The man[oe]uvres of the infantry were by this time at an end, the crowd separated, and the young man, who had been the original cause of the foregoing conversation, was observed to bend his way also towards the town. His step was slow, and undecided; his face looked paler than usual, his eyes sought the ground, or wandered occasionally, with an expression of silent grief, towards the distant blue mountains, the boundaries of Würtemberg. Albert von Sturmfeder had never felt so unhappy as in these moments. Bertha had left Ulm with her father; she had made him swear again to be faithful to his promise, an act which he unavailingly felt to create a lurking regret in his breast. It had cost him no small struggle at the time, to consent to her wishes, but the overwhelming pain at parting from her, and the grief exhibited by the beloved girl, had mastered every feeling but that of desire to soothe the agony of her mind. His position was now one of extreme difficulty, when he calmly considered his future plans. To crush in the bud all those golden dreams and bright hopes of glory and honour, with which he thought to render himself worthy the hand of the daughter of Lichtenstein, was nothing, he felt, compared with the disgrace and contempt, which he must expect to meet at the hands of men, whose esteem was dear to him, for having deserted their colours, at a moment when the struggle was about to commence. How could he give a reason, or find words sufficiently convincing, to justify his conduct, before that gallant old friend of his father, Breitenstein? How could he appear before the noble Fronsberg? Ah, that friendly salute, with which he appeared to encourage the son of his brave companion in arms, produced a thousand torments. His father had fallen by his side, and he had heard him, in his dying moments, bequeath to his orphan child the renown of his name and a brilliant example, as his sole inheritance. Before this man, who, mindful of his father's bequest, had kindly opened to him a path which would lead to the accomplishment of his parent's wishes, he must now appear in very doubtful light. Troubled with these gloomy forebodings, he had slowly approached the gate of the town, when he was suddenly seized by the arm, and turning around, a man, to appearance a peasant, stood before him. "What is your business with me?" asked Albert, rather angrily, annoyed at being disturbed in his musing. "My answer will depend upon whether you are the person I am looking for," answered the man. "Tell me, what belongs to _Licht_ and _Sturm_?"