The conquest of the country was, however, far from being complete with the capture of the capital. The greatest part of the hill country still held for the Duke, and, judging from the spirit of its inhabitants, they were not likely to submit to the first summons. This elevated district was commanded by two fortified places, Urach and Tübingen;--and so long as they remained firm to the Duke, the surrounding neighbourhood also determined not to desert his cause. In Urach, however, the citizens, fearful of the power of the League, wished to come to terms, whilst the garrison held faithful to their master. The two parties at last came to blows, in which the brave commander was killed, and the garrison was then obliged to surrender. By the middle of April Tübingen, which had been strongly fortified, was the only place left to the Duke. Ulerich confided the defence of the castle, with the care of his family and the treasure of his house, to forty gallant and experienced knights, having under them two hundred of the bravest of his countrymen. The position of this fortress was strong, and being well supplied with ammunition and provisions, all eyes in Germany looked to its fate with anxiety; for, Tübingen being a town of great repute in those days, it was thought that if it could but hold out until the Duke relieved it, he might then be able to re-conquer the country. The League, to frustrate their enemy's last hope, now marched against it with their whole force. The heavy steps of armed bodies of men sounded through the forests in their march towards the place; the vallies of the Neckar trembled under the tread of cavalry; the artillery, with the baggage and ammunition waggons, and all the apparatus for a long siege, which was brought with the army, left deep ruts in the fields as a witness of the coming event. Albert von Sturmfeder knew nothing of the progress of the war. A deep but sweet slumber, like a powerful enchantment, suspended the operations of his faculties for a long time. He suffered no inconvenience in this state of stupor, but resembled a child who, sleeping on the breast of its mother, occasionally opens its eyes to gaze at a world it knows not, and closes them again for a time. Pleasing dreams of better days soothed his situation, a placid smile often played upon his pale countenance, and comforted those who nursed him with tender solicitude. We will now introduce the reader to the humble cottage, which had received him with hospitality, and treated him with tender care the day after he had been wounded.