"Number 47," shouted the landlord, and went off to his other duties.
Bertha led the new guest up three flights of uncarpeted wooden staircase, down a long passage to a light, clean, but sparely-furnished room.

The girl told him the hours of meals, brought some water, and left him alone.

He hung his knapsack on a hook on the wall, opened the little window, and gazed long at the view.

Underneath was the open space where he had been standing, to the left the tower, and behind, over the ruined walls, he could see the old, neglected castle yard full of weeds and heaps of rubbish--a picture of decay and desolation.
"I have chosen well," thought Wilhelm, for he loved solitude, and promised himself enjoyable hours of wandering in the ruins in company with luxuriant flowers and singing birds.
He barely gave himself time to freshen his face with cold water, and to change his thick walking shoes for lighter ones; immediately hurrying out to make acquaintance with the castle.

Before he could get there he had first to find in the tumbledown wall a hole large enough to enable him to get through.