Its whitewashed walls stood out sharply against the background of green pine trees, clearly visible for many miles round.

A conspicuous inscription in large black letters showed that this audacious and picturesque house was the Schloss hotel, and a glance at the gray ruined tower which rose behind it gave at once a meaning to the name.
Behind the hill, with its outline softened by trees and encircled by the blue sky, were ridges of other hills in parallel lines meeting the horizon, alternately sharp-edged and rounded, stretching from north to south.

They seemed like some great sea, with majestic wave-hills and wave-valleys; behind the first appeared a second, then a third, then a fourth, as far as one's eye could see; each one of a distinct tone of color, and of all the shades from the deepest green through blue and violet to vaporous pale gray.
The sight of this picture had decided Wilhelm Eynhardt not to go any further.

The others had resolved to push on to Triberg the same day, and above all, not to turn back till they had bathed in the Boden-see.
As every persuasion was powerless to alter Eynhardt's decision, they separated, and the travelers started on their walk to Triberg.
Eynhardt, however, stayed at Hornberg, meaning to climb to the Schloss hotel again from the other side.
Wilhelm Eynhardt was a young man of twenty-four, tall and slim of figure, with a strikingly handsome face.

His eyes were almond-shaped, not large but very dark, with much charm of expression.