Suddenly a warrior, in heavy armour, came rattling forth from the coverts of the woody cliffs. Sir Otto, being quite uncertain whether the soldier who came thus before him was friend or foe, placed himself accordingly in an attitude of defence; while the stranger, without bestowing on him any notice whatever, hastily passed him by. But the single fleeting glance, which Sir Otto had of his countenance, utterly deprived him of all strength, and paralyzed his limbs, making the blood run cold with horror, even to his very heart. It was, in truth, his own features that he then beheld,--his own blooming youthful countenance, though beneath an unwonted helmet; and the lineaments were so clearly revealed to him by the moonlight, which just then began to break forth, that it seemed almost as if he saw his own figure reflected in a mirror. “It is not true, this cannot be possible!” said the Knight of Trautwangen, after a long pause of deep silence. “Here I stand firm, sound both in body and spirit, and trusting in the protection of Heaven. How is it possible then that I should be thus horribly divided, and gliding along like a ghost through those impassable cliffs? Or from the fatigue of yesterday’s combat have I become insane? Or has some demon of the Finland mountains determined then, for his special diversion, to mislead and torment me? I ought indeed to have run up to him, to have thrown back my visor, and looked him full in the face. It was but my closed helmet that gave him such courage; for, had our eyes met together, he durst not any longer have attempted such deception.” He paused; for hereupon it seemed as if he heard a mild female voice calling to him from the lofty cliffs, “Otto, Otto! be not so wild of mood! Beware of those leaps from rock to rock!” He heard his own name; yet the words could not have been addressed to himself; and his blood felt again as if frozen in every vein. At length he regained his wonted courage, stood up erect, and addressed himself to a moss-grown half-ruined watch-tower, which stood on one of the cliffs above, and whence the female voice had proceeded: “I am indeed Otto von Trautwangen, and now stand firm in my place, without dreaming of such mad tricks, as that of leaping from rock to rock. As for the fellow who now does so, Heaven only knows who or what he is. If the caitiff dares to say, however, that he is the Knight of Trautwangen, he lies in his throat; for I alone may bear that name.” The moonlight now shone upon the watch-tower, and as Sir Otto pronounced these words, he saw a female figure in white robes retiring from a bow-window; but, at the same moment, his mysterious double-goer appeared with frightful accuracy of resemblance, on a sharp rocky cliff, almost close to the tower, and called aloud, while his form was again fully revealed by the moonlight, “What is it that fellow would have there in the valley? Let him be called Otto von Trautwangen as long as he will for aught that I