festival of the Lord of Interlaken, at his castle on the Lake of Thun."

"The last is a gallant and true knight," remarked Arnold; "but tell Peter of Thornberg that the people of his barony of Enthlibuch are growing weary of his tyranny; and it might bestead the Lord of Gerisau if he were reminded that he is too weak to oppose the Lion League, although he has not yet joined it."

"Gerisau is a fief of Austria," was the only reply made by De Hasenberg, as they embarked.

Leaving Lucerne, they were quickly conveyed through the various curves of the lake between its noble and diversified shores, until nearly fronting Gerisau. The romantic residence of Arnold was seen on the opposite side of the lake, peeping from its elevated recess: Arnold even thought he could perceive the handkerchief waving his welcome from the balcony. "It is my daughter Bertha," said he: then turning to the Austrians, he added, "Our countries are not yet at war, and ye are honourable knights. Yonder is my habitation, and should your curiosity lead you to explore the shores of Underwalden, do not, in your way to Stantz, pass, unentered, the door of Arnold of Winkelried."

Eyloff, in his youthful feeling, was about to promise; but the tranquil John of Hasenberg prevented it by the usual acknowledgments, made in the most approved manner of the Austrian court; and they separated, if not friends, at least with no hostile feelings towards each other. Turning their prows to different points, the boats soon bore them to their several destinations, the one to the bosom of his happy family, and the other to the little castle of the petty Lord of Gerisau. But Eyloff was not content to waste the rest of the day in the monotony of the castle; and, leaving his more aged companion and their host fighting their former battles over their wine of Alsace, he engaged the boatmen, for a few florins, to proceed farther up the lake. Shooting through the narrow passage leading towards Mont Righi, and following the sudden turn to the right, the young knight passed between the memorable village and meadow pointed out by Arnold in the morning, through a stupendous mountain portal, worthy of being the entrance to a lake, at once the most classical and most magnificent in Switzerland. In breathless admiration, with feelings such as he had seldom before experienced, he glided over the silent and gloomy Lake of Uri, as it reposed in its dark and glassy stillness, closely confined between banks of almost terrific grandeur. On either

side the rocks rose to a fearful height, now thrown into the wildest and most fantastic forms, now shooting up in perpendicular masses of granite, bare and bald, or shagged and bristled with dark forests of fir, or beech, or pine, down to the water's edge; and now hanging their beetling cliffs over the passing voyager, their wildest features rendered yet more savage by the fearful contrast offered, here and there, in the green or golden patch of cultivation, and rude cabin of the adventurous peasant, suspended amidst the crags.

Having reached the Rock of Tell, Eyloff, yielding to the advice of the boatmen, abandoned the design of proceeding so far as Altorf. The bay of Fluelen, they said, was sometimes dangerous in the evenings, and the day was fast wearing away; they even thought that already the golden day-streaks that crossed the dazzling white of the glaciers of the Sureen Alps were beginning to assume the rich purple hue lent by the declining sun. "The winds are going up the mountains," said one of the boatmen, as they headed homewards, "to bring down the rain upon us; there will be flüderwetter yet;" and they stretched manfully to their oars. But in despite of their speed they had scarcely arrived opposite the perilous bay of Brunnen when the sun disappeared behind Mont Pilate.

"Potz tusig!" exclaimed the man who had before spoken, as he looked toward the west, "Pontius has put his black cap on; we shall have a blascht from that quarter too; it's well if we get out of the Uri See, where there's no landing left us, before it comes down." "Cannot we run into Brunnen?" asked the other boatman; "Or Gerisau?" inquired Eyloff. "Neither,” replied the first, bluntly: "Pull round yonder promontory, and make for the first smooth spot of Underwalden, it's all that's left us." The wind began now to be evidently felt by the quiet lake, and they had barely weathered the point when the tempest burst over them in all its violence. The blast, like a thing of life, came rushing and raging over the waters; the clouds sent down their torrents with irresistible force and fury; the thunders clashed, and lightnings shot madly around them, while the winds and waters, in whirls and eddies from the numerous bluffs and rocky hollows of the shore, threatened every moment their destruction.

"Make for yon inlet," cried the boatman, as a protracted gleam of lightning showed the place of Arnold's residence.

