eleven--in what inhospitable neighbourhood does he
reside, which obliges him to seek subsistence here at that unseasonable
hour? Now, mind, I am not to be trifled with!"

The eye of the fifer rested upon Albert with an expression almost
amounting to disdain: "Such gentlemen as you," he answered, "certainly
know little of the pain of banishment; you never experienced the horror
of being obliged to conceal yourself from the hand of the assassin,
shivering in damp caves, living in inhospitable caverns, among the
society of owls, deprived of a warm meal and a cheering glass! But come
with me, if you have an inclination,--the day does not break yet, and
you cannot go to Lichtenstein by night,--and I will lead you to the
habitation of the banished knight. You will not ask me again why he
visits the castle at midnight."

The appearance of the stranger had excited Albert's curiosity to such a
degree, that he willingly accepted the offer of the fifer of Hardt,
more particularly as he then would have the best opportunity of finding
out the truth or falsehood of his assertions. His guide took the bridle
of his horse, and led him down a narrow pathway in the wood. Albert
followed, after he had taken a farewell look at the windows of
Lichtenstein. They moved on in silence, which the young man made no
attempt to break, his thoughts being wholly taken up with the person
whom he was about to visit, and the strange occurrence which had just
taken place. He recollected to have heard somewhere or other that many
staunch partisans of the Duke had been driven from their possessions by
the fury of the League, and he thought that it must have been in the
inn at Pfullingen, where mention had been made of a knight of the name
of Maxx Stumpf von Schweinsberg, whom the confederates were in search
of. The bravery and extraordinary strength of this man was the common
talk of all Swabia and Franconia; and when Albert recalled to his mind
the powerful figure, the commanding countenance of his late heroic
opponent, he thought it could not possibly be any other than this
knight, one of Duke Ulerich's most faithful followers. The idea of
having had an affair with such a man, and to have measured swords with
him in fair fight, was particularly flattering to the _amour propre_ of
the young man, although the result had been left undecided.

So thought Albert von Sturmfeder on that night. And after a lapse of
many years, when his noble antagonist had bee