no latch, no knocker; and from this I conjectured that the door could be opened only from within.  I was not in error; for, when I went nearer in order to touch the ornaments, it opened inwards; and there appeared a man whose dress was somewhat long, wide, and singular.  A venerable beard enveloped his chin, so that I was inclined to think him a Jew.  But he, as if he had divined my thoughts, made the sign of the holy cross, by which he gave me to understand that he was a good Catholic Christian.  “Young gentleman, how came you here, and what are you doing?” he said to me, with a friendly voice and manner.”  I am admiring,” I replied,” the workmanship of this door; for I have never seen any thing like it, except in some small pieces in the collections of amateurs.”—­“I am glad,” he answered, “that you like such works.  The door is much more beautiful inside.  Come in, if you like.”  My heart, in some degree, failed me.  The mysterious dress of the porter, the seclusion, and a something, I know not what, that seemed to be in the air, oppressed me.  I paused, therefore, under the pretext of examining the outside still longer; and at the same time I cast stolen glances into the garden, for a garden it was which had opened before me.  Just inside the door I saw a space.  Old linden-trees, standing at regular distances from each other, entirely covered it with their thickly interwoven branches; so that the most numerous parties, during the hottest of the day, might have refreshed themselves in the shade.  Already I had stepped upon the threshold, and the old man contrived gradually to allure me on.  Properly speaking, I did not resist; for I had always heard that a prince or sultan in such a case must never ask whether there be danger at hand.  I had my sword by my side too; and could I not soon have finished with the old man, in case of hostile demonstrations?  I therefore entered perfectly re-assured:  the keeper closed the door, which bolted so softly that I scarcely heard it.  He now showed me the workmanship on the inside, which in truth was still more artistic than the outside, explained it to me, and at the same time manifested particular good will.  Being thus entirely at my ease, I let myself be guided in the shaded space by the wall, that formed a circle, where I found much to admire.  Niches tastefully adorned with shells, corals, and pieces of ore, poured a profusion of water from the mouths of tritons into marble basins.  Between them were aviaries and other lattice-work, in which squirrels frisked about, guinea-pigs ran hither and thither, with as many other pretty little creatures as one could wish to see.  The birds called and sang to us as we advanced:  the starlings, particularly, chattered the silliest stuff.  One always cried, “Paris, Paris!” and the other, “Narcissus, Narcissus!” as plainly as a schoolboy can say them.  The old man seemed to continue looking at me earnestly while the birds called out thus; but I feigned not to notice it, and had in truth no time