Casting his eyes in the direction pointed out, Eyloff discovered a light skiff, struggling like

their own to gain the shore; she was nearer the land, but her peril seemed extreme, and as they approached the frail bark the flashes of light discovered a female seated in the stern, her long loose tresses streaming in the storm. Her delicate form was sustained with difficulty, while with one hand she clung to the side of the boat, and with the other grasped the helm. Meantime a well-grown lad, her companion, plied his oars with a steady and strong nerve. They were now but a short distance from the shore; lights blazing on the beach and at the house directed their course, and Eyloff almost felt assured of the female's safety, when a gust suddenly coming round from the point below, bearing the waters high before it, struck the light bark on the side and instantly upset her. The generous boy held by the boat, only to cast his look around to discover where he might succour his sister, but Eyloff had already plunged in, and at the risk of his own life rescued the lady just as she was about to sink beneath the waves. With the assistance of the boatmen they were all safely conveyed to the beach, where the distracted mother stood screaming in her despair. Her daughter was yet insensible, but when borne up the winding path that led to her dwelling, and it became certain that she yet lived, who can depict the transport of the happy parent over her restored child!

The return of Arnold, who had hastened towards home from his business abroad on the first indications of the approaching storm, was now announced, and he entered as the grateful matron, after seeing her daughter properly attended to, was pouring out her acknowledgments before the young knight; and when informed of the extent of their obligations to him, the pressure of the hand, the tear that swelled into his manly eye, spoke the fond father's feelings.

An early separation and retirement being expedient, Eyloff was conducted to his chamber, where refreshments were provided him. But he felt, for the first time, perhaps, after a day of such exertion, but little inclined either to eat or sleep, and he lay listening to the roar of the tempest without, and thinking over the last interesting incident. He still seemed to enfold in his arms the youthful beauty he had rescued, and to gaze upon her as if he would infuse, through his eyes, a portion of his own fire into her cold and inanimate form. He asked himself why a little Swiss girl, scarcely seen, should thus produce sensations which the beauties of the Austrian court had failed to excite, and he could not answer; but he could not but remember her mild blue eyes, as,

awakening from the sleep of temporary death, they turned upon her deliverer, and thought following thought, he still lay drawing beautiful pictures of the future, and it was not until nature became exhausted that his spirit grew calm and he sank to rest, lulled by the low and monotonous moaning of the subsiding storm.

Is love, then, a mere passion-an excitement? Is it not rather a mystic affinity existing in kindred hearts, latent, perhaps, till circumstances bring them within the sphere of its mysterious agency? Is the beautiful apologue all fable, that the souls of those individuals of either sex, intended for each other, receive, at their formation, the impress of their destiny, and, however widely separated at their birth, know and recognize each other when they meet? If sympathy be a mere word among mortals, how is it that one shall wander among the beautiful and polished, the pure and unsophisticated of foreign lands, surrounded by all that can excite the senses or satisfy the taste, and yet return to find a kindred soul in the ordinary circle of home; while another shall leave behind, unregarded, those whom association, whom similarity of habits, tastes, opinions, even prejudices, might render objects of preference, to seek, in some distant corner of the universe, his mystic partner in a stranger, an alien in language, manners, opinions; in a word, in all but love?

Eyloff, for one so young, had seen much in the world, and his education and breeding had been suitable to his station, among the highest in Austria. Bertha was not unused to society; she had accompanied her parents in many of their visits to the gentry of the neighbouring districts, and her father's mansion was the seat of hospitality. It was not, therefore, rustic bashfulness that, when Eyloff and Bertha met at breakfast, threw over their deportment the air of reserve and embarrassment. Was it not that the mystic powers had met and commingled? Were not two kindred souls at length about to fulfil their destiny? "I am devoted to adore this maiden," humbly breathed the spirit of Eyloff; "but oh! dare I hope to gain so rich a prize? let me not offend her by the arrogance of even a too ardent gaze." "Behold," whispered the throbbing heart of Bertha, "here is the youth I am fated to love; yet ah ! will he regard the poor Swiss girl?"

