into another night. It isn't possible that anything
has happened to the sun, and this is twelve at noon!"

The big idea being an alarming one, he scrambled out of bed, and groped
his way to the window. He was obliged to rub the frost off with the
sleeve of his dressing-gown before he could see anything; and could see
very little then. All he could make out was, that it was still very
foggy and extremely cold, and that there was no noise of people running
to and fro, and making a great stir, as there unquestionably would have
been if night had beaten off bright day, and taken possession of the
world. This was a great relief, because "three days after sight of this
First of Exchange pay to Mr. Ebenezer Scrooge or his order," and so
forth, would have become a mere United States' security if there were no
days to count by.

Scrooge went to bed again, and thought, and thought, and thought it over
and over and over, and could make nothing of it. The more he thought,
the more perplexed he was; and the more he endeavoured not to think, the
more he thought. Marley's Ghost bothered him exceedingly. Every time he
resolved within himself, after mature inquiry, that it was all a dream,
his mind flew back again, like a strong spring released, to its first
position, and presented the same problem to be worked all through, "Was
it a dream or not?"

Scrooge lay in this state until the chimes had gone three quarters more,
when he remembered, on a sudden, that the Ghost had warned him of a
visitation when the bell tolled one. He resolved to lie awake until the
hour was passed; and, considering that he could no more go to sleep than
go to Heaven, this was perhaps the wisest resolution in his power.

The quarter was so long, that he was more than once convinced he must
have sunk into a doze unconsciously, and missed the clock. At length it
broke upon his listening ear.

"Ding, dong!"

"A quarter past," said Scrooge, counting.

"Ding, dong!"

"Half-past!" said Scrooge.

"Ding, dong!"

"A quarter to it," said Scrooge.

"Ding, dong!"

"The hour itself," said Scrooge, triumphantly, "and nothing else!"

He spoke before the hour bell sounded, which it now did with a deep,
dull, hollow, melancholy One. Light flashed up in the room upon the
instant, and the curtains of his bed were drawn.

The curtains of his bed were drawn aside, I tell you, by a hand. Not the
curtains at his feet, nor the curtains at his back, but those to whic