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anything？'
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'I hear the Bells； father。 Surely they're very loud to…night。'
'Is she asleep？' said Toby； making an excuse for peeping in。
'So peacefully and happily！ I can't leave her yet though； father。 Look
how she holds my hand！'
'Meg；' whispered Trotty。 'Listen to the Bells！'
She listened； with her face towards him all the time。 But it
underwent no change。 She didn't understand them。
Trotty withdrew； resumed his seat by the fire； and once more listened
by himself。 He remained here a little time。
It was impossible to bear it； their energy was dreadful。
'If the tower…door is really open；' said Toby； hastily laying aside his
apron； but never thinking of his hat； 'what's to hinder me from going up
into the steeple and satisfying myself？ If it's shut； I don't want any other
satisfaction。 That's enough。'
He was pretty certain as he slipped out quietly into the street that he
should find it shut and locked； for he knew the door well； and had so
rarely seen it open； that he couldn't reckon above three times in all。 It
was a low arched portal； outside the church； in a dark nook behind a
column； and had such great iron hinges； and such a monstrous lock； that
there was more hinge and lock than door。
But what was his astonishment when； coming bare…headed to the
church； and putting his hand into this dark nook； with a certain misgiving
that it might be unexpectedly seized； and a shivering propensity to draw it
back again； he found that the door； which opened outwards； actually stood
ajar！
He thought； on the first surprise； of going back； or of getting a light； or
a companion； but his courage aided him immediately； and he determined
to ascend alone。
'What have I to fear？' said Trotty。 'It's a church！ Besides； the
ringers may be there； and have forgotten to shut the door。' So he went in；
feeling his way as he went； like a blind man； for it was very dark。 And
very quiet； for the Chimes were silent。
The dust from the street had blown into the recess； and lying there；
heaped up； made it so soft and velvet…like to the foot； that there was
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The Chimes
something startling； even in that。 The narrow stair was so close to the
door； too； that he stumbled at the very first； and shutting the door upon
himself； by striking it with his foot； and causing it to rebound back heavily；
he couldn't open it again。
This was another reason； however； for going on。 Trotty groped his
way； and went on。 Up； up； up； and round； and round； and up； up； up；
higher； higher； higher up！
It was a disagreeable staircase for that groping work； so low and
narrow； that his groping hand was always touching something； and it often
felt so like a man or ghostly figure standing up erect and making room for
him to pass without discovery； that he would rub the smooth wall upward
searching for its face； and downward searching for its feet； while a chill
tingling crept all over him。 Twice or thrice； a door or niche broke the
monotonous surface； and then it seemed a gap as wide as the whole church；
and he felt on the brink of an abyss； and going to tumble headlong down；
until he found the wall again。
Still up； up； up； and round and round； and up； up； up； higher； higher；
higher up！
At length； the dull and stifling atmosphere began to freshen： presently
to feel quite windy： presently it blew so strong； that he could hardly keep
his legs。 But； he got to an arched window in the tower； breast high； and
holding tight； looked down upon the house…tops； on the smoking chimneys；
on the blur and blotch of lights （towards the place where Meg was
wondering where he was and calling to him perhaps）； all kneaded up
together in a leaven of mist and darkness。
This was the belfry； where the ringers came。 He had caught hold of
one of the frayed ropes which hung down through apertures in the oaken
roof。 At first he started； thinking it was hair； then trembled at the very
thought of waking the deep Bell。 The Bells themselves were higher。
Higher； Trotty； in his fascination； or in working out the spell upon him；
groped his way。 By ladders now； and toilsomely； for it was steep； and not
too certain holding for the feet。
Up； up； up； and climb and clamber； up； up； up； higher； higher； higher
up！
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Until； ascending through the floor； and pausing with his head just
raised above its beams； he came among the Bells。 It was barely possible
to make out their great shapes in the gloom； but there they were。
Shadowy； and dark； and dumb。
A heavy sense of dread and loneliness fell instantly upon him； as he
climbed into this airy nest of stone and metal。 His head went round and
round。 He listened； and then raised a wild 'Holloa！' Holloa！ was
mournfully protracted by the echoes。
Giddy； confused； and out of breath； and frightened； Toby looked about
him vacantly； and sunk down in a swoon。
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CHAPTER III … Third Quarter。
BLACK are the brooding clouds and troubled the deep waters； when
the Sea of Thought； first heaving from a calm； gives up its Dead。 Monsters
uncouth and wild； arise in premature； imperfect resurrection； the several
parts and shapes of different things are joined and mixed by chance； and
when； and how； and by what wonderful degrees； each separates from each；
and every sense and object of the mind resumes its usual form and lives
again； no man … though every man is every day the casket of this type of
the Great Mystery … can tell。
So； when and how the darkness of the night…black steeple changed to
shining light； when and how the solitary tower was peopled with a myriad
figures； when and how the whispered 'Haunt and hunt him；' breathing