While engaged at this delightful and now half completed task, infrequently termed the lovely Edith in jest “my most venerable aunt;” and in revenge she embroidered upon a vacant shield the united initials of Ethelbert and Urania. By degrees our discourse took a more serious turn. She declared to me her surprise at Ethelbert’s persisting in not publicly declaring his love for me, a circumstance which had long been the cause of much secret uneasiness and curiosity to myself. She assured me also, that she had no wish more ardent in becoming Countess of Vonosta, than to be authorized to insist on an explanation from the bashful knight (as she called the Count of Carlsheim,) and to become the instrument of accomplishing his happiness and mine. It was at this moment, that a sudden noise in the court of the Castle interrupted our work and our discourse. We sprang from our seats: the trampling of horses would have led us to suppose, that our lovers were returned, had so speedy a termination of their business been possible. We bade our maidens hasten to enquire the news, and flew ourselves to the window in order to learn (if possible), with our own eyes, what had happened. Instantly the Countess started back with a loud shriek, and fainted; nor was my own condition much better on beholding in the court a single warrior covered with blood, and holding two unmounted horses, whose trappings spoke too plainly the fate of their riders! —“What has happened?” I cried from the balcony, in a voice half choaked by anxiety. —“Ah! noble lady!” answered the messenger, “my lord your uncle ... the Count of Carlsheim too ... an ambuscade among the mountains ... both taken prisoners ... help! help for heaven’s sake!”— Our people hastened to assist the soldier, who seemed to be desperately wounded, and could scarcely hold himself upright through loss of blood; the agony, which this news occasioned me, instead of overpowering me like my friend, gave me additional strength, and I lost not a moment in hastening to attempt the rescue of our knights. I directed the preparations myself, and before an hour had elapsed, all the warriors whom my uncle had left behind to protect the Castle, were completely armed and ready to set out. I determined to head them myself; and being accoutred in a light suit of armour, I hastened to bid farewell to my afflicted friend (whom I had committed to the care of her women), and to comfort her with the hope of my returning crowned with success. —“What, Urania?” exclaimed Edith wringing her hands; “and do you too leave me?—Heavenly mercy! what will become of me! take me with you, Urania, or stab me before you go! foreboding terrors weigh down my heart! dreadful as my sufferings have been already, I feel that I have still much more to endure! Urania, we shall never meet again!”—