been fifteen years ago, my sister would still have been living, the
dear, pious Adele! She dwelt with my uncle close on the confines of
Neufchatel, as thou knowest, scarcely a quarter of a mile from Le
Locle--_the town_, as we called it, because it was the largest
place in the neighborhood. Now there are only distant relations of
mine living, who have forgotten me. I am a stranger there. Denmark
gave me bread, it will also give me a grave!"

"I thought of giving thee a pleasure!" said Otto.

"That thou dost by thy love to me!" returned she.

"I thought thou wouldst have shown me thy mountains, thy home, of
which thou hast so often spoken!"

"That can I still do. I remember every spot, every tree--all
remains so clear in my recollection. Then we ascend together the
Jura higher and higher; here are no more vineyards to be found, no
maize, no chestnuts only dark pines, huge cliffs, here and there a
beech, as green and large as in Denmark. Now we have the wood
behind us, we are many feet above the sea; thou canst perceive this
by the freshness of the air. Everywhere are green meadows;
uninterruptedly reaches our ear the ringing of the cow-bells. Thou
as yet seest no town, and yet we are close upon Le Locle. Suddenly
the road turns; in the midst of the mountain-level we perceive a
small valley, and in this lies the town, with its red roofs, its
churches, and large gardens. Close beneath the windows rises the
mountain-side, with its grass and flowers; it looks as though the
cattle must be precipitated upon the houses. We go through the long
street, past the church; the inhabitants are Protestants--it is a