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 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!