sisterly duty I owe unto you, that I could not-indeed I could not bring myself to perform, to advertise you of the unaccountable-nay, of the unheard of, disgraceful step, taken by my poor unhappy niece, your misguided daughter, during your brief advance. Only think! she thought proper, on the 27th inst., to elope with Frederic Kenigsberg, as if she could not have waited your return to be rationally and decently married to him, without despoiling us, by this covert and indelicate forestalment, of all the honor and éclat which ought ever to attend a wedding in the house of Meinheim, and me of my own particular share of credit in the preparation of bride's-bread and cider-posset, those famous comfitures which you know, Ludolph, have graced every wedding of the venerable house of Meinheim, from the days of Adam and Eve until now, and the receipts for which, together with sundry experimental instructions in the art of compounding them, have descended to me, by right of heritage, in the straight line of succession, ever since. I am very angry with your shame-faced Miss, who can scarce speak without a blush, and never raises her voice above her breath, I can tell her ; and when she and her husband come whining, as I suppose they will do, to the chateau for pardon, no bride bread and posset shall they have, I vow, if these be left at my disposal. Do not, however, blame me for your wilful girl's misconduct; Heaven knows I've striven to bring her up a virtuous and discreet maiden; whipped her well for every fault, and almost every day, and never let her see the pernicious shadow even of a romance, save that of the Grand Cyrus (which could not, you know, do her any harm), Sir Palamedes, or the Brazen Knight and the Enchanter, and some others equally innocent. It happened unfortunately enough, that on the 27th inst. having a severe attack of my old enemy rheumatism, I had taken for it a few such cordial specifics as hiera-pycra, Hungary water, &c. which lulled me into so pleasant a slumber about the hour in which I am wont to walk in the forest whilst Adelinda rides, that I only awoke late at night, to learn that she went out alone, imprudent girl! and was not returned. Be sure the chateau was and is in a fine uproar, for she has

never come back; only, as you may rely upon it she will ere long, I would not have you alarm yourself about her; and I am, dear brother,

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"Ever yours, respectfully and affectionately, RHODA DE MEINHEIM.'

Humph!" quoth the baron, as he laid down this epistle, "what a consummate dawdling, prosing, selfish ninny, is my good sister! But what have we here?

Another letter from the chateau, I protest, about this unlucky business, and in a hand I do not recognize." opened it, and read as follows:

He

Chateau de Meinheim, Sept. 29th, 1763. "Most noble, my Lord, and Honored Sir,

"We your poor servants, Winifred Würsten and Lodowig Trappe, take the liberty of troubling you with sad news. Madam writes to you also to-day, but as she made as though she did not think seriously of our dear young lady's loss, and seemed moreover not to believe what we said about it, or, what is likely, did not choose to alarm you, honored lord, now that you are distant, and can do no good, we wish to tell you some few things which perhaps she has not mentioned in her letter. The day after you left us, Miss Adlinder went to ride as usual, and meet Mr. Fredrig Keensberg in the wood, but came home very much vexed, because, after riding about the place for more than an hour, he did not come. Next day it was the same, and the next, and the next, and so indeed for a week, when the young lady began to take on sadly, that Mr. Fred. K neither writ nor came, and she thought if he had not forsaken her quite for another, which was of course unpossible, he must be dead. Well, honored sir, a fortnight or more passed, Miss bemoaning herself sadly, when, one day, a queer-looking man came to the back door of your house with a letter for Miss Adlinder, from Mr. Keensberg as he said, and must be given to her directly. Sure enough it was his writing, so I (L. Trappe) gave it to nurse Winifred, and she to Miss, who kissed her, and afterwards the letter, but would not tell a soul what the young gentleman said. Two days after, as madam, being

ill, was asleep, she has since told us, in the little green parlour, Miss Adlinder asked me (Lodowig) to ride behind her, as usual, in the forest, but when she came to the miner's hut, about a mile from the oak where she and her gentleman generally meet- Lodowig,' says she, 'I've somewhere dropped my handkerchief; do look for it, since, having but just missed it, surely it cannot be far; and, if you ride gently back a little way, 'xamining the path and bushes on each side of it, you'll certainly find it before long; meantime, I'll go slowly forwards to the oak, and if you shouldn't be returned, Mr. Keensberg will, I dare say, see me home.' So back I went, little dreaming of harm, and surely found the handkerchief hanging to a bramblebush, but three good miles at least from the place where I parted with Miss Adlinder; so I thought as I had rode very slowly, and it was now quite dark, 'cept the moon was rising broad and red, that she and Mr. Fredrig would soon come up with me; and after waiting for them a little while, I hallooed, but there was no answer; then my mind began to misgive me, for I recollected the spirits, robbers, and the old men o' the mine, (nay, for that matter the young ones too) who prowl about the Black Forest, and I became sore afeard for the poor young lady. So I turned to go and see after her, and, honored lord, madam has, we suppose, told you the rest; how she was nowhere to be seen, and has never been heard of since, and how we were, and are, just crazy about the poor young thing, and flustered what to say to your honorable lordship about the matter. Madam, however, who is a wonderful lady for putting a good heart on bad mischances, thinks the young gentleman and Miss have gone off together to get married on the sly, being tired of waiting so long, and feard another law-suit should stay their wedding altogether. Mistress Würsten fears Mr. Keensberg may have acted unhandsomely and deceptiously by too trusting Miss, as some gentlemen will do, and there's no knowing them till they be tried, but I don't think so; and what my thoughts are on this sad affair I wish not here to say, nor any thing more at present, but that immediately this is finished I'm going to seek high and low for Miss Adlinda, and will bring her home P. 33.

