ty,
or this old host of mine must be an extraordinary individual. On the
evening of the fourth day, feeling tired of my confinement, I put my
clothes on in the best manner I could, and left the chamber. Descending
a flight of stairs, I reached a kind of quadrangle, from which branched
two or three passages; one of these I entered, which had a door at the
farther end, and one on each side; the one to the left standing partly
open, I entered it, and found myself in a middle-sized room with a large
window, or rather glass-door, which looked into a garden, and which stood
open. There was nothing remarkable in this room, except a large quantity
of china. There was china on the mantelpiece--china on two tables, and a
small beaufet, which stood opposite the glass-door, was covered with
china--there were cups, teapots, and vases of various forms, and on all
of them I observed characters--not a teapot, not a teacup, not a vase of
whatever form or size, but appeared to possess hieroglyphics on some part
or other. After surveying these articles for some time with no little
interest, I passed into the garden, in which there were small parterres
of flowers, and two or three trees, and which, where the house did not
abut, was bounded by a wall. Turning to the right by a walk by the side
of the house, I passed by a door--probably the one I had seen at the end
of the passage--and arrived at another window similar to that through
which I had come, and which also stood open. I was about to pass by it,
when I heard the voice of my entertainer exclaiming, 'Is that you? Pray
come in.'

I entered the room, which seemed to be a counterpart of the one which I
had just left. It was of the same size, had the same kind of furniture,
and appeared to be equally well stocked with china; one prominent article
it possessed, however, which the other room did not exhibit--namely, a
clock, which, with its pendulum moving tick-a-tick, hung against the wall
opposite to the door, the sight of which made me conclude that the sound
which methought I had heard in the stillness of the night was not an
imaginary one. There it hung on the wall, with its pendulum moving
tick-a-tick. The old gentleman was seated in an easy chair a little way
into the room, having the glass door on his right hand. On a table
before him lay a large open volume, in which I observed Roman letters as
well as characters. A few inches beyond the book on the table, covered
all