CHAPTER I. SIR LUDWIG OF HOMBOURG
_ It was in the good old days of chivalry, when every mountain that bathes its shadow in the Rhine had its castle: not inhabited, as now, by a few rats and owls, nor covered with moss and wallflowers, and funguses, and creeping ivy. No, no! where the ivy now clusters there grew strong portcullis and bars of steel； where the wallflower now quivers in the rampart there were silken banners embroidered with wonderful heraldry； men-at-arms marched where now you shall only see a bank of moss or a hideous black champignon； and in place of the rats and owlets, I warrant me there were ladies and knights to revel in the great halls, and to feast, and to dance, and to make love there. They are passed away:--those old knights and ladies: their golden hair first changed to silver, and then the silver dropped off and disappeared for ever； their elegant legs, so slim and active in the dance, became swollen and gouty, and then, from being swollen and gouty, dwi

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