A pretty stream was humming past the willows, its banks covered with the poppy in full flower, a blaze of colour, magenta, white, scarlet, pink and blue picked out with hedges of roses.

The birds were as tame as in the Garden of Eden; magpies came almost to our feet; the sparrows took no notice of us; the falcons knew we would not molest them; the pigeons seemed to think we could not.

All was peaceful, and the peasants who sat with us under the cedars on the borders of the park were friendly and unobtrusive.

Long after sundown we reached, far from the regular stage, a lonely pair of houses, at one of which we found uncomfortable accommodation.

Fire had to be kindled in the room in a hollow in the ground; there was no ventilation, the wood was green, the smoke almost suffocating.