It was a lovely morning. The sun was rising bright and beautiful over the enchanting scene around them, and the repast of the little family was taken, with their guest, on a green terrace before the house, commanding the most interesting prospect. Yet Eyloff had never

been less attentive to the sublime and beautiful of inanimate nature. When they arose from table, however, and he followed the happy family through the romantic grounds, he could not but admire the rich and varied landscape, as it was spread out before him, of mountain, and lake, and valley, and wood; the eminences covered with vines, crowned with majestic firs, or dark with pines; while the sunny slopes were glowing with golden grain, the orchards smiled, and the pomegranate and mulberry, the fig and almond, blossomed: nor is it probable that the jessamine, the lilac, and the eglantine received the less attention from Eyloff, because he was told they had been planted by Bertha.

"No," exclaimed Eyloff, involuntarily, as they were returning towards the house, "war must not blight such scenes." The effects of the expression were immediate; the fair lids of the maiden fell pensively over her eyes as she bent them to the ground, while the chest of the boy, her brother, swelled, his eyes flashed fire, and his hand seemed already to grasp the sword. The meek matron only looked at her husband, but with one of those looks which, at such moments, she often cast upon him; looks, in which might be traced the fond mother and the devoted wife; and all of woman and something of angel. Arnold paused for a space, while a fearful sternness settled on his brow, and he stood in his family as Junius Brutus might have stood, when all was to be sacrificed for country. The young knight hastened to dispel the cloud his allusion had called down, and he was at length successful.

When Eyloff's visit closed-and it was protracted to the extreme verge of decorum-need it be said that the youth and maid separated mutually pleased and interested?

Eyloff not unfrequently was called upon to attend his relative De Hasenberg in his excursions, but on the summit of the Righi, with an amphitheatre of a hundred leagues around him, crowded with magnificence and loveliness, it was the little antique mansion of Underwalden, distinguished from its gaudy neighbours only by its simplicity-it was the humble spot where Bertha dwelt that alone attracted and enchained his observance. And when required to exercise his knightly skill in the tournament at the castle on the Lake of Thun, the multitude shouted in vain, and the hands of beauty placed a joyless chaplet on his head: it was not until at the feet of Bertha he laid his laurels and received her smile, that he felt himself a victor.

Arnold was much engaged abroad on public affairs, and, when at home, was usually occupied by the duties of his farm, or abstracted in serious reflection. He could not, however, avoid perceiving the growing intimacy of Eyloff and Bertha, but he observed it without uneasiness; the young knight had won his entire confidence; and his daughter, he knew, was incapable of an act of imprudence. The good mother, too, partook of her husband's feelings; and as she plied her domestic cares, smiled in the innocence of her heart on the tender friendship of the amiable children.

And thus the time sped away in the sweet intercourse of two young and virtuous hearts. Sometimes, seated in the social circle, Eyloff would entertain his auditors with descriptions of the country he had left, venturing more than once to hint to the blushing Bertha that the brilliant court of Austria might yet receive an added grace from the wilds of Switzerland. But more frequently the lovers enjoyed the interchange of sentiment without even the maternal eye to observe them: wandering at times through the romantic walks of the neighbouring hills and groves, soothed by the soft notes of the Alpine warbler, as the green or spotted woodpecker flew by them from branch to branch, and the busy nut-cracker was heard in his employment over their heads; while the tawny owl sat in his wisdom high up the shady sycamore, or the hermit-crow looked out grave and solemn from the recess of his piny cell: at other times in the light skiff, coasting the beautiful shore of the lake, and exploring each shady nook for new wonders, and scaring the falcon of the rock from his perch, and the silver inhabitant of the water from his cool and transparent retreat.

One mild and tranquil evening, Eyloff and his Bertha were straying on the quiet shore. He had declared his love: her eyes, that had been downcast at the avowal, were now turned up to his with ineffable affection, as, pressed to his bosom, she listened to his eloquent strain of tenderness. At this moment a boat shot rapidly across from Gerisau, and a messenger in the Austrian costume, leaping on the strand, approached respectfully and handed a letter to the knight. Eyloff grew pale as he scanned its superscription, for he knew it to be Leopold's. It was, indeed, a missive from his sovereign rebuking him for his protracted absence, and commanding his instant return to court.

