country in which Hallberg
found himself was wild and mountainous, but possessed all the charms and
peculiarities of "far off" districts--simple, hospitable manners,
old-fashioned customs, many tales and legends which arise from the
credulity of the mountaineers, who invariably lean toward the marvelous,
and love to people the wild solitudes with invisible beings.

Ferdinand had soon, without seeking for it, made acquaintance with
several respectable families in the town; and, as it generally happens
in such cases, he had become quite domesticated in the best country
houses in the neighborhood; and the well-mannered, handsome, and
agreeable youth was welcomed every where. The simple, patriarchal life
in these old mansions and castles--the cordiality of the people, the
wild, picturesque scenery, nay, the very legends themselves were
entirely to Hallberg's taste. He adapted himself easily to his new mode
of life, but his heart remained tranquil. This could not last. Before
half a year had passed, the battalion to which he belonged was ordered
to another station, and he had to part with many friends. The first
letter which he wrote after this change, bore the impression of
impatience at the breaking up of a happy time. Edward found this natural
enough; but he was surprised in the following letters to detect signs
of a disturbed and desultory state of mind, wholly foreign to his
friend's nature. The riddle was soon solved. Ferdinand's heart was
touched for the first time, and, perhaps, because the impression had
been made late, it was all the deeper. Unfavorable circumstances opposed
themselves to his hopes: the young lady was of an ancient family, rich,
and betrothed since her childhood to a relation, who was expected
shortly to arrive in order to claim her promised hand. Notwithstanding
this engagement, Ferdinand and the young girl had become sincerely
attached to each other, and had both resolved to dare every thing with
the hope of being united. They pledged their troth in secret; the
darkest mystery enveloped not only their plans, but their affections;
and as secrecy was necessary to the advancement of their projects.
Ferdinand entreated his friend to forgive him if he did not intrust his
whole secret to a sheet of paper that had at least sixty miles to
travel, and which must pass through so many hands. It was impossible
from his letter to guess the name of the person or the place in
question. "You know that I love," h