He then wrote for them a pass to the grounds of the royal palace
of Graustark, affixing his seal. In giving this last to them he
found occasion to say that the princess had instructed him to
extend every courtesy possible to an American citizen. It was
then that Anguish asked if he might be permitted to use his
camera. There was an instant and emphatic refusal, and they
were told that the pass would be rescinded if they did not leave
the camera outside the gates. Reluctantly Anguish deposited his
luckless box in the steward's office, and they passed into the
broad avenue which led towards the palace.

A guard, who served also as a guide, stepped to their side
before they had taken ten paces. Where he came from they never
knew, so instantaneous was his appearance. He remained with
them during the two hours spent in the wonderful park.

The palace stood in the northwestern part of the grounds,
possibly a half mile from the base of the mountain. Its front
faced the mountain side. The visitors were not permitted to go
closer than a quarter of a mile from the structure, but attained
a position from which it could be seen in all its massive,
ancient splendor. Anguish, who had studied churches and old
structures, painted the castles on the Rhine, and was something
of a connoisseur in architecture, was of the opinion that it had
been standing for more than five hundred years. It was a vast,
mediaeval mass of stone, covered with moss and ivy, with towers,
turrets and battlements. There had been a moat in bygone
days, but modern ideas had transformed the waterway into solid,
level ground. This they learned afterwards. Broad avenues