to prevent its being seen.

wonderful history,

Whatever credit may be given to this

"I tell the tale as it was told to me!"

I must not omit to mention the picturesque beauties of Kissingen. In addition to numerous walks carried through the woods, which clothe a hill opposite the town, there is a ruined castle, on a mountain, within a mile, to which frequent expeditions are arranged. On one fine night it was made the scene of a midnight banquet, by a party of Russian Princesses, with attendant Princes, who went here by torchlight, thus realizing the old Eastern fictions, only that instead of an enchanted horse, they went on humdrum donkeys: with this exception, the old ruins, now lighted by the uncertain moon, now by the dancing gleam of the flambeaus, while gay music, and still gayer bursts of laughter rung within its walls, and resounded in the distance, gave full play to the romantic imaginations of those who viewed it from below, and knew not the cause of this unwonted movement. It seemed as if the ancient inhabitants of this oft beleaguered fort had agreed to reassemble, and hold yet one more revel in the scene of their former triumphs.

The society here is upon a very easy footing. The balls begin at five or six o'clock in the afternoon, and after their glass of pandur, they walk into the Kursaal (which is a very handsome building), in their morning dresses, and see the ladies spinning round in a valse, every now and then taking another turn in the arcades, and then resuming their places in the ball-room. There seems no restriction as to entrance, nor is any money paid, though a capital band is furnished for the dancers. Persons of all grades, provided they are well dressed, are allowed to come in, taking their places higher or lower in the room, according to their probable rank.

For the last fortnight of our stay here, we quite gave up dining at the rooms of the Great Bath Hotel; the discomforts of which have already been described. General, made the discovery of a restaurateur named Schuschlach where we could get the midday meal in comfort, nay, almost in luxury; and thither did we, in common with the rest of the English party, betake ourselves, and had every reason to be satisfied with him, and to recommend him to others; indeed, we afterwards heard that he became all the fashion among the English.

On Monday we left Kissengen, having stayed exactly three weeks, and found reason to dismiss all our prejudices against our landlord, Herr Streit. The lodgings are spacious, and, for the place, well furnished ; the attendants prompt and willing, and the charge less than at some houses, though more than at others-about a fair medium. The only objection to them was, that the passages were not so redolent of frankincense as we could have wished; a fault, I fear, common to most German houses.

Amidst the heartily expressed wishes of the whole assembled household, including a merry little maiden, our host's daughter, who had attended us with all the simple kindness of a German girl of her class in life, we set off for Bruckenau, the King of Bavaria's pet wateringplace, built and inhabited by himself, where, from all we had heard, we were led to expect much of interest and amusement.

FALKENSTEIN.

THE old Castle of Falkenstein, crowning the summit of an all but inaccessible rock, like an eagle's eyrie, and frowning on the fair fields beneath, presented a meet emblem of the churlish spirit of its lord. Sowered by disappointment, and by more than one bitter pang that had entered into his soul, he indulged in misanthropic retirement; and, if any hardy wight dared to face the forbidding aspect of the place, and climbed the narrow craggy footway that crept up the rock, looking at a distance like a gigantic wounded snake creeping to its lair, till it ended opposite the barred and nailed postern, he had no sooner demanded admission, and felt fully committed, than he wished himself down again. Those who had been bold enough to cross that ironbound threshold, returned with such awful accounts of the terrible old Baron, as made their hearers tremble; till at last no one, unless absolutely compelled by business, ventured to intrude on his privacy.

But if the Lord of Falkenstein was rude even to coarseness towards those who were unfortunate enough to gain access to his presence, this rugged casket of a castle of his contained a jewel of great price. His only child, the charming Irmengarde, was all that poets have sung, and painters realized. Fair as the fairest of the daughters of the Saxon, her high forehead, dazzling complexion, dark blue eyes, and golden hair, might have been chosen as a model for a Madonna by Raphael himself; though it is doubtful whether even his pencil could have portrayed the bewitching smile that played round her ripe lips, or have conveyed to the spectator the seraphic intelligence, married to purity and goodness of heart, that beamed in her lovely face. The silver tones of her voice produced upon her rough sire, the same effect that the music of the harp did upon Saul: the demon fled before those sweet sounds and that heavenly aspect, and the old man would press her to his bosom with that fulness of fondness, that fathers only feel. He seemed to live in constant dread of losing her, and nothing so much roused the violence of his angry temper, as the slightest intimation from any cavalier, however noble, powerful, rich, and good, that he should be proud to form an alliance with the house of Falkenstein.

