tables were placed. A single light, here and
there, shewed where one or two guests were seated; but all so still and
silently, that one would have thought the place deserted. It seemed as
if the great charm was that mellow air softened by silence, for none
spoke.

I walked for some time through the alleys, and at last sat down to rest
myself at a little table, over which a wide-leaved fig-tree spread its
dark canopy.

At first I did not remark that another person was seated near the table;
but as my eyes became more accustomed to the shade, I descried a figure
opposite to me, and immediately rising, I offered my apology in German
for intruding. He replied in French, by politely requesting I would be
seated; and the tone and manner of his words induced me to comply.

We soon fell into conversation; and although I could barely distinguish
his shadow as the night fell thicker, I recognised that he was an old
man; his accent proclaimed him to be French. We chatted away, the topics
ranging, with that wilfulness conversation always inclines to, from the
"Wein-cur "--the "Grape cure"--for which Meran is celebrated, to the
present condition and the past grandeur of the ancient town. With its
bygone history my companion seemed well acquainted, and narrated with
considerable skill some of its illustrious passages, concluding one by
saying, "Here, in this very garden, on a summer morning of 1342, the
Emperor and the Margrave of Brandenburg sat at breakfast, when a herald
came to announce the advance of the procession with the future bride of
the Duke, Margaretta, while the Bishops of Augsburg and Regensberg,
and all the chivalry of the Tyrol, rode beside and around her. In
yonder little chapel, where a light now glitters over a shrine, was the
betrothal performed. From that day forth Tyrol was Austrian. Of all this
gorgeous festivity, nothing remains but an iron horse-shoe nailed to
the chapel door. The priest who performed the betrothal somewhat
indiscreetly suggested that, with such a dowry as the bridegroom
received, he might well be generous towards the Church; on which the
Duke, a man of immense personal strength, at once stooped down and
wrenched a fore-shoe from the bride's white palfrey, saying, with
sarcastic bitterness, 'Here, I give thee iron for stone!' in allusion to
the rocks and precipices of the Tyrol land.

"Ungratefully spoken at the time," continued the stranger, "and equally
false as a prophecy. These wild