"But what did you do for your money,
grandfather?" asked a practical little maiden.

"You shall hear, directly. As I went
slowly down the mountain, taking another
road, that I might not again see the
Bergmand'l, I heard an unearthly voice, which
seemed to come from the ground, say, In
fourteen days I might find my money laid on
a stone, either at the Grünschacher, Cahas,
Alnigipsel, or the Raxalm. * However, I
took good care not to answer; as I suppose
you will think."

* Well-known heights of the Schneeberg

There was again a slight movement of
assent, which was stopped by the narrator
continuing.

"But the story is not yet ended. Ten
years afterwards our honoured pastor sent
for me, and gave me ten ducats as the gift
of two gentlemen whom I had guided up
to the Kaiserstein, and who had then
disappeared. I would not touch their money, and
told the pastor how it all happened, and I
insisted on his giving the money to the
poor, as I knew there would be no luck in it.
—This was the first time that I saw the
Bergmand'l."

"And did you ever see it again?" asked
the children, with one tongue.

"Yes. Not half a year ago," returned the
grandfather.

"But, grandfather, we have never heard
you tell us anything about that."

"Well, then, I tell it you now. You
know that last summer two gentlemen took
it into their heads to have no other guide
than old Fellner Franz to take them up the
Schneeberg. They had everything very
comfortable; they had servants to carry everything,
and a pack-horse for the provisions; so
that I could walk up, quite free. We set
off, towards evening, from Buchberg; and, I
don't know how it was, but there seemed
something about the two gentlemen that
reminded me of my old adventure with the
Bergmand'l; perhaps, it being the same fine
sort of moonlight night might have had
something to do with it. But, however, it happened,
when we got to the stump of the tree, there
was the moon shining through just as before,
and there sat the Bergmand'l. But how was
he dressed? a coat of Styrian cloth, a Styrian
hat, with a feather and a goat's beard; and
there, as I'm alive, beside him sat a girl, a
young winsome thing, that I suppose he must
have just married, for they seemed to be so
taken up with one another that they did not
even notice me. So, I got on with my party
as quickly as I could, and thought it was
better not to look at them, for fear the
Bergmand'l should grow angry."

To this view of the question the children
readily assented.

"But what is the matter with 'Loisl',
grandfather?" asked the careful mother.

"Loisl," who, during the latter part of her
grandfather's story, had appeared particularly
thoughtful, now turned so pale, that her
mother led her off to her bedroom at once;
and on her return, bitterly reproached the
"Fellner" for the harrowing effect of his tale.

"Let well alone," said the old man, laughing.
"I hear a hound and his master that
will soon put all to rights;" and as he
spoke, the Count's forester, accompanied by
a fine dog, entered the room; and, shaking
the snow from his coat, greeted them heartily.
He was a fine, frank-looking fellow, of some
two-and-twenty. An hour more might have
passed, when Fellner Franz went gently to
a chamber-door,—"Loisl, are you still awake?"
he called, softly.

"I shall not close an eye all night,
grandfather."

"Tut! come out, you little puss. The
Count's forester is here, and nobody knows
anything. He is a brave lad, and his betters
all like him. Come, come; you are not
angry with me, 'Loisl'! I have not really
betrayed you. And, now that you are going
to be married, it is all the same."

Instead of an answer, "Loisl" came out,
and threw her arms round the neck of the
kind old man. He is not altogether such a
bad person for a grand-daughter to coax;
for it is more than whispered Fellner Franz
has got no small sum in silver hidden in the
ground, according to the custom of his class;
who consider that the surest way of laying
by their savings, is to bury them.

The Bergmand'l is still a mystery and a
terror to the family. I, however, got it
partly cleared up by the pastor of the village,
who permitted me to copy the letter which
enclosed the long-withheld guide's fee. The
"two demons," who wrote it, were, at the
time it was dated, already struggling their
names, as great men, into history; where they
have since been indelibly recorded. This is
the letter:—

"Worthy Sir,

"The writers of these lines are obliged
to take these means of relieving their
consciences of a debt which they incurred, when
students, ten years ago. Will you be kind
enough to give the enclosed gold pieces to
the man who then acted as guide up the
Schneeberg to two youngsters; and, after
fancying he saw the Bergmand'l, was still
farther alarmed by our sudden disappearance
at the Kaiserstein? I dare say you
will easily find him out. We had then
light purses and silly heads. Finding, when
we got to Buchberg, that we had spent all
our money, instead of openly confessing it,
and leaving something behind us as a pledge,
we took the far less proper means of running
away to get out of our difficulties. Trusting
to your courtesy to excuse our boldness, we
are———"

Here follow two names famous all over
Europe. A history of the honeymoon of