ommand perhaps a more
extended view, but such a rich combination of the picturesque and the
sublime it would be difficult to find elsewhere. Look at the rich corn
fields, the woods of fruit trees, and a little lower down there, where
the hill assumes a blueish tinge, that garden of vines! I have never
yet envied a prince; but to stand here, and look over those hills, and
say this is mine, would be the height of my ambition!"

A deep sigh close to them, started the young couple from their
observations. They turned round, and perceived the exile standing at
the window a few paces from them. He appeared to view the country with
a wild look, which made Albert uncertain whether the conversation he
had just had with Bertha, or the thought of his own forlorn state, had
troubled his mind.

He saluted the young man, and offered him his hand, and turning to the
lord of the castle, asked him, "If a messenger had arrived?"
"Schweinsberg is not yet returned," he answered.

The exile retired again to the window in silence. Bertha filled him a
goblet of wine. "Be of good courage," she said, "and don't look in so
disconsolate a manner over the country. Drink this wine, it is good old
Wuertemberger, and grows under that blue mountain."

"We cannot remain long melancholy," he answered, and turned to Albert
with a forced smile, "when the sun shines so cheerfully over
Wuertemberg, and Heaven's mildness beams in the eye of one of her
fairest maidens? Is it not so, young man? what is the sight of these
hills and vallies, compared to the gleam of such eyes and the fidelity
of true hearts? take your glass, and let us drink to them! Nothing is
irrevocably lost so long as we possess such treasures: here's to 'Good
Wuertemberg for ever!'"

"Good Wuertemberg for ever," replied Albert, and touched glasses. The
exile was going to say something more, when the old watchman entered
with a face full of importance. "There are two pedlars before the
castle, and demand admittance," he announced.

"It's them! it's them!" cried the exile and old Lichtenstein in the
same breath, and added, "shew them up."

The servant withdrew. An anxious moment followed the announcement. No
one said a word. The knight of Lichtenstein looked as if he could
pierce the door with the eye of impatience. The exile endeavoured to
conceal his anxiety, but the rapid changes on his expressive features
indicated clearly that his whole being was in a state of excitement. At
len