Twelve o'clock! Ichabod dismissed, and the hour just struck by the old church clock in a halting broken-winded manner, as if the job was too much for it, while an ordinary listener would have been tired out before it reached half-way. But Jared listened, and shivered and shuddered too, as, after beating laboriously its heaviest task, it set in motion certain hammers which knocked "Adeste Fidelis" out of the bells, beaten out notes that came in a jerky, disjointed fashion, and muddled up with their rests--now one in its place, now three or four blundered together, as if in a hurry to finish a performance of which they were heartily ashamed. But Jared stood it out, telling himself that most likely it was for the last time. Then he tried the church-door to make sure that it was fast, and afterwards slunk off slowly, and apparently believing that people could read the crime of which he was accused branded upon his forehead. Perhaps that was why he crushed his hat down over his eyes, and bent his head so as to encounter neither scowl of avoidance nor pitying glance. In Duplex Street at last! and pausing to pull his face three or four different ways so as to get upon it a pleasant expression before inserting his latch-key; and, entering, to stand rubbing his feet upon the worn old mat, which had to be held steady with one foot while the other was cleaned, and had been so affected by time that, hydra-fashion, it was fast turning itself into two mats of a smaller size. Then, it took some time, to take off the old black kid-gloves, which Jared had cut down into mittens in consequence of finger dilapidations, or, as he said, to keep his hands warm when playing in the fireless church. But there were cheery voices ascending the stairs, so putting away his last sigh, like his umbrella in a corner, he descended to the kitchen, and tried to enter, but the door handle only turned round and round, and would not move the latch. Directly after, though, there came the sound as of some one wriggling it back with a knife-blade. "There, don't touch me," cried Patty, "or I shall flour you all over." The warning came too late, for Jared had already taken her in his arms to place a couple of kisses upon her blooming cheeks. "There, I knew I should," she continued; "and if I touch it I shall make it worse. But, father dear, I'd have that lock mended, or we shall all be fastened in some day." "Ah!" said Jared. "Now, if it could be repaired with glue, I might manage it myself." But as that seemed impossible, Jared began to hum a tune, his thoughts the while hanging upon the subject of his dismissal, as he wondered whether they had yet any inkling of the secret which oppressed him. "Time enough for them to know when all is over, and I've given up the keys," he muttered; "for even yet something may be found out. If not," he thought, bitterly, "we must starve."