t? Does anyone know where he is?"

The sexton had not yet turned up.

"That's odd--that's provoking," said the Vicar. "However, my key will
let us in. Place the bell in the hall while I get it; and then we can
see what all this means."

To the church, accordingly, they went, the Vicar leading the way, with
his own key in his hand. He turned it in the lock, and stood in the
shadow of the ground porch, and shut the door.

A sack, half full, lay on the ground, with open mouth, a piece of cord
lying beside it. Something clanked within it as one of the men shoved
it aside with his clumsy shoe.

The Vicar opened the church door and peeped in. The dusky glow from
the western sky, entering through a narrow window, illuminated the
shafts and arches, the old oak carvings, and the discoloured
monuments, with the melancholy glare of a dying fire.

The Vicar withdrew his head and closed the door. The gloom of the
porch was deeper than ever as, stooping, he entered the narrow door
that opened at the foot of the winding stair that leads to the first
loft; from which a rude ladder-stair of wood, some five and twenty
feet in height, mounts through a trap to the ringers' loft.

Up the narrow stairs the Vicar climbed, followed by his attendants, to
the first loft. It was very dark: a narrow bow-slit in the thick wall
admitted the only light they had to guide them. The ivy leaves, seen
from the deep shadow, flashed and flickered redly, and the sparrows
twittered among them.

"Will one of you be so good as to go up and count the bells, and see
if they are all right?" said the Vicar. "There should be--"

"Agoy! what's that?" exclaimed one of the men, recoiling from the foot
of the ladder.

"By Jen!" ejaculated the other, in equal surprise.

"Good gracious!" gasped the Vicar, who, seeing indistinctly a dark
mass lying on the floor, had stooped to examine it, and placed his
hand upon a cold, dead face.

The men drew the body into the streak of light that traversed the
floor.

It was the corpse of Toby Crooke! There was a frightful scar across
his forehead.

The alarm was given. Doctor Lincote, and Mr. Jarlcot, and Turnbull, of
the George and Dragon, were on the spot immediately; and many curious
and horrified spectators of minor importance.

The first thing ascertained was that the man must have been many hours
dead. The next was that his skull was fractured, across the forehead,
by an awful blow. The next was that his neck