"You must not be ungrateful, sir," said Maxx Stumpf von Schweinsberg, raising himself from his bent position: "be not unthankful for nature's kindness. Think how much more miserable you would have been, if in sleep, which should give you renewed strength to bear the burden of your misfortunes, you had still felt the weight of them. When you laid down to rest, you were overcome by the fatal result of the day, but now your features assume a kindlier and milder appearance; have we not, then, cause to be thankful for your soothing dream?" "I would I had never seen the day again!" replied Ulerich. "Oh, that I could have been lost in the pleasures of that same dream for centuries, and then have come to life again,--it was so beautiful, so consoling!" He laid his head on his hand, and appeared oppressed with grief. The conversation roused the knight of Lichtenstein. He was acquainted with the character of Ulerich, and knew the necessity of not allowing him to give way to his feelings, and, particularly at this critical moment, not to let him brood over the terrible loss he had sustained; he therefore drew nearer to him, and said: "Well, sir, perhaps you will tell us what you dreamt of? It may, perchance, afford your friends some consolation also; for you must know, I have faith in dreams, especially when they occupy our minds in hours of importance, and are fraught with destiny; I believe they are sent from above to raise our hopes, and arm us with fortitude." The Duke remained silent some time longer, apparently pondering over the last words of his old friend. He then began, "My brother-in-law, William of Bavaria, has burnt the castle of my ancestors this day, as a proof of his friendship. The Würtembergers have been established there from time immemorial, and the country which we possess takes its name from the same castle. He seems to have fired it with the torch of death, and with its flames to have wished to exterminate the arms, the remembrance, nay, even the very name of Würtemberg, from the face of the earth. He has partially succeeded; for my only son, young Christoph, is in a distant land; my brother, George, has no child; and I--I have been beaten and driven out; they have repossessed my country, and where can I look to the hope of returning to it again?" Ulerich was again silent. His mind appeared occupied with a subject too great for utterance. A peaceful serenity lay on the features of the unfortunate Prince, and an unusual expression beamed in his eyes as he directed them upwards to heaven. His companions looked at him in awful expectation of hearing some important communication resulting from his dream.