There was a wide valley in the west. Far away in the distance there were huge mountains. These rose up, peak after peak. Yet even on those steep rocks trees were growing, their roots holding tight to cracks in the stone. I was clearly in a part of the castle which had been used by ladies in the old days. The furniture looked more comfortable than any I had seen in the castle before.

There were no curtains on the windows. The yellow moonlight shone in through the diamond-shaped glass. It was so bright that I could even see colours, but the light was soft enough to hide the dust which lay over everything. The moonlight also hid some of the damage done by time and moths.

My lamp was not much use in the brilliant moonlight, but I was glad to have it with me. The place had a terrible loneliness about it. It was a feeling which chilled my heart and made my nerves tremble. Still, it was better than being alone in my rooms. I had started to hate my rooms because the Count was often there. Now I tried for a moment to calm myself, and I found a soft feeling of peace come over me.

Here I am, sitting at a little oak table. Maybe in old times some pretty girl sat here. Perhaps she wrote a love letter, spelling badly, and blushing as she wrote. Now I sit in that same place writing in my diary about everthing that has happened since the last time I opened it. It is the nineteenth century now. And yet, somehow I feel that the old centuries had, and still have, powers of their own which these modern times cannot kill.