what had once been the splendid and hospitable mansion of the great
king-maker, Warwick, but was now broken up into endless little
tenements with their courts and streets, though the baronial
ornaments and the arrangement still showed what the place had been.

Entering beneath a wide archway, still bearing the sign of the Bear
and Ragged Staff, Lucas led the way into what must have been one of
the courts of offices, for it was surrounded with buildings and
sheds of different heights and sizes, and had on one side a deep
trough of stone, fed by a series of water-taps, intended for the use
of the stables. The doors of one of these buildings was unlocked by
Master Hansen, and Ambrose found himself in what had once perhaps
been part of a stable, but had been partitioned off from the rest.
There were two stalls, one serving the Dutchman for his living room,
the other for his workshop. In one corner stood a white earthenware
stove--so new a spectacle to the young forester that he supposed it
to be the printing press. A table, shiny with rubbing, a wooden
chair, a couple of stools, a few vessels, mirrors for brightness,
some chests and corner cupboards, a bed shutting up like a box and
likewise highly polished, completed the furniture, all arranged with
the marvellous orderliness and neatness of the nation. A curtain
shut off the opening to the other stall, where stood a machine with
a huge screw, turned by leverage. Boxes of type and piles of paper
surrounded it, and Ambrose stood and looked at it with a sort of
awe-struck wonder and respect as the great fount of wisdom. Hansen
showed him what his work would be, in setting up type, and by and by
correcting after the first proof. The machine could only print four
pages at a time, and for this operation the whole strength of the
establishment was required. Moreover, Master Hansen bound, as well
as printed his books. Ambrose was by no means daunted. As long as