III.


The professor's house was on the hillside in the quarter where the
Orphan Asylum now stands. At that time there were very few dwellings in
the neighborhood, which was rather far from the centre of the town, and
the outlook was wide and varied. It was not the view, however, that had
attracted the professor, but the cheapness of the land. He had built the
house himself, and its walls were the fruit of many years of toil. Small
and modest as it was, it was his own; he was in debt to no man, and had
no rent to pay. This sweet feeling of independence quite made up for the
tiring climb that the corpulent little owner had to take twice a day up
the steep "River," as the street was called. The road bore this name (as
everybody knows who has visited Syra), because it had been the bed of a
stream that used to carry the winter rains from the mountain to the sea.
In fact, the water runs down the street to this day, and in the wet
season it becomes a raging torrent. Although the rocks and stones that
once lined its sides have given place to houses, with their doors raised
high above the flood, the origin of the street and the reason for its
name are obvious enough even now.

Fortunately, rains are rare in Syra, but when they do fall, the "River"
is often impassable; at such times the professor could reach his house
only by zigzags through the side streets, and there were days when all
communication was cut off, and he had to stay shut up at home.

The greatest pleasure that the house had brought him was that it had
enabled him to give his old mother the happiness of passing her last