—“Ah! dear good lady!” said the little mourner, while she sank on her knees before me, and kist my hand; “I entreat you, do what this knight requests of you! My mother and myself are alone in a gloomy castle, where there are none but stern-looking men, with great beards and heavy swords; and my mother is so very ill! and she asked so anxiously, ‘was there no lady who would comfort and assist her in her sickness!’ and then this knight who saved us from dying in the forest, answered, that he knew a lady whom he loved as his sister, and that he would bring her to my mother, if she could be persuaded to follow him; and then he took me along with him, that I might help to prevail on you to come and be kind to my poor mother: and now I am here, you _will_ be prevailed on; I am sure of it, because you look on me so kindly! Come, dear good lady! Come!”— I kist the pretty suppliant without thoroughly comprehending what it was that she requested me to do, and cast an inquiring look upon Ethelbert. He related his adventure with the Countess of Mayenfield in so interesting a manner, that it was impossible for me to hesitate a moment longer, as to what course I should pursue. Indeed, the history of this unfortunate lady was not unknown to me, when Ethelbert mentioned her name: her misfortunes had for some time been the general subject of conversation, and had already cost me many a sympathising tear, and many an ardent wish to find some means of giving her assistance. I was deaf to all the suggestions of prudence, and threw myself into the litter, wishing that I could have given the horses wings, so eager was I to reach the illustrious sufferer. My nurse accompanied me; a discreet and benevolent woman, who was likely to be of much more use to the Countess than myself. So completely was I occupied by my anxiety for the poor lady, that I scarcely paid any attention to Ethelbert’s tender expressions of gratitude, or to the representations of my nurse, who hinted to me with some appearance of discontent, that I had acted with rather too much rashness in this business; she assured me, that _her_ presence at the Castle of Carlsheim would be quite sufficient without my giving myself the trouble to go there; and she confest, that she thought Count Venosta would have good reason to be offended at finding on his return home, that I had quitted his house during his absence with a young knight, in spite of darkness and an heavy fall of snow.