"The Prince Bishop of Fulda!" repeated the old woman, with some degree of agitation. "Perhaps--yet it is a wild and foolish thought--perhaps all hope is not shut out to you." "What sayest thou, then, old Magdalena?" said the youth. "Hope were but torture were it vain; and so it must be"---- "Yes. I was wrong. Heed not my words! But know you not that your patron, the bishop, is close at hand? Already I have heard that he arrived this morning at his castle of Saaleck, at half a league's distance from the town; and he will probably shortly enter Hammelburg, as is his wont." "These are glad tidings!" said Gottlob, his eyes beaming with joy. "I will at once to Saaleck, and, if the prince admit me to his presence, throw myself at his feet, assure him of all my gratitude for the past, and offer him my poor service for the future." With these words the young man hurried to his cumbrous chest, and pulling out a short cloak, flung it around him. A small cap of black velvet, of the cut of the time, which showed off to advantage the beauty of his youthful face, was hastily thrown upon his head. He was about to quit the chamber, when Magdalena caught him by the arm. "Thy repast, Master Gottlob." "Have I time to think of that?" said the eager youth, swallowing, however, in haste a few mouthfuls of the broth, to satisfy the old woman's look of supplication. "And when you mount or descend the mountain-path that leads to the castle on its brow," said the old woman, during Gottlob's hasty meal, "if you can still have a thought for poor old Magdalena, she begs you enter the chapel on the mountain-side, which is esteemed so holy that it is permitted to be a sanctuary of refuge to the criminal, and say a short prayer for her soul's weal." "Can those so good and kind as thou, Magdalena, need the prayers of such as I?" said the young man. "The fervent supplications of the young and pure at heart are always acceptable," replied Magdalena evasively, but in a sad and earnest tone. "So be it--and fare-thee-well," said Gottlob, finishing his last mouthful, and hurrying to depart. "And heed you, gentle youth," again cried Magdalena, "as you cross the bridge to leave the town. The river is much swollen with the late rains, so much as to threaten destruction to the tottering fabric." "I fear no such danger," was the young man's reply; "and besides, have I not thy charm?" he continued, laughing, holding up a black ring inscribed with strange characters, that hung about his neck.