then glided from my arms as swift as an arrow from a bow.
For a long time after I remained transfixed to the spot, whilst my eye followed her rapidly proceeding on her way, and I could distinguish her white, aerial form gliding through the dark avenues of the trees to a great distance, till, at last, I could perceive her no more.
I softly pronounced the beloved name of Liesli to the silent breezes of the night; and spreading out my arms towards her vanishing figure, embraced—the hermit! I was seized with terror and astonishment, and retreated back some paces; for the contrast between the coarse and heavy garb of the anchorite, and that of the light-flowing drapery of the lovely Liesli, was too great, too overpowering.
“Whence come you?” he enquired, in a tone indicating dissatisfaction.
“Ah! is it you venerable father,” I exclaimed, recollecting myself: “I hardly knew you, it is so dark and gloomy amidst these trees, that one can scarcely distinguish the nearest object. I have just come from your hermitage, where I wished to pay you a visit.”
“I have been absent all the day,” he answered; “was any one, besides you, inquiring for me?”
“Not a soul,” I replied, for there was certainly no need to inform him how in the interim I had been so happily engaged with Liesli. I know no time so favourable for uttering a falsehood, as the hour of night; it is for that reason the devil is designated the ‘prince of darkness.’ The lie slipped so smoothly over my tongue, that I was really completely pleased and satisfied with my address.
“I have brought with me something for you,” said the old man, slipping into my hand a small folded paper; “do not, however, open it till you have returned home, as it is of value, and here you might lose it. I shall, doubtless, see you to-morrow morning?”
“Most certainly, holy father,” I replied, in order that he