t say that you hev, mester, for I've been standing ready to
stop you if you did."

Vane laughed.

"Now, then, start the pendulum," he said; "and then put the hands
right."

He went to the side to start the swinging regulator himself but the
sexton again stopped him.

"Nay," he said; "that's my job, lad;" and very slowly and cautiously he
set the bob in motion.

"There, I told you so," cried Vane; "only wanted a drop of oil."

For the pendulum swung _tic_--_tac_--_tic_--_tac_ with beautiful
regularity. Then, as they listened it went _tic_--_tic_. Then _tic_
two or three times over, and there was no more sound.

"Didn't start it hard enough, Mike," cried Vane; and this time, to the
sexton's horror, he gave the pendulum a good swing, the regular
_tic_--_tac_ followed, grew feeble, stopped, and there was an outburst
as if of uncanny laughter from overhead, so real that it was hard to
think that it was only a flock of jackdaws just settled on the
battlements of the tower.

"Oh, come, I'm not going to be beaten like this," cried Vane, "I know I
can put the old clock right."

"Nay, nay, not you," said the sexton firmly.

"But I took our kitchen clock to pieces, and put it together again; and
now it goes splendidly--only it doesn't strike right."

"Mebbe," said the sexton, "but this arn't a kitchen clock. Nay, Master
Vane, the man 'll hev to come fro Lincun to doctor she."

"But let me just--"

"Nay, nay, you don't touch her again."

The man was so firm that Vane had to give way and descend, forgetting
all about the piece of leather he wanted, and parting from the sexton at
the door as the key was turned, and then walking back home, to go at
once to his workshop and sit down to think.

There was plenty for him to do--any number of mechanical contrivances to
go on with, notably the one intended to move a boat without oars, sails,
or steam, but they were not church clocks, and for the time being
nothing interested him but the old clock whose hands were pointing
absurdly as to the correct time.

All at once a thought struck Vane, and he jumped up, thrust a pair of
pliers, a little screw-wrench and a pair of pincers into his pockets and
went out again.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

THOSE TWO WHEELS.

As Vane walked along the road the tools in his pocket rattled, and they
set him thinking about Mr Deering, and how serious he had made his
uncle look for a few days. Then about all their visitor had said about
fl