B

alive or dead, God willing; and that with dutiful respects, honored lord and sir, we remain

"Your faithful servants,

"LODOWIG TRAPPE & WINIFRED WURSTEN."

P. S. There has a strange report just arrived here of the old gentleman Counsellor Keensberg's death suddenly in a fit, and of his money going to the emperor, in case of his son Mr. Fredrig not being found within three months after his death. Cannot speak to the truth of this report, which was brought just now by drover Wilsten, who says he thinks he saw Mr. Counsellor's house at Orlicksdam shut up, as for a person dead.

Such was the effect of this last simply eloquent letter, that in less than two hours after its receipt Baron de Meinheim, in a state of mind bordering upon distraction, was on the road towards that desolated home, which he had left so tranquil and happy. The Black Forest, though boasting the most romantic beauty, was replete with danger, both to travellers passing through it, and to its inhabitants; beneath its surface of luxuriant vegetation, laid rich and vast treasures of the mineral world, particularly iron; and for centuries had mines been occasionally opened therein, and abandoned or worked as the metallic veins were found to be rich or poor, and likely to enrich or ruin mining speculators. Baron de Meinheim was amongst the proprietors of these mines, and, upon the whole, a fortunate one, since on his estate a mine had lately been opened, which, after an enormous expense incurred, was likely to prove exceedingly productive; whilst that of a near neighbour (a young Frey graf of family, dependent on his patrimony, this mine, for his annual income) had, after giving excellent promise, failed entirely.

Young Cronstadt was RUINED; and, with his habitation in the forest, he was obliged to abandon the hopes he had once cherished of a union with Mademoiselle de Meinheim, in spite of her well-known engagement with Frederic Koenigsberg. What had become of him since the day in which he fled heart-broken from his paternal house and

heritage, no one certainly knew; once Adelinda had seen him in the forest, and upon her memory long indeed had the terrors of that interview remained impressed. Cronstadt was dressed in a ruffianly semi-military fashion; he carried in his hand a rifle, in his belt a dirk and brace of pistols, and looked the complete desperado; his eye was glaring and restless, his manner anxious and suspicious in the extreme, and his words were wild, passionate, incoherent, and darkly terrible; Adelinda being obliged to ride slowly through the tangled paths of the forest, he accompanied her for some way with his arm familiarly laid across the flanks of her horse; now, in the extravagance of passion, conjuring her, penniless as he was, to throw herself into his arms immediately; and now, as thoughts of his rival, and of his own destitute condition, pressed on his agonized mind, muttering threats and execrations "not loud, but deep." Adelinda deigned no reply; old Lodowig, who had formerly borne arms with considerable credit in the service of the state, rode behind her, and the sturdy stalwart veteran was, she felt, more than a match for the slightly made youth beside her; all her apprehension was, that if Cronstadt were indeed, as report affirmed, (and his appearance strongly warranted the conclusion,) captain of a bandit horde, composed of miners out of employ, Bohemian gypsies, Hungarian vagrants, and other desperate characters, who were said to have their secret haunts in various recesses of the Black Forest; the least show of opposition from herself, or attendant, might provoke a signal from the irritated young man, which would bring the whole band upon them; she deemed it prudent, therefore, to hold her peace, and to conjure Lodowig, who seemed inclined to make free with his tongue; and his horse-whip, to restrain his feelings also. Emerging, however, into one of the open glades of the forest, at the extremity of which stood the well-known oak of rendezvous, she whipped up her steed, rushed forward with the celerity of lightning, and followed by Lodowig; the unhappy Cronstadt was left alone. For one moment, in the blank stupefaction of despair, did he stand gazing after his flying mistress; then, with a countenance in which mortal anguish and the worst passions strove for mastery, he slowly