sly at first, and
skimming up and down the columns; but with an earnest and a sad
attention, very soon.

For this same dreaded paper re-directed Trotty's thoughts into the
channel they had taken all that day, and which the day's events had so
marked out and shaped. His interest in the two wanderers had set him on
another course of thinking, and a happier one, for the time; but being
alone again, and reading of the crimes and violences of the people, he
relapsed into his former train.

"It's too true, all I've heard to-day," Toby muttered; "too just, too
full of proof. We're Bad!"

The Chimes took up the words so suddenly--burst out so loud, and clear,
and sonorous--that the Bells seemed to strike him in his chair.

And what was that, they said?

"Toby Veck, Toby Veck, waiting for you Toby! Toby Veck, Toby Veck,
waiting for you Toby! Come and see us, come and see us, Drag him to us,
drag him to us, Haunt and hunt him, haunt and hunt him, Break his
slumbers, break his slumbers! Toby Veck, Toby Veck, door open wide Toby,
Toby Veck, Toby Veck, door open wide Toby--" then fiercely back to their
impetuous strain again, and ringing in the very bricks and plaster on
the walls.

Toby listened. Fancy, fancy! His remorse for having run away from them
that afternoon! No, no. Nothing of the kind. Again, again, and yet a
dozen times again. "Haunt and hunt him, haunt and hunt him, Drag him to
us, drag him to us!" Deafening the whole town!

"Meg," said Trotty, softly; tapping at her door. "Do you hear anything?"

"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 toward 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
in 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