My long pilgrimage was without any incidents deserving of record. At last I had arrived amid the well-known Thuringian mountains; and one morning, through the dense vapours that lingered in a valley before me, I beheld a castle, which I instantly recognized to be that of the late Baron von F----. As I came nearer, alas! how was the scene now changed from what it had been! The walks and ornaments of the parks were become a wilderness of ruin and devastation. The shrubberies, parterres, and young plantations, were either torn up by the cattle, or converted into ploughed fields. The road on which I walked, after entering the path, was overgrown with moss and weeds; and even the beautiful lawn before the mansion-house, that used to be so carefully kept, was now covered with a herd of cattle, and another of swine, that had rooted up all its verdure. The windows of the castle, too, were broken, and looked ghastly. The steps leading up to the principal entry were ruinous, and covered with lichens and grass that waved in the wind. Through the whole domain there seemed not to be one living being. All was neglected and lonely. On passing through a dense thicket, which had once been my favourite walk, I heard an obscure sound of moaning and lamentation. Then I perceived a grey-headed old man at some distance, who, though his countenance was turned towards me, did not seem in the least to notice my presence or approach. On the contrary, when I came almost close to him, he uttered, as if talking to himself in deep reverie, the words,--"Dead--dead and gone,--all dead and gone, whom I once loved in this world. Oh, Aurelia! thou, too, the last, art dead to all sublunary enjoyments!" I now recognized Reinhold, the old intendant, though grief had so much changed his appearance, that at first I knew not who he was. I had do wish to speak with any one, but now remained as if involuntarily rooted to the spot. "Aurelia dead!" cried I. "No, no, old man, thou art misinformed. The power of the all-seeing and omniscient Judge protected her from the stiletto of the murderer!" The old man started at these words as if he had been struck by lightning. "Who is here?" cried he, vehemently--"Who is here?--Leopold! Leopold!" A boy now sprung out from the thicket, and on perceiving me, pronounced the customary salutation--"_Laudetur Jesus Christus!_"--"_In omnia sæcula sæculorum_" answered I. Then the old man raised himself up. "Leopold! Leopold!" said he, with great energy; "Who is among us? What is this man?" Now, for the first time, I perceived that Reinhold was blind. The boy answered him. "A reverend monk, Herr Intendant; a monk of the Capuchin order." Upon these words, it seemed as if the old man was seized by the utmost terror and abhorrence.