rom
its mansion without pain!"

The wish of the fairy was fulfilled.

CHAPTER XV. THE BANKS OF THE RHINE.--FROM THE DRACHENFELS TO BROHL.--AN
INCIDENT THAT SUFFICES IN THIS TALE FOR AN EPOCH.

FROM the Drachenfels commences the true glory of the Rhine; and once
more Gertrude's eyes conquered the languor that crept gradually over
them as she gazed on the banks around.

Fair blew the breeze, and freshly curled the waters; and Gertrude did
not feel the vulture that had fixed its talons within her breast. The
Rhine widens, like a broad lake, between the Drachenfels and Unkel;
villages are scattered over the extended plain on the left; on the right
is the Isle of Werth and the houses of Oberwinter; the hills are covered
with vines; and still Gertrude turned back with a lingering gaze to the
lofty crest of the Seven Hills.

On, on--and the spires of Unkel rose above a curve in the banks, and
on the opposite shore stretched those wondrous basaltic columns which
extend to the middle of the river, and when the Rhine runs low, you
may see them like an engulfed city beneath the waves. You then view the
ruins of Okkenfels, and hear the voice of the pastoral Gasbach pouring
its waters into the Rhine. From amidst the clefts of the rocks the vine
peeps luxuriantly forth, and gives a richness and colouring to what
Nature, left to herself, intended for the stern.

"But turn your eye backward to the right," said Trevylyan; "those banks
were formerly the special haunt of the bold robbers of the Rhine, and
from amidst the entangled brakes that then covered the ragged cliffs
they rushed upon their prey. In the gloomy canvas of those feudal days
what vigorous and mighty images were crowded! A robber's life amidst
these mountains, and beside this mountain stream, must have been the
very poetry of the spot carried into action."

They rested at Brohl, a small town between two mountains. On the summit
of one you see the gray remains of Rheinech. There is something weird
and preternatural about the aspect of this place; its soil betrays signs
that in the former ages (from which even tradition is fast fading away)
some volcano here exhausted its fires. The stratum of the earth is black
and pitchy, and the springs beneath it are of a dark and graveolent
water. Here the stream of the Brohlbach falls into the Rhine, and in
a valley rich with oak and pine, and full of caverns, which are not
without their traditionary inmates, stands the ca