The green forest opposite sheds a vivid reflection on the white walls,
through the large windows of the castle. There is a lake and underneath
the windows were clusters of lilacs, petunia-blossoms and acacias, which
have grown pell-mell in the former parterre, and cover the hill that
slopes gradually to the road, following the banks of the lake and then
continuing through the woods.
The great, deserted hall, where the child who afterwards wrote _Rene_,
used to sit and gaze out of the windows, was silent. The clerk smoked
his pipe and expectorated on the floor. His dog, which had followed him,
hunted for mice, and its nails clicked on the pavement.
We walked up the winding stairs. Moss covers the worn stone steps.
Sometimes a ray of light, passing through a crack in the walls, strikes
a green blade and makes it gleam in the dark like a star.
We wandered through the halls, through the towers, and over the narrow
curtain with its gaping machicolations, which attract the eye
irresistibly to the abyss below.
On the second floor is a small room which looks out into the inside
courtyard and has a massive oak door that closes with a latch.
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