North hesitated again, but yielded to his companion and followed him softly right round the church to the belfry door, which yielded to the old man's touch. "What does this mean?" said the doctor angrily. "Why have you brought me here?" "Come and see," whispered the old man so earnestly that North hesitated no longer, but followed him wonderingly into the church, and along the matting-covered aisle, to the old oak screen, where Moredock paused and caught his arm. "Some one watching?" whispered North, as they stood together in the darkness; "in yonder?" For the old man had indicated the vestry door with his outstretched hand. It seemed strange, for a minute before they had been beside the outer door of the vestry, and now he had been brought in to stand by the inner door in the chancel. "You're wanted there," whispered Moredock--"yonder!" "Watchers?" "You're wanted there, doctor," whispered the old man. "Go in and see." The silence was painful in the extreme, as North stood wondering there, but the next moment, feeling attracted by he knew not what desire to see who was within there face to face, he took a couple of steps forward to the old oak door, when a faint whispering seemed to come from the other side, followed by a low cough, which sent the blood surging to his brain. There was no hesitation now, for, half-mad with excitement and the strange passion that seemed for the moment to stifle him, he seized the great latch, which snapped loudly as he threw it up, and strode into the little stone-walled room. Volume 2, Chapter XII. DALLY'S APPEAL. "Nay! nay! nay! I know what you want. There, give me my pipe," said Moredock, settling himself down in his big-armed Windsor chair. "Yes, gran'fa, dear," cried Dally, bustling about and fetching the clay pipe with a clean white bowl, consequent upon its having been thoroughly burned in the fire before it was stood up in the corner on the hob. "There's your pipe, dear, and there's your tobacco box. Oh, how heavy it is!" "It arn't heavy with 'bacco, lass. Should ha' thought a girl as I've brought up, as I've brought up you ever since your mother and father died, would have give her poor old gaffer a pinch o' 'bacco now and agen." "And so I will, gran'fa, dear," cried Dally, taking the lid off the heavy leaden pot. "Next time I go into town I'll bring you a beautiful packet of the best. Let me fill your pipe, dear, same as I used to." "Ay, you was a good little gel then," said Moredock, as he watched the brown, plump fingers busily charging the bowl, while a grim smile puckered his face, and he lay back with a satisfied air. "So I am now, gran'fa, dear." "Nay; you've come to bother your poor old gran'fa about money for silk dresses, and feathers, and gloves. I know." "No, you don't, gran'fa, dear," cried Dally. "There, now it's nice and full." "You've jammed it in too tight."