Gladly would we linger with them as they went slowly along through the deep valley of Landech, and, halting a day at the Pontlatzer Brücke, that Hans might describe the heroic defence of his countrymen against the French and Bavarian forces, and then, skirting along the Engadine, came in sight of the great Orteler Spitze,--the highest of the Tyrol Alps. And now they reached Nauders, and traversing a wild and dreary mountain tract, where even in autumn the snow is seen in clefts and crevices of the rock, they gradually gain the crest of the ridge, and look down at length on glorious Meran with the devotion of the pilgrim in sight of the Holy City. Hans knelt down and prayed fervently as his eyes beheld that garden valley with its vine-clad slopes and waving woods; its silvery river gliding along beneath bright villages and feudal castles. But soon he saw them no longer, for his eyes swam over with tears, and he sobbed like a child. “There, Fräulein, yonder, where you see the river winding to the southward, you see an old tower,--'the Passayer Turm,' it is called; the 'Fräu Mutter' lives there. I see some one in the garden.” And, overcome by emotion, he hid his face and wept. Near as they seemed to the end of their journey, it was night ere they gained the valley at the foot of the mountain. The cottages were closed, and, except in the town--still about a mile distant--not a light was to be seen. The Tyrolers are an early race, and retire to rest soon after dusk. Hanserl, however, wanted no guidance to the way, and trudged along in front of the cart, following each winding of the track as though he had gone it but the day before. Except a chance caution about the road, he never spoke,--his heart was full of “home.” The fatigue of a long day's journey, and the cold of the night air, had made Andy querulous and discontented, and it was all Nelly could do to answer the fretful questions and soothe down the irritation of the old man; but Hans heard nothing of either. At last they reached a little open space formed by a bend in the river, and came in sight of the old tower, at the foot of which, and abutting against it, stood a small cottage. A light gleamed from a little window, and no sooner had Hans seen it than he exclaimed,---- “Gott sey dank! Fräulein, she is well. That is the Fräu Mutter.” Poor Nelly's lip quivered as she tried to speak, for, humble as it was, what would she have given to have had even such a “home”? And now, passing through a little garden, Hans halted, and assisted Andy from the cart. “Where are we, at all? Sure this is n't a place to stop the night in!” cried the old man, querulously. “Hush, Andy, hush!” whispered Nelly. “'Tis thieves and vagabonds, maybe, lives here, Miss Nelly,” said he, in a low voice. “No, Andy, no; it is a kind welcome that awaits us.” “Ayeh!” exclaimed he, “I know betther than that!”