We soon reached the tower by a zig-zag ascent, up which our horses wound with no little difficulty. The noise of our approach was concealed by the roar of the cascade which thundered over a wall of rock into the ravine below; but on our appearance at the little stone bridge which spanned that tide of foam, we were immediately challenged by the sentinel; a drum was beaten within, and the garrison, which was still composed of a detachment of Ramsay's Scots, commanded by Lieutenant Ruthven, stood to their arms; and after due inquiries and explanations, the gates were opened, and about sunrise, I found myself duly installed Governor of Lutzelstein; and seated at table in the hall, discussing with Ruthven a breakfast of hot coffee, with pickled carp from the Rhine, with ham, eggs, and schnaps. The Lieutenant, Francis Ruthven of the house of Redcastle, was an active and brave young officer, nephew of the Marshal Earl of Forth, and in after years colonel in the Dutch service, and Governor of Monell. He proved a very pleasant companion, and seemed glad of my arrival to relieve the monotony of his command in that lonely castle, among those wood-covered mountains that form the great barrier between France and the Empire, and which are usually capped with snow during half the year. There a month stole tediously away, and save an occasional alarm, which gave me some anxiety, and beat us up in our shirts in the night, I had nothing to disturb the somewhat moody current of my thoughts, and I fear that my companion the lieutenant must have deemed me a very dull fellow, to be one of Gordon's cuirassiers. 'You have an estate,' said he to me, one day, 'while I have nought in this world but my sword; yet I am a jollier fellow than thee--how is this?' 'I know not,' said I, briefly. 'I am somewhat of a philosopher,' said he, smoothing his fine black moustache, 'and at college learned to deem a rich man in some respects a greater slave than a poor one.' 'How?' 'Was not Seneca right, when he termed a great wealth a great servitude?' 'Perhaps; yet believe me,' said I, with a smile, 'it is not the load of wealth that oppresses me.' Lutzelstein was the scene of one of De Bitche's greatest atrocities--the abduction of its widowed countess. It was a true old German castle, the abode of gloom and superstition; moreover, it was, I know not how, associated with the memory of fair Agnes Sorel, the Lady of Beauty, the hapless mistress of Charles of France; and on the wall of the room I occupied hung a tapestry said to be worked by her, and which represented one of those most authentic scenes which enrich the ancient history of France, to wit--King Pepin la Bref laying at the feet of his queen, Bertha the giantess, the head of a lion, which he had cut off by one blow of his sword, and with the ears of which a chubby brat, supposed to represent the future Charlemagne, was playing. CHAPTER LXVII. VISCOUNT DUNDRENNAN.