architecture of
the same time, but rude, vast, and menacing, even in decay. A wooden
bridge was thrown over the chasm, wide enough to admit two horsemen
abreast; and the planks trembled and gave back a hollow sound as Glyndon
urged his jaded steed across.

A road which had once been broad and paved with rough flags, but which
now was half-obliterated by long grass and rank weeds, conducted to the
outer court of the castle hard by; the gates were open, and half the
building in this part was dismantled; the ruins partially hid by ivy
that was the growth of centuries. But on entering the inner court,
Glyndon was not sorry to notice that there was less appearance of
neglect and decay; some wild roses gave a smile to the grey walls, and
in the centre there was a fountain in which the waters still trickled
coolly, and with a pleasing murmur, from the jaws of a gigantic Triton.
Here he was met by Mejnour with a smile.

"Welcome, my friend and pupil," said he: "he who seeks for Truth can
find in these solitudes an immortal Academe."

CHAPTER 4.II.

And Abaris, so far from esteeming Pythagoras, who taught these
things, a necromancer or wizard, rather revered and admired him
as something divine.--Iamblich., "Vit. Pythag."

The attendants whom Mejnour had engaged for his strange abode were such
as might suit a philosopher of few wants. An old Armenian whom Glyndon
recognised as in the mystic's service at Naples, a tall, hard-featured
woman from the village, recommended by Maestro Paolo, and two
long-haired, smooth-spoken, but fierce-visaged youths from the
same place, and honoured by the same sponsorship, constituted
the establishment. The rooms used by the sage were commodious and
weather-proof, with some remains of ancient splendour in the faded
arras that clothed the walls, and the huge tables of costly marble and
elaborate carving. Glyndon's sleeping apartment communicated with a kind
of belvedere, or terrace, that commanded prospects of unrivalled beauty
and extent, and was separated on the other side by a long gallery, and
a flight of ten or a dozen stairs, from the private chambers of the
mystic. There was about the whole place a sombre and yet not displeasing
depth of repose. It suited well with the studies to which it was now to
be appropriated.

For several days Mejnour refused to confer with Glyndon on the subjects
nearest to his heart.

"All without," said he, "is prepared, but not all with