Into the creek falls over a precipice a mountain-stream, which never fails in volume of water.

On the western shore of that creek is the Castle, a huge pile of buildings of every style of architecture, from the Twelfth century to where such things seemed to stop in this dear old-world land--about the time of Queen Elizabeth.

So it is pretty picturesque.

I can tell you.

When we got the first glimpse of the place from the steamer the officer, with whom I was on the bridge, pointed towards it and said: "That is where we saw the dead woman floating in a coffin." That was rather interesting, so I asked him all about it.