e musty old
books than elsewhere.
He had sat still and silent for a long time, when the bells of the
church, with a startling nearness and distinctness, broke into a peal.
He made a slight movement when the sound first fell upon his ear, but
went back to his quiet and his dreams again at once.
Ten minutes went by and the bells were still pealing, when he heard
a sound which would have been inaudible in the midst of the metallic
clamor to ears less accustomed than his own. He had lived there all his
life, and scarcely noticed the noise which would almost have deafened a
stranger. The sound he had heard was the clicking of the gate, and after
a pause it was followed by the appearance of his nephew Reuben, who
looked about him with a dazzled and uncertain gaze.
"Well, Reuben, lad?" said the old man; but his voice was lost for his
nephew in the noise which shook the air. "Dost not see me?" he cried,
speaking loudly this time.
"I'm fresh from the sunlight," Reuben shouted, with unnecessary force.
"You spoke before. I couldn't hear you for the bells."
The old man with a half-humorous gesture put his hands to his ears.
"No need to shout a man's head off," he answered. "Come outside."
Rueben understood the gesture, though he could not hear the words, and
the two left the room together, and came out upon the back garden.
The sound of the bells was still clear and loud, but by no means so
overwhelming as it had been within-doors.
"That's better," said Reuben. "They're making noise enough for young
Sennacherib's wedding."
"Young Sennacherib?" asked his uncle. "Young Eld? Is young Eld to be
married?"
"Didn't you Know that? The procession is coming along the road this
minute. Old Sennacherib disapproves of the match, and we've had a scene
the like of which was never known in Heydon Hay before."
"Ay?" said Ezra, with grave interest, slowly, and with a look of a man
long imprisoned, to whom outside things are strange, but interesting
still. "As how?"
"Why thus," returned Reuben, with a laugh in his eyes. "Old Sennacherib
comes to his gate and awaits the wedding-party. Young Snac, with his
bride upon his arm, waves a braggart handkerchief at the oldster, and
out walks papa, plants himself straight in front of the company, and
brings all to a halt. 'I should like to tell thee,' says the old fellow
before them all, rolling that bull-dog head of his, 'as I've made my
will an' cut thee off with a shillin'!'"
"
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