On the day fixed she had brought the captive's allowance of food about noon, as usual, when on leaving the cell and making her way downstairs she was accosted by one of the steward's sons who had sought her favour. She was horrified to find that he suspected the plot, and that the price of his silence was her honour. She hesitated, and pitifully entreated him to spare her, but to no avail. Then, when he told her that not only would discovery mean her own death in all probability, but certainly the death of her lover, she yielded. About sundown she left the castle, and mad with grief at the shame and insult she had been compelled to suffer, she wandered about until it was dark. She had determined to assure herself of her lover's escape, and then to cast herself from the steepest point of the rock upon which the Castle stands down into the valley below. In the dusk she at length saw faintly a black figure descending against the wall, and then she heard cautious footsteps approaching the thicket in which she stood concealed. With a half-stifled cry which she could not altogether suppress, she hurried through the undergrowth, and was within a few yards of the edge of the rock, when she was seized by her lover and saved from destruction. The story goes on to say that they both escaped, and that the knight eventually married (and, let us hope, lived happily with) the brave girl who had compassed his deliverance. [Illustration: A PEEP OF KITZBÜHEL] The town of Kufstein itself does not call for extended description. But one feature that immediately prepossesses the visitor in its favour, if one arrive, as we did when last there, on a hot summer day, is the number of shady promenades to be found, more especially on the east side of the town, in the neighbourhood of the delightfully picturesque Kiengraben. None should fail to visit the Calvarienberg, from which there are delightful and extensive views of the Castle, town, and valley. [Sidenote: KUFSTEIN TO KITZBÜHEL]