—“I do not wish,” said he, “that my uncle’s conduct towards me should undergo too nice an examination; nor during his lifetime do I insist, that my inheritance should be restored to me. I only demand for the present to be acknowledged as a descendant of the house of Montfort, and for the future to be protected in obtaining those advantages, to which I may be able to substantiate a lawful claim.—I am not desirous of expelling the old Count from the station, which he has so long occupied; I only demand, that when his death shall leave that station vacant, I may succeed to that, which in justice is my birth right.”— The Emperor Albert, who was already aware that under the administrations of the debauched Venceslaus, and the careless Sigismund (his immediate predecessors) much partiality had taken place in settling the affairs of the Montfort family, and who besides wished most anxiously to serve his favourite in every point that was not repugnant to justice, heard the above declaration with pleasure, and praised the youthful warrior’s generosity. Albert himself was generous, and it delighted him, when others acted, as _he_ would have acted himself. On the next day Henry was declared by the emperor to be a Count of Montfort, and was allotted a command suitable to his high rank and distinguished services. This change of name contributed to support the erroneous belief, that Erwin Melthal had never been heard of since the battle of Bender, and that in all probability he had fallen in the field. Ida therefore was sorrowing for his loss at the very moment, that he was hastening back to the beloved valley, crowned with laurels, and determined to share with her his honours and his happiness. Alas! that beloved valley was no longer to be recognised! dreadful storms had laid it waste; the mountain-torrents had deluged the country; and when he at length with difficulty had reached Tell’s habitation, he found it silent and empty—the dreadful pestilence, which had more than decimated the unfortunate inhabitants of those quarters, had raged with peculiar fury in the house of Tell; but he was informed, that a remnant of the family had taken refuge (so at least it was rumoured) in the Convent of Engelberg. Thither Henry repaired without loss of time, but he found no one capable of giving him either present comfort or future hope. His apprehensions were converted into despair, when in reply to his enquiries Tell’s humble grave was pointed out to him, and when he beheld near it two smaller graves, which (he was assured) contained the bodies of two of the old man’s grand-daughters. It is probable, that this assurance was given not without foundation, for several of the grand-children of Tell had followed him to Engelberg, and had there fallen a prey to the inveteracy of the prevalent disease.