Affairs connected with the neighbouring mines, which were his property, brought the young and gallant Kuno von Sayn to the castle. He saw Irmengarde, their eyes met, their hearts were penetrated. This, believe us, gentle reader, is the only true animal magnetism; and Kuno, though the sire had treated him very much as though he had been no better than a dog, determined within his secret soul that she should be his; and that he would, come what come might, return and demand her hand.

He did return. He was admitted.

The Lord of Falkenstein and his daughter were sitting in an oriel window, that looked out upon the surpassingly beautiful champaign beneath, rich with its verdure and its clustering orchards, and its shining river. Irmengarde rose as he entered. The father kept his seat, and appeared not to take the slightest notice of him. He felt more than embarrassed; the blood gave back upon his heart, and the surrounding

objects whirled before his darkening eyes-suddenly it rushed back to his face, and he stammered out,

"No castle in the world is so well situated as yours; what a pity that it is so difficult of access!"

"Who forced you to come hither?" growled the Baron. "Irmengarde."

"Irmengarde! Speak, girl-say that he lies."

Irmengarde blushed till her face and snowy neck were one glow of crimson; and the young knight-what will not love endure-who had staggered as if he had received a blow, without marking the brutality, that from any other man's lips would have been the harbinger of death to one or both, recovered himself and said, "I come to demand your daughter's hand."

The Lord of Falkenstein smiled-a bad omen with him-and there stood the two young lovers in the sunshine, their pulses beating thick; and there sat the grim old father in the shadow, with his grizzled beard and hair all disordered, and no one spoke word.

At length the Baron broke the silence that weighed upon the bosoms of Irmengarde and Kuno like lead.

"Knight," said he, "thou shalt have my daughter, but on one condition."

"Name it, only name it!" and the young man wept.

"You accept it-very well. Cause a road to be cut through the rock on which this castle stands, so that I may pass from the plain to my courtyard on horseback, and Irmengarde is yours;-but it must be finished to-night."

"To-night?"

"Yes, to-night."

Another interval of silence, broken by the father with, "Well-why don't you go? you will have enough to do."

The poor knight's soul was exceeding sorrowful, as, after one parting look at Irmengarde, he quitted that inhospitable roof.

He felt almost stunned; still a gleam of hope seemed to struggle through the gloom, and he went directly to his mines.

"Send Fritz hither," said he to one of his leather-clad labourers; and in a few moments, his faithful master-miner, with his soil-stained garments, his intelligent pale face, and large owl-like eyes, stood before him.

"Fritz," said Kuno, with some little hesitation, we have many strong hands here, and I have undertaken to make a horse-road up to the castle yonder, can it not be done?"

The large owl-like eyes opened wider; for, in truth, an idea crossed the mind of Fritz, that his young master had gone suddenly mad; and, indeed, the traces that the interview had left on his visage did not go far to contradict the notion that his question had engendered. After reflecting for about half a minute, Fritz said, "Yes."

66

My brave Fritz! call the men together-it must be finished to night." Nothing seems impossible to love.

"Mad, mad!" thought Fritz; but he only said, "My dear young master, three hundred miners, were they to work night and day, could not make such a road to that accursed nest on the rock in eight days!"

and casting a glance of mingled affection, respect, and regret at Kuno, he turned slowly away, and descended the gallery at the mouth of which the conversation had passed.

Kuno, sick at heart, sat down on a stone at the entrance of the gallery, his eye fixed on vacancy: hour after hour passed away, but he remarked not the lapse of time; the broad red disc of the sinking sun threw the shadow of the castellated rock far across the plain, as if it had been the gnomon of a huge dial telling of the declining day, and his dying hope; but Kuno heeded it not. The mist began to curl up from the low grounds, till it rose like a sea of fog-smoke, over the eddying surface of which forests and groups of trees showed like islands and islets in the pale light of the rising moon; but Kuno heeded it not, though it chilled all nature like a shroud, and the flowers folded up their petals as they shrank from its deadly influence. Suddenly a voice uttered words.

"Sir Knight," so spake the voice, "I heard what you said to Fritz : he is a fine old fellow, but I know more of the matter than he does.” Kuno looked, and saw shimmering through the mist right opposite to him, the figure of a very little old man with snowy beard and hair, clad in a miniature chief-miner's dress, which was richly ornamented. A sable cock's feather waved over his cap, and he held what seemed to be a bundle of twigs resting on one arm.

