"I know that already," said his gloomy guest.
"Well, and does not your heart jump more freely? Have you also heard--no, you could not," continued Dieterich, as he approached him in confidence--"the Swiss have withdrawn their aid from the Duke."
"How? Have they deserted him?" replied Albert. "Well, then, I suppose that will put an end to the war."
"I would not be quite certain of that," said the scribe, doubtfully. "The Duke of Würtemberg is young and bold, and has many knights and followers at his command. He will not, indeed, run the risk of fighting a battle in the field, but many fortified castles and cities remain faithful to his cause. Höllenstein, defended by Stephen von Lichow, Göppingen, which Philip von Rechberg will not give up at the first shot, Schorndorf, Rothenberg, Arsperg, but, above all, Tübingen, which he has strongly fortified, still hold faithful to him. Many a one will bite the grass before your steed drinks of the water of the Neckar."
"Well, well!" he continued, perceiving this news did not cheer up his silent guest, "if this warlike message does not please you, you will, perhaps, lend a willing ear to a more peaceful commission. Tell me, have you not a cousin somewhere or other?"
"A cousin, yes; but why do you ask?"
"Only think! now I understand the confused conversation I had with Marie a little while ago. As I came out of the town hall, she winked to me from her window to come to her, when she desired me to bring my guest this afternoon into her garden on the Danube. Bertha, who knows your cousin very well, has something of importance to send to her, and hopes you will be so kind as to be the bearer of it. Such secrets and commissions generally consist in mere trifles. I would bet, it is nothing but a little model of a weaver's loom, or a pattern of fine wool, or some mysterious secret in the art of cooking; perhaps a few seeds of some rare flower, for Bertha is a great florist. However, if these girls pleased you yesterday, you will have no objection to accompany me to-day."
In the midst of his painful thoughts, on the hour of separation from his love, Albert could scarce refrain from laughing at the cunning ingenuity of the girls; he proffered his hand heartily to the welcome messenger, and prepared to follow his friend.
The garden was situated on the banks of the Danube, about two thousand paces below the bridge. It was not large, and bore the appearance of being kept with care and attention. The fruit trees were as yet not clothed with foliage, neither were the curiously formed flower beds ornamented with flowers; a long walk of yew trees skirting the bank of the river, and terminating in a large arbour, formed a pleasing picture by their bright green colour, and gave sufficient protection to a white neck and arm, against the piercing rays of a burning sun. The two girls, awaiting the arrival of the young men, were seated on a commodious stone bench in the arbour, and had an extended view, up and down the Danube, through apertures made in the side of it.
Bertha sat there in sorrowful thought, her arm resting on one of the apertures, and her head, weary from grief and weeping, supported on her hand. Her dark glossy hair threw out in strong relief her beautiful white complexion, which sorrow had rendered a deadly pale colour; sleepless nights had robbed her brilliant blue eye of its usual animation, and given to it a languishing--perhaps so much the more interesting--look of melancholy. Beside her sat the rosy Marie, fresh and plump, a perfect specimen of a merry heart. Her golden tresses, animated round face, bright hazel eyes, light and lively movements, were peculiarly striking when compared with the dark locks, oval careworn countenance, and thoughtful look of her dejected cousin.