Old John of Hasenberg, who had so long yielded to his young friend's wish to remain, had received a like command: he was already prepared to set out, and Eyloff was

even then expected. The resolution of the lover was taken ere he had finished the letter. Instructing the messenger to await his return, he led the trembling, almost fainting Bertha toward her father's house. Arnold had just then returned with his son from attending the celebration of the anniversary of Morgarten.

"Arnold of Winkelried," said Eyloff, "I depart from Switzerland this moment. I know not why my sovereign is thus imperative, but as a loyal subject I have but to obey. It is now no time for slow and solemn ceremony. Behold this maiden. I love her, I am beloved; will you that I take her as my bride to Austria?"

The sinking girl clung for support to her lover, like the graceful ivy round the stately oak. Arnold for an instant hesitated, but it was only for an instant. "Young knight," he replied, "you have gained the love of this maiden and the esteem of her parents, yet cannot she now be your wife. Austria is about to be the enemy of Switzerland. Would you that she should abjure her country and her father, or could you be content to share her divided heart? Let Leopold of Austria be just let the storm that hangs over this land be dispelled by him who raised it, or be broken and dispersed on the peaks of yonder Alps, before an Austrian claims as his bride a daughter of Helvetia."

The decisions of Arnold of Winkelried were known to be irrevocable; yet love emboldened Eyloff. "Leopold is my friend," he said; "let me present Bertha before him as my wife, in the power of her beauty and her innocence: let the virtues of your daughter plead for her country."

"The daughter of Arnold must not be a suppliant at a tyrant's feet," replied the Swiss. "Give me your promise then," resumed the youth, "if my plea prevail with Leopold, and war is averted from your happy vales, that Bertha shall be my reward: and let her be betrothed to me here in the sight of yonder glorious heaven."

"Return the friend of free Helvetia and she is yours," replied Arnold; and, kneeling on the verdant carpet, as the sun poured his last beams over the magnificent temple of nature, the lovers were affianced and blessed beneath the blue and smiling sky. "If not before the snow fills your valleys," said Eyloff to Bertha, as they stood on the margin of the lake, "when the first flower of spring appears, expect me."

"Our roses bloom in March, sometimes," whispered Bertha with a faint smile, as they separated.

The winter came on, and the snow lay on the hills and filled the valleys. Nature reposed in her icy fastness, and even the rumours of war were no longer heard.

But at length the snows melted from the sloping hills. The higher mountains, bellowing in their inmost cells, began to be rocked by loud and tremendous shocks, as the glaciers opened their clefts, fearful, yet beautiful, in purple and emerald hues; while, forced by the pent-up winds, showers of ice were hurled far through the air. The freed mountain torrents rushed into the vales, and the dreaded lavange came thundering down. Everything in nature told that the genial season had arrived and was fast passing onward; yet Eyloff came not: the perils of travelling were over, for the pines had shaken from their branches the last dust of snow; yet still he came not: the first flower of spring, how anxiously expected-how fondly welcomed-how dearly cherished, had budded, and bloomed, and withered on its stem; and yet the maiden pined in her loneliness.

In the meantime the political agitations of the Waldstetten were revived, and everything seemed tending to a sanguinary crisis. The people of the district of Ethlibuch, oppressed past sufferance by the tyrant Thornberg, the vassal of Austria, had, in the month of March, thrown themselves on the protection of Lucerne; and the haughty baron had dared to seize and inflict an ignominious death upon the negotiators of the treaty on the part of Ethlibuch. Leopold was already stationed at Kybourg, in the canton of Zurich, ready to support with his troops the tyranny of his bailiffs and his vassals; and it was at length made evident that the hereditary patron and protector of the Waldstetten contemplated no less than its entire subjugation. Undismayed, the stern republicans prepared for the conflict. In the several cantons of the Confederation the general assembly, or Landsgemeind, was summoned, where, in the April following, the knights and burghers appeared in their arms, and declared open war against Thornberg and his adherents. It was but a short time before this period that more than fifty imperial towns in Swabia and Franconia had solicited admission into the Helvetic League; yet now, so terrible was held the enmity of Leopold and his ferocious followers, that the petty towns and states around became eager to be the foremost in manifesting their hostility to devoted Switzerland. The roads from Wirtemberg and Schaffhausen were crowded with their messengers; declarations and defiances poured in upon the Landsgemeind faster than they could be