The courtyard was deserted and the calm water that filled the moats remained motionless and flat under the pond-lilies.
The sky was white and cloudless, but without sunshine.

Its bleak curve extended far away, covering the country with a cold and cheerless monotony.

Not a sound could be heard, the birds did not sing, even the horizon was mute, and from the empty furrows came neither the scream of the crows as they soar heavenward, nor the soft creaking of plough-wheels.
We climbed down through brambles and underbrush into a deep and dark trench, hidden at the foot of a large tower, which stands in the water surrounded by reeds.

A lone window opens on one side: a dark square relieved by the grey line of its stone cross-bar.

A capricious cluster of wild honeysuckle covers the sill, and its maze of perfumed blossoms creeps along the walls.