_Toby_ knew them well, those Bells, as did his great and genial Master. _Toby_ was not a canine casuist. Being but a simple and loyal dog, he invested them with a strange and solemn character. They were so mysterious and mighty; often heard, and never seen; so high up, so far off, and so full of such a deep, strong melody, that he regarded them with a species of awe; and sometimes when he looked up at the dark arched windows in the tower, he half expected to be beckoned to by something which was not a Bell, and yet was what he had heard so often sounding in the Tower, the Spirit, namely, of Loyalty and Love, of Honour and of Home. For all this, _Toby_ scouted with doggish disdain--being, like his Master, as sensible as loyal--a certain occasionally flying rumour that the Chimes were haunted, as implying the possibility of their being connected with any Evil thing. And _Toby_--no unlicked cub, but a considerate, composed old dog,--never puppyishly barked at the Bells. He would as soon have thought of baying the moon. But he often had occasion to yap, warningly or reprovingly, at the Bell-ringers! * * * * * Bow-wow-wow! It was the voice of _Toby_. It meant not, this time, either warning or reproof; rather amicable acknowledgment, and just a little surprise. Not fear, oh, no! not fear. A Voice--was it a vision-voice, or the accents of the biggest of the Bells, or was it, perchance, the veritable Voice of Time himself, naturally and fitly vocal and audible at this particular Season?--sounded strangely through the shadowy belfry. Thus it seemed to speak, in words curiously pertinent to the moment, though _Toby_ seemed to have heard them before in other connection and in other circumstances. [Illustration: THE CHIMES. MR. PUNCH. "NOW THEN, MY LADS! ALL TOGETHER FOR ONCE!--CHRISTMAS TIME, YOU KNOW!!"] "The Voice of Time cries to Man, Advance! Time is for his advancement and improvement; for his greater worth, his greater happiness, his better life; his progress onward to that goal within its knowledge and its view, and set there in the period when Time and he began. Ages of darkness, wickedness, and violence have come and gone--millions uncountable have suffered, loved, and died--to point the way before him. Who seeks to turn him back, or stay him in his course, arrests a mighty engine which will strike the meddler dead, and be the fiercer and the wilder, ever, for its momentary check!" "A rub for the reactionaries!" mused _Toby_. "Who puts into the mouth of Time, or of its servants, a cry of lamentation for days which have had their trial and their failure, and have left deep traces of it which the blind may see--a cry that only serves the present time, by showing men how much it needs their help when any ears can listen to regrets for such a past--who does this does us wrong." "A flout for our Fair-Traders!" thought _Toby_.