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 outward, 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
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!

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 "Halloa!"

Halloa! 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.

THIRD QUARTER.

When and how the darkness of the night-black steeple changed to shining
light; and how the solitary tower was peopled with a myriad figures;
when and how the whispered "Haunt and hunt him," breathing monotonously
through his sleep or swoon, became a voice exclaiming in the waking ears
of Trott