rake of the
croupier; others chatted of the world of politics and fashion; and a
few, with that love of the picturesque the taste for painting engenders,
were admiring the changeful effects of passing clouds on the landscape,
and pointing out spots of peculiar beauty and sublimity.

"How well the Alten Schloss looks, with that mass of shadow on it,"
remarked a young man to a fair and delicate-looking girl beside him;
"and see how the weeping ash waves over the old walls, like a banner."

"And look!" cried she, "mark that little procession that is slowly
winding up the pathway,--what effect a few figures give to the scene, as
they appear and disappear with each turning of the road. Some pilgrimage
to a holy shrine, I fancy."

"No; it is a funeral. I can mark what Shelley calls the step of the
bearers 'heavy and slow;' and if you listen, you'll catch the sound of
the death-bell."

"It's quite a picture, I declare," said she. "I wish I had brought my
sketch-book."

And so it is ever! The sorrows that are rending some hearts in twain are
but as objects of picturesque effect to others. And even the young and
the tender-minded learn to look on the calamities that touch them not,
as things of mere artistic meaning.

Up that steep road, over rock and rugged stone, brushing between the
tangled briers, or with difficulty being turned around some sharp angle,
was now borne the corpse of him who had so often wended the same path on
his homeward way. Four peasants carried the coffin, which was followed
by Nelly and old Andy; Hans, from a sense of respect, walking behind
them. It was a long and arduous ascent, and they were often obliged to
halt and take breath; and at such times Nelly would kneel down beside
the coffin and pray. The sufferings of the last two days had left deep
traces on her features, which had lost every tinge of color. Her eyes,
too, were deep-set and heavy; but in the elevated expression of her brow
at moments, and the compression of her lips, might be seen the energy of
one who had a firm purpose, and was resolved to carry it through.

"Sit down and rest yourself, Fraeulein," said Hans, as he saw that she
faltered in her step. "We are yet far from the top."

"I will rest at the fountain," said she, faintly. "It was a favorite
spot of his." And they moved slowly on once more.

The fountain was a little well, carved in the native rock, around which
some rude seats were also fashioned, the whole sheltere