"

"Have you had any intelligence?" asked Albert, in the same low tone.

"A peasant told me this morning, that Tuebingen had treated with the
League last evening."

"Good heavens!" said Albert, involuntarily.

"Keep quiet, and do not wake him! he will learn it soon enough,"
replied the old man, pointing to the other side of the room.

The young man looked that way. At one of the side windows, looking
towards the deep ravine, sat the exile asleep; his arm, resting on the
ledge of the window, supported his careworn brow. His grey cloak had
partly fallen off his shoulder, and discovered a worn-out leather
jerkin, in which his powerful frame was encased. His curly hair hung
down over his temples in disorder, and a few tufts of his smooth beard
were visible from under his hand. The large dog lay at his feet, his
head resting on his master's foot, looking up at him with faithful eyes
and watching every motion of his features.

"He sleeps," said the old man, and repressed a starting tear. "He
breathes light; oh! that his dreams may be comforting. The reality of
life to him is melancholy indeed! Who can help wishing he may remain
unconscious of it awhile?"

"His is a hard fate!" replied Albert, casting his eye at the sleeping
man. "Driven from house and home--an outcast--a price offered to any
villain who chooses to level his gun at him--under the earth by day,
and by night wandering about like a thief! Truly, it is hard; and all
this because he is faithful to his lord!"

"That man has suffered much in his lifetime," said Lichtenstein, with a
serious look. "I have known him from the days of his childhood, and I
can vouch for his having always wished to do what is right and just.
The means indeed he applied to attain his object were at times not
fitted to further his purpose; on other occasions his