Alwyn during this speech had examined the countenance of his new acquaintance, and fancied, that he could read in it marks of a partiality for him by no means doubtful. His resolution was taken in a moment, and he threw himself at her feet. —“What brought me hither?” he exclaimed; “’twas Love, most beautiful of all earthly creatures! But who I am.... Ah! shall I dare to avow myself one of the lowliest among the inhabitants of yonder valley, and thus make it certain, that my suit will be rejected, and myself driven with scorn from the presence of her whom I adore?”— —“And who is it that you adore?” demanded Ursula. “You, lovely angel! you!” he exclaimed passionately, while he seized her hand, and prest upon it a thousand kisses; “my heart is devoted to you alone, and your cruelty will kill me!”— The astonished and delighted Ursula forced herself from his embrace, and fled; but it was not long before she returned, anxious to convince herself, that her half-faded charms had really made so valuable a conquest. To make a woman’s vanity believe any thing flattering, Heaven knows, is no difficult task; and half an hour was sufficient to leave her no doubt of her triumph. She soon grew weary of playing the prude, and she gave him to understand, that he would not find her heart absolutely marble; and thus did the handsome Alwyn find himself involved in an amour, at whose termination he could not guess, and of which, while it lasted, he thought, that he had but little reason to be vain. At present he reaped no great advantages from his artifice. It was impossible to get a sight of Amalberga, or convey to her a hint, that her friends in the valley were making preparations for her rescue. He was also soon compelled to retire by the return of the Governor, who was now frequently absent for days together from Rassburg on account of the popular disturbances, and who could only bestow a few isolated hours on the prosecution of his suit to the heiress of Sargans. As soon as the warder’s horn announced the Governor’s return, Ursula (who trembled, lest her supposed lover should be discovered by others, as he had been by her) requested him to be gone; yet still there was a secret means left for him to gain entrance into the fortress of the rock, which (disagreeable as it was) for Amalberga’s sake and the general advantage, he did not refuse to employ. At midnight his doating inamorata used to let a bucket down through a chasm in the wall; the rock was steep and flat; the unwilling Lover was then drawn up to the top, where he was obliged to purchase every little scrap of intelligence, which it was requisite for him to know, by a thousand lies and flattering speeches; every one of which, to an heart filled with Helvetian honesty, was scarcely less painful than the stab of a dagger.