drop in my canteen, and I swore I'd protect the child. But I fear I'm
getting too old for the task."

The baroness, whose eyes were filled with tears, turned to her
husband, and asked,--

"Shall we not give a shelter to the child of a brave man?"

The baron nodded, and the proposal was accepted by Karl, who retired
into his cottage, and immediately reappeared, bringing forth a
beautiful girl of ten, with fair hair and blue eyes, and a form of
graceful symmetry.

"A girl! nonsense!" said the baron, in a tone of disappointment. But
the baroness folded the child in her arms with rapture. The child
responded to the caresses of the lady with equal ardor.

So the little Adelaide was soon domesticated in the castle which her
frolic spirit filled with gayety. The baroness renewed her youth in
gazing upon hers, and the baron never scolded her, even when she took
his pipe out of his mouth, or rummaged among his parchments.

As she grew up to womanhood, she became more serious and thoughtful.
She was anxious to learn every thing touching her father, but on this
subject the baroness could give her no information; and Karl, her
grandfather, seemed equally averse to speaking of it. When hard
pressed, he promised to speak out at some future time.

One day she was summoned in great haste to the cottage of old Karl.
The old man had suddenly been taken ill, and required the presence of