man, and many other hidden works of
darkness, such as intercourse with spirits of evil, and the black
influences that lie in wait for the soul; and he found Anthony an apt
pupil. There he lived for some years till he was nearly thirty, seldom
visiting his home, and writing but formal letters to his father, who
supplied him gladly with a small revenue, so long as he kept apart and
troubled him not.

Then his father had died, and Anthony came home to take up his
inheritance, which was a plentiful one; he sold his land, and visiting
the town of Garchester, by chance, for it lay near his home, he had
lighted upon the Slype House, which lay very desolate and gloomy; and
as he needed a large place for his instruments and devices, he had
bought the house, and had now lived there for twenty years in great
loneliness, but not ill-content.

To serve him he had none but a man and his wife, who were quiet and
simple people and asked no questions; the wife cooked his meals, and
kept the rooms, where he slept and read, clean and neat; the man moved
his machines for him, and arranged his phials and instruments, having
a light touch and a serviceable memory.

The door of the house that gave on the street opened into a hall; to
the right was a kitchen, and a pair of rooms where the man and his
wife lived. On the left was a large room running through the house;
the windows on to the street were walled up, and the windows at the
back looked on the garden, the trees of which grew close to the
casements, making the room dark, and in a breeze rustling their leaves
or leafless branches against the panes. In this room Anthony had a
furnace with bellows, the smoke of which discharged itself into the
chimney; and here he did much of his work, making mechanical toys, as
a clock to measure the speed of wind or water, a little chariot that
ran a few yards by itself, a puppet that moved its arms and
laughed--and other things that had wiled away his idle hours; the room
was filled up with dark lumber, in a sort of order that would have
looked to a stranger like disorder, but so that Anthony could lay his
hand on all that he needed. From the hall, which was paved with stone,
went up the stairs, very strong and broad, of massive oak; under which
was a postern that gave on the garden; on the floor above was a room
where Anthony slept, which again had its windows to the street boarded
up, for he was a light sleeper, and the morning sounds of the
awak