The large window that now follows has double curtains--white on the outside, and lined with the same flowered chintz with which the furniture in the room is covered. In this bay window stand a walnut writing-table, inlaid with designs in ivory, and a small sofa and easy chair; while on the wall hangs a plan of Varzin and of the estates attached thereto. This is said to be one of the Chief’s favourite haunts. It is easy to believe it, as it offers a pleasant prospect--a pond in the foreground, on one side a corner of the park with two fine trees, an oak and a beech, standing alone, and under them a bench which invites to rest, while in the background a stretch of rising arable land, which in summer delights the eye with waving fields of corn, leads to dark wooded heights beyond. Opposite the bay window, and with its back turned towards it, there is a large sofa with a number of cushions. Among them is one of light blue velvet, on which the following is embroidered in silver thread: “Exodus xxxiii. 12; Psalms xviii. 28.” Beneath this inscription is a crown, and a monogram formed of the letters O, B and E, with the date “28 July, 1847-1872.” It is a gift presented to the Chancellor on his silver wedding. As I can hardly expect all my gentle readers to have a Bible at hand, I quote the passages referred to: “And Moses said unto the Lord, See, thou sayest unto me, Bring up this people: and thou hast not let me know whom thou wilt send with me. Yet thou hast said, I know thee by name, and thou hast found grace in my sight.” “For thou wilt light my candle: the Lord my God will enlighten my darkness.” A narrow dark passage leads from the Chancellor’s bedroom, which also opens on to the park, down a few steps on the right to the bathroom. On the same side, through a mysterious little doorway at the head of a narrow winding staircase, the eye loses itself in the darkness of what seems to be a bottomless abyss. Inspired by the spirit of George Louis Hesekiel, I suggested “The dungeon keep?” The Prince smiled as he replied, “Only a postern gate.” And he then explained it enables him to retreat unobserved when he is threatened with tiresome visits. The prospect of such visits suggested the idea of providing an escape when the house was being built. “When unwelcome acquaintances make their appearance,” he said, “I slip out here, and bring myself in safety to a certain bench in the park, where I wait till I am told that the danger is over. We have named this door after Senfft-Pilsach, a loquacious bore; but you must not publish that, as he is still living.” The length of this subterranean passage, the exit from it, and the place of safety to which the pursued makes his escape, must remain untold so long as the Prince spends part of his time at Varzin, as otherwise the object of the contrivance would be frustrated. The particulars now given are intended to warn those who may consider this contrivance to be directed against them.