I passed to my room and went to bed, and, strange to say, slept without dreaming. Despair has its own calms.This morning when I woke I thought I would provide myself with some papers and envelopes from my bag and keep them in my pocket, so that I might write in case I should get an opportunity, but again a surprise, again a shock!

Every scrap of paper was gone, and with it all my notes, my memoranda, relating to railways and travel, my letter of credit, in fact all that might be useful to me were I once outside the castle. I sat and pondered awhile, and then some thought occurred to me, and I made search of my portmanteau and in the wardrobe where I had placed my clothes.

The suit in which I had travelled was gone, and also my overcoat and rug. I could find no trace of them anywhere. This looked like some new scheme of villainy.

17 June. This morning, as I was sitting on the edge of my bed cudgelling my brains, I heard outside a crackling of whips and pounding and scraping of horses' feet up the rocky path beyond the courtyard. With joy I hurried to the window, and saw drive into the yard two great waggons, each drawn by eight strong horses, and at the head of each pair a Slovak, with his wide hat, great nail-studded belt, dirty sheepskin, and high boots.

Vocabulary:

Scrap: Small unwanted piece
Memoranda: Notes with reminders
Letter of credit: A letter from a bank saying you have money
Ponder:Think deeply
Portmanteau: A cloth suitcase
Villainy: Evil-doing
Cudgelling my brains: Thinking hard
Pounding: Hitting with something heavy