is trained to fight in
ranks and companies. Tradition and chronicles have brought down the
exploits of this noble personage to our times, and who can help calling
to mind the heroes of Homer, when they read the following description
of this man:--"He had such strength in his limbs, that with the middle
finger of his right hand he could displace the strongest man from his
seat, let him hold himself as firm as he might; he could seize the
bridle of a horse on the full gallop, and stop him; and he could carry
alone, from one place to another, the largest gun and battering ram of
the time." Breitenstein conducted the young man to him.

"Who do you bring us now, Hans?" said George von Fronsberg, as he
noticed the well-grown youth with interest.

"Look at him well, noble sir," answered Breitenstein, "and you will not
fall to recognise the house whence he sprung."

The general regarded him with still greater attention; old Truchses von
Waldburg also run his scrutinizing eye over his person. Albert was
timid and shy before these great men; but whether it was that the
friendly, frank manner of Fronsberg gave him confidence, or whether he
felt how important that moment was to his future prospects, he overcame
the shame of being put out of countenance by the looks of so many
renowned men, and faced them with determination and courage.

"I recognise you at once by that look," said Fronsberg, and gave him
his hand: "you are a Sturmfeder."

"Albert von Sturmfeder," answered the young man: "my father was
Burkhardt Sturmfeder; he fell by your side in Italy: so it has been
told me."

"He was a brave man," said the general, whose eye rested thoughtfully
on Albert's features, "he remained faithful by my side in many a warm
day of battle, and fell covered with glory and honour in defence of my
person. And you," he added, "have you determined to follow his steps?
Methinks you have left your nest somewhat early, for you are scarcely
fledged."

Waldburg, a weather-beaten, hard featured old soldier, interrupted
Fronsberg, and said, with a gruff, surly voice, "I suppose that young
bird is seeking a few flocks of wool to repair the dilapidated family
nest."

This rude allusion to the ruined castle of his ancestors, called up a
crimson blush on the cheek of the young man. He had never been ashamed
of his poverty, but these words sounded so full of scorn and insult
that he felt himself, for the first time, really poor, as he stood
befo