many little throats poured forth their melodies as there were budding twigs. Among the blossoms there was constant warbling, chirping, twittering and cooing. The nightingale had hardly finished her night psalm when the lark began his morning lay. But in the frosty nights of winter different sounds were heard around the castle, and different was its appearance. Like the skeleton of a giant in a snowy pall it stood out in bold relief against the dark heavens; fierce winds raged in its recesses, and the howlings of wild animals were echoed through the gloom.
The castle had formerly been one undivided structure, but after the bastion partly caved in it was divided into two parts. The grander portion was left in its original condition to fall gradually into ruin. This part was called “Hlohov Castle.” The other part, called the “Palace,” was separated from the Castle by a garden.
Count Felsenburk’s grandfather, in order to be near his wife, who was buried there, had the Palace comfortably, though in a limited