"Who art thou?" exclaimed Kuno.

"Your good folks are polite enough to call me the goblin of the mine-never heed that-it does not make them better nor me worse. We are not, indeed, quite so big as they are; but we are masters of our craft, and a trifle more active. We should not think it a very great feat to make such a road as you want to the castle of Falkenstein in an hour."

"Can you―will you?" cried the knight.

"We both can and will; for, to tell you the truth, I have taken a liking to you. You have not troubled us with hands of glory and exorcisms, to wring from us the secret of the best lodes; but you must be aware that we do nothing for nothing, and I have a trifling affair of business to talk over with you. Command your workmen to cease driving in the direction where they are now employed. They are coming inconveniently near the dark abodes of my people, whom I cannot always keep in order on such occasions, and if they go much further, we shall be driven out of the mountain altogether: as it is, we get no rest by day, and all night we are busy. Only give up working the 'Saint Margaret mine'-you will lose nothing by your forbearance, for there are richer veins running from west to east, and you may well leave us, who lie to the north, in peace. Grant this, and the road shall be made by midnight: here are the rods to show you where the rich eastern veins run."

"I grant it," said Kuno.

"The compact is complete," said the figure," and to-morrow your wishes shall be gratified."

At this moment, the ghastly cry of the great horned owl broke on the startled ear of Kuno; he looked round mechanically, and when he turned his head again towards the spot where his visitant had stood, he

was gone, and in his place lay the divining rods, wet with dew and glittering in the cold moonshine. The knight gathered them up and departed, full of hope, to his dwelling.

Irmengarde had no such comfort. Sleep fled from her; and whilst her father, rocked by deep draughts of Rhenish, slumbered heavily, she left her chamber, and with tearful eyes sought the oriel where she had last seen Kuno, and then turned sadly away to seek her couch again, there to watch and weep.

The clock struck eleven.

Instantly the air was filled with the din of pickaxes, crowbars, sledgehammers, and stone-chisels, as if all the miners in the world were at work, tearing the very entrails of the rock to pieces. Irmengarde's heart fluttered as if it would burst through its lovely prison; but she dared not approach the window.

The Lord of Falkenstein, awakened by the uproar, descended into his great hall, which he paced in an absolute fury. "That madman," cried he, "is positively at work; he will do just enough utterly to break up my pathway, and we shall have no egress or ingress but by basket and pulley."

He strode to the window and opened it.

This seemed to be the signal for letting loose the elements. The winds blew from the four points of Heaven, as if the general doom were near, shaking the ancient beeches to their very roots, and bending the lofty heads of the other forest trees, till they creaked and groaned again. The windows and doors were blown open and clapped to; the lightning shot in a flood of splendour through the hall, lighting up the armour for a moment only, but so vividly, that every device upon every shield, was seen more clearly than at noonday. The thunder crashed; shouts of unearthly laughter were heard even above its reverberations. Irmengarde, who had rushed in terror to the hall, clung to her father, murmuring her "aves" and her prayers, and making the holy sign.

The clock struck twelve. Presently the thunder rolled more distantly, the gusts were less violent, the shouts of laughter more faint; the moon again shone forth, and a calm, hardly interrupted by the balmy zephyr, reigned throughout nature.

The Lord of Falkenstein breathed more freely, and endeavoured to calm his agitated daughter. ""Twas but the wild huntsman," said he, "sweeping by with his doomed train." Irmengarde was pacified; for she remembered the promise of Kuno, and love believeth all things: she went to her bower, and slept the sleep of innocence and hope.

Not so the father: he tossed on an anxious bed, without closing his eyes, till the song of birds, and the ruddy streaks of light, told him that the blessed sun was rising. Scarcely had its first rays gilded the turrets, when the tramp of a steed was heard. The Baron started up, and from the window beheld on the drawbridge the gallant knight, mounted on his good charger, as if he had dropped from the skies.

"Well, sire of Falkenstein," said the youth gaily, "your castle is not very difficult of access now; I never travelled a pleasanter road my life."

in

"Is it possible? Am I awake?" exclaimed the Baron, as he caught a glimpse of the broad, well-beaten way that wound up the rock. Kuno entered the hall where stood the trembling Irmengarde.

The