drink the greater part, was quite empty, I had learned all that the worthy Damfnudel knew. This amounted to no great deal. The duke's gentleman had been inquisitive as to who I was, had inspected the book, had inquired if I had a servant, and had seemed disappointed at finding I was quite alone, and that the innkeeper could tell him little or nothing about me. Damfnudel was much inclined to believe, indeed had heard it rumoured in the town, that an important personage was expected at the castle, whom it was thought possible might be standing in my boots under the assumed name of Charles von Degen. Flattering as was the implied compliment to the aristocratic distinction of my appearance, I nevertheless repudiated the incognito, declared myself to be no other than I seemed, and begged Damfnudel to treat me and charge me as an ordinary traveller, and by no means as a prince, ambassador, or field-marshal, or other great dignitary. Dumfnudel, however, was of opinion that in these times so many real and ex-potentates travel incognito, that it is impossible to say who is who, and that a prudent innkeeper must consequently suspect all his guests of high rank until the contrary be proven, and charge accordingly. Although I most perseveringly perambulated Mauseloch and its vicinity, I saw nothing more that day of the too fascinating Theresa. I ascertained, however, that the following morning was fixed for a grand shooting party in the ducal preserves, and that there I might confidently expect to obtain a view of my enchantress. Accordingly, at an early hour I mingled with the sportsmen and idlers who were thronging to the scene of action, and had not very long to wait before the party from the castle drove through the park gates. At first I had no eyes but for the lovely Theresa, who stepped lightly from her carriage, more beautiful than ever, her sweet face and graceful form shown to the utmost advantage by a closely-fitted hunting dress, in which she might have been taken for the queen of the Amazons, or for Cynthia herself newly descended from Olympus to hunt a boar in Klein Fleckenberg. Bright was her glance, gay and graceful her smile, as she alighted on the turf whose blades her fairy foot scarce bent. There was a murmur of admiration amongst the bystanders as she bowed cheerfully and kindly around, and again I thought her eye rested half a second's space on me, as I stood a little in the background, in the shadow of the trees. The duke and duchess were with her, and the three were attended by their little court, amongst whose members I recognised my inquisitive friend of the previous day.