The noonday sun was baking the deserted streets of Milan as Leonardo hurried across the drawbridge of the castle. The guard dozing in the entrance arch started to his feet, but when he saw who it was he sat down again, muttering about a madman. Taking the shortest way, Leonardo arrived at the monastery gate and pulled on the bellcord. When the gate opened Leonardo brushed past the startled monk and made directly for the scaffolding in the refectory. He looked at his almost completed painting for a moment, took a brush and mixed a color swiftly on the large palette. Then he climbed the scaffolding and very quickly applied three or four strokes. With this he sighed and smiled. Then, just as abruptly, he put away his brushes and, without a backward glance, he left, making his way back to the castle in the hot sun. For three years, Leonardo had been working this way on the “Last Supper.” Sometimes he would work from dawn to dusk forgetting to eat; other times, he would stay away for days and then run back just to add a touch. Once he arrived and, with his arms folded across his chest, he stood in front of it for two hours just studying what he had done. Now, in 1498, the painting was nearing completion and the only faces still left blank were those of Christ and Judas. Leonardo had drawn hundreds of sketches, taking his models wherever he found them—once he sketched a man just for his hands. Now that his name had become well known he always had an audience while he worked. His pupils, the monks, visiting nobility, church officials, and frequently Ludovico himself watched him as he painted the “Last Supper.” But Leonardo, as usual, was involved in many different tasks. He was supervising the installation of a hydraulic pump over seventy feet high beside a stream which would use the power of the stream itself to pump water into the castle. Mindful, too, of the uncertainty of court patronage, he was designing commercial machinery, hoping thereby to secure an income outside the court. Among the most notable of these were an olive press, an automatic file-cutter, a hydraulic saw, and a needle sharpener. This latter was a forerunner of modern sharpeners with their mass-production methods. With it, Leonardo dreamt of sharpening four hundred needles at a time, or forty thousand an hour so that in twelve hours one person could sharpen four hundred and eighty thousand needles! The needles were arranged successively on a moving belt of leather and brought against a rotating grindstone. This grindstone was set in such a way that the needles were sharpened into curvilinear points rather than the usual triangular points.