In an instant the ringing ceased, deep silence and peaceful quiet reigned around. He went up to the garden-house, and looked at his bells, which might be seen swinging under the darkened sky; but roundabout no one was to be discovered. He went back to his bed, but scarcely had he laid himself down when the noise began again, quick and loud, as if pealing for a Christmas party. Again he rushed out of the house, and again the noise ceased; but when he raised himself above the railing and looked around, he saw in the garden opposite the broad figure of Mr. Hummel standing by the hedge, and heard a threatening voice call out: "What crazy conduct is this?" "It is inexplicable, Mr. Hummel," exclaimed Mr. Hahn, across the street, in a conciliatory tone. "Nothing is inexplicable," cried out Mr. Hummel, "but the mischievous insanity of hanging bells in the open air over a public street." "I resent your attack," called out Mr. Hahn deeply wounded. "I have a right to hang up what I like on my own property." Then there began a conflict of views across the street, weird and frightful. There Hummel's bass, here Hahn's sharp voice, which gradually rose into a counter-tenor; both figures in long night-dresses, divided by the street and railings, but like two heroes of antiquity belaboring one another with strong language. If one failed to perceive the wild effect given to Mr. Hahn by the red color of his night-dress, he yet might be seen towering upon the height near his Chinese temple, raising his arm imposingly across the horizon; but Mr. Hummel stood in the darkness, overshadowed by the wild vine. "I will have you before the police court, for disturbing the public peace," cried Mr. Hummel at last, but felt the small hand of his wife at his back, who seized him by his night-dress, turned him round, and gently entreated him not to make a scene. "And I will inquire before the court who gave you a right to heap abuse upon me from across the street," called out Mr. Hahn, likewise in the act of retiring, for amidst the noise of the fight he had now and then heard the soft words, "Come back, Hahn," and seen his wife behind him wringing her hands. But he was not in a disposition to abandon the field of battle. "A light and ladder here," he exclaimed, "I will unearth this shameful trick." The ladder and lanterns speedily made their appearance, brought by the frightened maid-servant. Mr. Hahn mounted up to his bells, and sought long in vain; at last he discovered that some one had contrived to unite the separate bells by a plait of horse-hair and thus had rung them from the outside by a string. This wild night was followed by a gloomy morn.