d rays upon the rich forest of the Odenwald,
now just gleamed along the summits of the mountains. The baron mounted
the highest tower, and strained his eyes in hope of catching a distant
sight of the count and his attendants. Once he thought he beheld them;
the sounds of horns came floating from the valley, prolonged by the
mountain echoes. A number of horsemen were seen far below, slowly
advancing along the road; but when they had nearly reached the foot of
the mountain, they suddenly struck off in a different direction. The
last ray of sunshine departed--the bats began to flit by in the
twilight--the road grew dimmer and dimmer to the view; and nothing
appeared stirring in it but now and then a peasant lagging homeward
from his labor.

While the old castle at Landshort was in this state of perplexity, a
very interesting scene was transacting in a different part of the
Odenwald.

The young Count Von Altenburg was tranquilly pursuing his route in that
sober jog-trot way in which a man travels toward matrimony when his
friends have taken all the trouble and uncertainty of courtship off his
hands, and a bride is waiting for him, as certainly as a dinner at the
end of his journey. He had encountered at Wurtzburg a youthful companion
in arms with whom he had seen some service on the frontiers: Herman Von
Starkenfaust, one of the stoutest hands and worthiest hearts of German
chivalry, who was now returning from the army. His father's castle was
not far distant from the old fortress of Landshort, although an
hereditary feud rendered the families hostile, and strangers to each
other.

In the warm-hearted moment of recognition, the young friends related all
their past adventures and fortunes, and the count gave the whole history
of his intended nuptials with a young lady whom he had never seen, but
of whose charms he had received the most enrapturing descriptions.

As the route of the friends lay in the same direction, they agreed to
perform the rest of their journey together; and, that they might do it
the more leisurely, set off from Wurtzburg at an early hour, the count
having given directions for his retinue to follow and overtake him.

They beguiled their wayfaring with recollections of their military
scenes and adventures; but the count was apt to be a little tedious, now
and then, about the reputed charms of his bride and the felicity that
awaited him.

In this way they had entered among the mountains of the Odenw