It will be necessary, however, that we should leave the Baron for awhile, and detail some occurrences germane to our tale, and which are necessary for its developement. And now as Mark Antony says, "Lend me your ear." Some years before the preceding events took place, there dwelt in a spot of the most romantic description, a personage known by the designation of Mynheer von Heidelberger. No one had either heard or could recollect when or whence he came. Strange rumours were afloat respecting this person, and the peasantry crossed themselves with fright if they were led near the spot where his dwelling was said to be; and if his name was casually mentioned in the circle round the winter's hearth, all involuntarily drew their seats into a closer space. Impelled by adventurous curiosity, many individuals were said to have visited him, for the purpose of obtaining some insight into futurity; for his knowledge of the future, and the "things that none may name," was reputed to be great. It was also rumoured that some of his visitants had never returned. About this time, by the sudden death of her father, the Baron Ernest, who was killed, it was believed, by a fall from his horse while hunting, Agatha von Keilermann was left sole and undisputed heiress of his vast domains. A prize so great, united to a fair person, caused many suitors to be on the alert; but they all met with ill success, being generally dismissed rather summarily. Ambition was always the ruling passion of Rudolf Wurtzheim, whose domains adjoined those of the Baron Ernest, and before the death of the latter it had also been allied to jealousy of his great power and wealth. Not daunted by the ill success of his predecessors, he became a suitor of the fair Agatha. He met with a summary repulse. Burning with rage and mortified ambition, the Baron bethought himself of Mynheer von Heidelberger, of whose fame he had sometimes heard. At the close of a day far advanced in autumn, he set off to visit this being. The howling of the wind as it came in fitful gusts through the openings of the forest, formed no bad accompaniment to his thoughts; while the indistinct twilight received little aid from the moon, which waded through heavy masses of clouds. The Baron, however, was a man of daring spirit. He had often been led past the spot, whilst engaged in the chase, near which the _solitaire_ was said to dwell:-- "Vague mystery hangs on all these desert places! The fear which hath no name hath wrought a spell, Strength, courage, wrath, have been, and left no traces! They came--and fled; but whither? who can tell!"