There was a faint _click_ as she passed in and closed it after her. Then another rustling sound, and a peculiar rattling noise, for Dally had drawn the large key she had borrowed from the sexton's cottage, placed it in the lock of the spiral staircase leading up to the rood-loft, opened it, and after withdrawing and inserting the key on the inner side, she crept in, locked the door, went rapidly up to the opening where she had sat during the funeral service, and then resting her arms upon the carved stone tracery, she thrust her head and shoulders as far forward as she could, and listened and waited for what was to come. Volume 2, Chapter IX. WATCHERS. The old church at Duke's Hampton, a fine old structure, built in the latter part of the thirteenth century, stood calm and still upon its eminence that dark night. The older folks at the village said it was terribly haunted "arter dark," and the younger believed. Strange sights and sounds were said to have been seen and heard. Ghostly forms glided on silent wing round the tower and swept low amongst the tombs, uttering weird shrieks. Curious mutterings and croaks were heard on high among the corbels and demoniacal gargoyles, the holes in the tower among the ivy, and low moans often proceeded from the shuttered windows where the big bells hung. All true, for down there in leafy Warwickshire there were plenty of owls, daws, starlings, and pigeons to make the old ivy-clothed building a bird sanctuary where they were never touched. They seemed to belong to "my church;" to Moredock; and he never took nest or destroyed their young. On the night when Dally Watlock took upon herself to watch, high up in the rood-loft, steps approached the church from the back, about half an hour later, and a dark figure entered the churchyard, to walk cautiously and silently up towards the outer door of the vestry. As it silently crossed the yard, a head slowly appeared above the wall, and watched the tall dark figure for a few minutes, as it seemed to glide in and out among the tombstones, and then fade completely away. The watcher held on by the churchyard wall for a few minutes, rigid and paralysed. There was a faint sound of breathing heard, but it was catching and spasmodic, as if the watcher were in pain. But at last, after gazing in the direction where the dark figure had disappeared, with starting eyes, and a sensation on the top of the head as if the cap there was being softly lifted, the gentleman of inquiring mind tried to wrench his hands from where they clutched the top of the wall. It was a momentary act, resulting in his grasping the coping-stone more tightly, and uttering the words: "Ha' mussy upon us!" For Joe Chegg felt his legs give way at the knees, and that he was bathed in a cold perspiration. "If I can only get back safe home again," he moaned to himself, "never no more--never no more!"