l effort,
fearful of exhausting his strength, he abandoned the attempt, and began
to climb up the rope with his hands and knees. Aided by the inequalities
of the roughened walls, he soon gained a range of small Saxon arches
ornamenting the tower immediately beneath the belfry, and succeeded in
planting his right foot on the moulding of one of them; he instantly
steadied himself, and with little further effort clambered through an
open window.

His first act on reaching the belfry was to drop on his knees, and
return thanks to Heaven for his deliverance. He then looked about for an
outlet; but though a winding staircase existed in each of the four
angles of the tower, all the doors, to his infinite disappointment, were
fastened on the other side. He was still, therefore, a prisoner.

Determined, however, not to yield to despair, he continued his search,
and finding a small door opening upon a staircase communicating with the
summit of the tower, he unfastened it (for the bolt was on his own
side), and hurried up the steps. Passing through another door bolted
like the first within side, he issued upon the roof. He was now on the
highest part of the cathedral, and farther from his hopes than ever; and
so agonizing were his feelings, that he almost felt tempted to fling
himself headlong downwards. Beneath him lay the body of the mighty
fabric, its vast roof, its crocketed pinnacles, its buttresses and
battlements scarcely discernible through the gloom, but looking like
some monstrous engine devised to torture him.

Wearied with gazing at it, and convinced of the futility of any further
attempt at descent, Leonard Holt returned to the belfry, and, throwing
himself on the boarded floor, sought some repose. The fatigue he had
undergone was so great, that, notwithstanding his anxiety, he soon
dropped asleep, and did not awake for several hours. On opening his
eyes, it was just getting light, and shaking himself, he again prepared
for action. All the events of the night rushed upon his mind, and he
thought with unutterable anguish of Amabel's situation. Glancing round
the room, it occurred to him that he might give the alarm by ringing the
enormous bells near him; but though he set them slightly in motion, he
could not agitate the immense clappers sufficiently to produce any
sound.

Resolved, however, to free himself at any hazard, he once more repaired
to the summit of the tower, and leaning over the balustrade, gazed
belo