“Not now--not now!” gasped the terrified Josiah, seeing that the Goblin was spreading out its long lean arms as though to envelop him in its embrace--“It’s not time!--it’s the middle of the night!----” “No, no!--it’s Christmas Day!” reiterated the Goblin; “Come to Church, McNason! Come and hear my friend the Reverend Mr. Firebrand hold forth on the vanity of riches! Come in the spirit of One Timothy Two! That’s a text! ‘Grace, mercy, peace!’ Come along, McNason! All are welcome where _we_ are going! Hark! How the bells ring! One Timothy Two! One Timothy Two! Come and ‘sit under’ good Mr. Firebrand! Come!--come!” And with a terrible downward clutch, the Goblin caught hold of McNason by the coat-collar. “Mercy----mercy!” cried the wretched man--“Help!--Help!” “Help!--help!” shouted the Goblin, derisively--“One Timothy Two! Come along, McNason! Come along!” Catching up Josiah as easily as though he were a wooden mannikin, the Goblin unfurled a pair of bat-like wings and rose aloft in air. “Here we go!” it yelled--“Up we go, and down we go! Off to Church! ME and the Churchwarden! Oh, hoo-roo, hoo-roo! Christmas Day and Christmas Bells, and a jolly Christmas altogether! One Timothy Two! Off we go!” And with the rush and roar of the wind, the Goblin carrying the world-renowned millionaire as a bird of prey might carry a rabbit or a weasel, soared out on a wave of mingled sleet and snow into the stormy night! * * * * * What happened to him in that wild supernatural scurry through the air Josiah McNason never knew. He lived and was conscious,--conscious of being borne along at a furious rate not knowing whither,--conscious of the freezing cold,--the rain, the wind, that tossed him and his unearthly companion about like dead leaves on its angry breath with a “Hoo-roo!” louder than the cry peculiar to the Goblin itself,--conscious above all of the bells! O the Bells! How they trilled and trolled out their Christmas melody!--how they seemed to tumble one over the other in their haste to proclaim “Peace and Goodwill!”--how their metal throats palpitated and throbbed with the angelic message!--angelic still,--angelic always!--even though some mortals nowadays are so miserably-minded as to doubt its truth and sweetness! The Bells rang everywhere!--loudly to the scudding clouds,--softly to the darkened earth,--whisperingly among the chill showers of sleet and snow, and with an echoing clang like musical thunder above and around the shadowy drifting form of the Goblin as it flew along, gripping the quivering Josiah as a cat might grip a mouse, or an eagle a new-born lamb. All at once the rattle and rush of the warring elements rolled off in a pause of quietude, letting the Bells have it all their own way,--and--suddenly descending with lightning-like rapidity by sheer force of the Goblin’s imperative downward pressure, Josiah found himself standing on his feet in the