the length of time that had elapsed since our last meeting was in part the effect of a fit of love-like sullenness into which I had fallen. I resolved however, on the present occasion, since business would lead me past the door of her house, to condescend to enter, and afford her an opportunity for explanation.

In the first place, however—and I am ashamed to confess it-I was guilty of the boyishness of riding past the windows with my party, in the expectation of being called in. The manœuvre either being unobserved or misunderstood, I was fain to order my lieutenant to proceed to Lavis, and there wait for me; and turning my horse, I went leisurely back. Dismounting a little way from the house, I entered a footpath which conducted to the parlour door; and finding the door open, and no servant at hand, I was just on the point of entering when arrested by the voice of Rusen.

"To-morrow night then," said he, addressing some one in the room, "in the Castle of Salurn.”

The voice which answered was Dorathen's. I know not what idea passed through my mind at the moment; but in a few seconds I found myself again on horseback, and riding like a madman after my party.

We were far on our way to Botzen before I recovered my faculties sufficiently to reason calmly on what I had heard. The purposes of conspiracy, even did one exist, could scarcely be supposed to require the

meeting of a young female with one of the other sex in a situation so wild and so remote as the Castle of Salurn. In the Tyrol there is plenty of waste ground, in the neighbourhood even of the most thickly inhabited places, for any reasonable secresy; and indeed at the very moment when I heard the rendezvous appointed, the parties were, or imagined themselves to be, in the most entire solitude. A meeting of mere love or gallantry, in a place that the owls themselves must have been afraid to inhabit, was out of the question. At times I endeavoured to persuade myself that what I had heard was some nightmare creation of my own jealous brain; but at all events I determined, in conclusion, in case any actual appointment had been made, to be of the party.

On our return from Botzen on the following evening, I halted my party in the village of Salurn, and ordering some refreshment for them and our horses, walked out alone on pretence of inquiring into the destinies of the weather. It was now dark; and as I entered the wilderness of rocks on the side of the mountain, I found that their shadow brought on a premature night, which rendered it difficult for me to distinguish the path. The ruined fortress, however, was full in sight, towering far above my head; and it was bright with the rays of the sun, that were altogether lost to the lower world. I had never seen this magnificent object so near, or in

a light so well calculated to assist its effect; and I lost some time in contemplating the remarkable scene.

I was startled from my reverie by the appearance of a little girl emerging from one of the innumerable creeks among the rocks, and running across my path. As she passed, she threw a small piece of paper towards me from a handful she carried, and immediately vanished on the opposite side. On eagerly picking up the document, which, in the absorbing selfishness of love, I imagined to contain a solution of the enigma that perplexed me, I found written on it, in the patois of the country, S'ist zeit, "It is time:" was this the answer to the challenge of Rusen-" Is it time?" The affinity between the expressions struck me with a kind of panic, and I endeavoured, in startled haste, to recall to my remembrance what had been the appearance of the people as I passed through the country.

I recollected that I had observed, in the course of the day, various knots of peasants gazing into the waters of the Eisak; and that once, when a sudden shouting arose from one of the groups, it seemed to have been caused by the appearance of a quantity of sawdust floating down the torrent. The people, however, had dispersed to their homes as usual, when the evening set in; and on leaving the village a quarter of an hour before, no sign of tumult had been visible, and, indeed, no appearance of the inhabitants at all, except about half a dozen conversing behind one of the

houses.

These last were gazing earnestly towards the Castle of Salurn; and at this moment it struck me, but not at the time, as being strange that their attention should have been attracted so forcibly by so familiar an object. They appeared to be gloomy and discontented; and I heard one of them say, in the constantly recurring form of expression-" It is not time."

These things, even when put together, were too slight to amount to much; for even the words of the written note, and its mode of delivery, might have referred to some festival of the neighbourhood. Nevertheless, an indefinite feeling of alarm began to rise in my breast, and I debated for some moments whether I should not return at once to my party. Love triumphed however, assisted perhaps by curiosity; and I determined, since the way was now so short, to climb the castle rock before returning to the village.

Rock

The way was not so short as I imagined. after rock was passed-sometimes scaled, and sometimes coasted round-and still the castle appeared to be as distant as ever. By degrees, the portion of its walls that was illumined by the sun grew less and less, and at last, as the light faded altogether, I could only recognise it by its outlines, faintly traced against the dull sky. Plunging on in desperation, I at length reached the base of the enormous cliff on which the castle is built, when there was only light enough to

distinguish that I had thus far succeeded in my under

taking.

The grand difficulty now was to find the path, or stair, which led to the building above; and the search for this object led me nearly all round the rock, and wasted so much time, that it became almost pitch dark. It is impossible to describe the state of my mind at this period. Independently of the struggle between public. duty and private interests, there strangely mingled with my knowledge of the reality of the rendezvous between Dorathen and her suitor, an idea that the whole was nothing more than a dream and a delusion. As the night wind that had now arisen began to sigh among the cliffs, it seemed to me to convey a sound resembling marching; and when raising my head, I half expected to see between me and the dim sky, some grinning faces looking down in derision. In the midst of these absurd fancies, engendered by the strangeness of my situation, and the loneliness and wildness of the place, I heard, with a distinctness that at once recalled my wandering senses, a human voice.

It was the voice of Rusen, and so near, that I instinctively curved my fingers to return his grapple. The next moment, however, I remembered, that he must be wholly unconscious of my presence, while I, on the contrary, might have expected him; and, coasting cautiously round a jutting point of the cliff, I endeavoured