The Goblin waved its claw. And in another instant Josiah McNason stood erect, fully clothed, gazing fearfully up--up, ever so high at the indescribable face and form which now loomed like a monstrous bat above him. So tall had it suddenly grown and so thin,--so terrible were its goggle eyes,--so enigmatical its wide grin, that anxious as he was to depart from his present place of torture, he shook like a leaf in a stiff breeze at the prospect of another “airship” voyage with such a fearsome skipper of the winds. “One Timothy Two!” said the Goblin,--and its voice seemed to fall from some magic pinnacle reared miles above the clouds--“One Timothy Two! Grace, Mercy, Peace! Time to keep Christmas! Christmas Day and Christmas Bells! Come along! Come along! Home for the holidays! Off we go!” Stooping forward like a giant Cloud from the sky, the Goblin whisked off the shrinking, shuddering millionaire as easily as a gust of wind whisks off the broken branch of a tree, and spreading its great wings, whirled with a wild “Hoo-roo-oo-oo!” out into the starry spaces of the night. * * * * * Now came soft pauses of silence,--flashing gleams of colour like broken rainbows floating at will through the pure ether,--glimpses of clear sky wherein the greater planets shone gloriously, resembling revolving lights set in the watch-towers of Heaven,--straying films of pearly vapour through which the moon peered fitfully with a doubtful brilliancy--then lo! the dear familiar Earth, lifting its dark rim against the pale blue reaches of the morning--and then the Sun! Warm with its golden heart’s effulgence, the splendid Orb of life and health and beauty rose in a flood of glory over the mountain-tops and over the seas,--spreading radiance on the wintry fields,--illumining the leafless trees,--and deepening to a more vivid scarlet the berries of the thick green holly, and the dainty feathers on the breasts of the robins. And the Bells!--oh, the Bells! How they rang!--how they sang in all the turrets and steeples of every church that lifted its shining spire to the sunshine! “Peace--Good--will--! Peace--Good--will!” they seemed to say over and over again with such a gladness and a thankfulness in their soft chiming as made the heart grow full of tenderness and tears! And now, all suddenly, a tremulous little chorus of small fresh voices began to mingle with the Bells’ sweet tune-- “God rest you, merry gentlemen! Let nothing you dismay! Remember Christ our Saviour Was born on Christmas Day!” Then came a pause,--a murmur--and again the quaint old melody began-- “God rest you, merry gentlemen! Let nothing you dismay!----” Uttering a smothered cry, Josiah McNason started to his feet. What--what was this? Where was he? Wildly he stared about him--and then with a kind of hysterical shout, recognised his surroundings. “I’m at home!” he cried--“At home! In my own house! In my own room! Thank God!”