tion, and excluded the light and air as much as possible; still, many of the panes having been broken, little streams of the rain now beating against them came driving in; and a variety of small zephyrs, in the shape of draughts, did any thing but add to the Count's comfort. Half a tree would not have sufficed to fill the ample hearth, on which could just be perceived a flickering flame, almost lost in the immense volumes of smoke that rolled into the room, like waves on a beach; till Adalbert rushed in despair into the outward hall, which was inhabited by the one or two antique servitors who still remained in the large but ruinous building.
The sight of the old woman, whose wrinkled visage had driven him away in the first instance, might be shut out; now the smoke could not. Down he sat on a wooden stool, which must have been the first attempt ever made at a seat, so irregular were its shape and movements. This he drew to a table, whereon a most disconsolate supper was spread: twice the visitor looked down, to see whether he was cutting the meat or the wooden trencher.
Like most other young men, Count Adalbert had relations who conceived they knew better what was good for him than he did himself; and his uncle—whose experience was certainly very efficacious as a warning, and who believed that an error was easier to be prevented than remedied—on perceiving the young Count's predilection for the pret-
