While on the subject of castles--and you must forgive me for rambling,--I should like to tell you about another one that stands some little way farther up the valley of the Berounka, tucked away out of sight of the railway. The history of this Castle of Křivoklát dates yet farther back than that of Karlov Týn, for we read of its restoration in the twelfth century by Prince Vladislaus I, a scion of the House of Přemysl. Charles IV loved to live here, and restored the place for the first of his four wives, Blanche of Valois. Other guests more or less distinguished visited here, some of them involuntarily; these latter were generally lodged in the Huderka Tower suitably fitted with oubliettes. Among these guests were two already mentioned, a leading religious light, John Augusta, Bishop of the Bohemian Brethren, and another less certain light, Kelly, the Irish alchemist. "Irish alchemist" has rather a racy flavour; the idea of an Irishman engaged in such pursuit suggests endless ingenuous possibilities. With Kelly was also the Englishman, Dr. John Dee, who was in like condemnation. No doubt the two were a precious pair of rogues, but King Rudolph II had asked for trouble by encouraging alchemists from all over Europe to visit him in Prague. The present-day compeers of Dee and Kelly are no doubt the self-constituted experts on politics, finance, commerce and other questions which puzzle international commissions, conferences and such-like amenities of our times. Anyway, Dr. Dee and Mr. Kelly failed to give satisfaction, and so were incarcerated at Křivoklát. A charming place it must have been when the forests were denser and shy deer tripped down to the water's edge of an evening. Charming it is still with its haunting memories that seem to linger more fondly than at Karlov Týn, perhaps because the modern renovator has not been so busy here. The quaint old corners still have an old-world, homely look which the renovator invariably destroys. Despite the trees that add deep shadows to the sombre masonry, you may yet call up visions of knights tilting in the uneven overgrown courtyard while fair ladies looked on from a balcony specially added for the purpose, and in such manner as to produce a very quaint effect of perspective. You may yet imagine yourself as one of a reverent crowd listening awestruck to bold utterance of religious truths from a Bohemian preacher in that beautiful pulpit of carved stone which still adorns the gateway that leads to the inner court. And if you have the gift of placing yourself back among those earnest seekers after truth who lived in and suffered for their faith, you will draw nearer to the real spirit of the sons of Bohemia.