heltered
a pair of rustic tables where people might dine in the height of summer.
On all sides save one a dense vegetation concealed the soil; but there,
between the tables and the house, he saw a patch of gravel walk leading
from the verandah to the garden gate. Studying the place from between
the boards of the Venetian shutters, which he durst not open for fear of
attracting attention, Francis observed but little to indicate the
manners of the inhabitants, and that little argued no more than a close
reserve and a taste for solitude. The garden was conventual, the house
had the air of a prison. The green blinds were all drawn down upon the
outside; the door into the verandah was closed; the garden, as far as he
could see it, was left entirely to itself in the evening sunshine. A
modest curl of smoke from a single chimney alone testified to the
presence of living people.

In order that he might not be entirely idle, and to give a certain
colour to his way of life, Francis had purchased Euclid's Geometry in
French, which he set himself to copy and translate on the top of his
portmanteau and seated on the floor against the wall; for he was equally
without chair or table. From time to time he would rise and cast a
glance into the enclosure of the house with the green blinds; but the
windows remained obstinately closed and the garden empty.

Only late in the evening did anything occur to reward his continued
attention. Between nine and ten the sharp tinkle of a bell aroused him
from a fit of dozing; and he sprang to his observatory in time to hear
an important noise of locks being opened and bars removed, and to see
Mr. Vandeleur, carrying a lantern and clothed in a flowing robe of
black velvet with a skull-cap to match, issue from under the verandah
and proceed leisurely towards the garden gate. The sound of bolts and
bars was then repeated; and a moment after, Francis perceived the
Dictator escorting into the house, in the mobile light of the lantern,
an individual of the lowest and most despicable appearance.

Half an hour afterwards the visitor was reconducted to the street; and
Mr. Vandeleur, setting his light upon one of the rustic tables, finished
a cigar with great deliberation under the foliage of the chestnut.
Francis, peering through a clear space among the leaves, was able to
follow his gestures as he threw away the ash or enjoyed a copious
inhalation; and beheld a cloud upon the old man's brow and a forcible