tics at that time in Ulm, expatiating how
you intended to govern Wuertemberg? How stands the case now?"

"Well, has it not turned out as I said?" replied the scribe, with a
sagacious look; "I recollect, as if it were but yesterday, that I
prophesied the Swiss would return home; that we should gain the hearts
of the country people, and that the citizens would open the gates to
us."

"Yes, yes! and you helped to accomplish all this," laughed Albert,
"when you were carried to the field in a litter: but you also
prophesied that the Duke would never be able to return to his country,
and now you see he sits quietly and unmolested in his castle."

"Not so quiet as you may think. For your sake and his, I wish with all
my heart he may hold his country. The war has done me no good, for the
great men take everything for themselves, only leaving us subordinates
the honour of having our heads cut off in the cause of the League. But
though I wish him success, believe me, his affairs are not in the
prosperous state you imagine. The governor and council who fled to
Esslingen upon your arrival have petitioned the Emperor and Empire for
assistance; the League is again in motion; and a fresh army is already
assembling at Ulm."

"All talk,--nothing else," replied Albert; "I know for certain, that a
reconciliation may take place between the Duke and Bavaria."

"Yes; but there is a great difference between _may_ and _will_ take
place: thereby hangs many a difficult crotchet to unravel. But what do
I see? you are not going to put that old rag of a scarf over your new
wedding dress? they will not match together, my dear cousin."

The bridegroom regarded the scarf with a look of intense interest. "You
don't understand," he replied, "why I set such a value upon it. It was
Bertha's first present; she worked it secretly by night, in her room,
when the news came that she was soon to leave Tuebingen. It was my only
consolation when I was absent from her, and therefore I will not fail
to wear it on the happiest day of my life."

"Well, do as you please, in God's name, wear it! And now put on your
cap, and be quick with the mantle, for they are beginning to ring the
bells of the church. Beware of making the bride wait too long!"

The friendly scribe stood before the young man again, and minutely
examined his dress with the eye of a connoisseur. He drew a buckle a
little tighter here, he altered a plait of his mantle there, raised a
feather of