"Hark!" cried Ben, "did you hear that noise?"
They all listened, and heard a bird singing in the cathedral.
"It's our old robin, sir," said the lad who had opened the cathedral door for them.
"Yes," said Mr. Gresham, "there he is, boys—look—perched upon the organ; he often sits there, and sings whilst the organ is playing." "And," continued the lad who showed the cathedral, "he has lived here this many winters; they say he is fifteen years old; and he is so tame, poor fellow, that if I had a bit of bread he'd come down and feed in my hand."
"I've a bit of bun here," cried Ben, joyfully, producing the remains of the bun which Hal, but an hour before, would have thrown away. "Pray let us see the poor robin eat out of your hand."
The lad crumbled the bun, and called to the robin, who fluttered and chirped, and seemed rejoiced at the sight of the bread; but yet he did not come down from his pinnacle on the organ.
"He is afraid of us," said Ben; "he is not used to eat before strangers, I suppose."
"Ah, no, Sir," said the young man, with a deep sigh, "that is not the thing: he is used enough to eat afore company; time was, he'd have come down for me, before ever so many fine folks, and have ate his crumbs out of my hand, at my first call; but, poor fellow, it's not his fault now; he does not know me now, Sir, since my accident, because of this great black patch."
The young man put his hand to his right eye, which was covered with a huge black patch.
Ben asked what accident he meant; and the lad told him that, a few weeks ago, he had lost the sight of his eye by the stroke of a stone, which reached him as he was passing under the rocks of Clifton, unluckily, when the workmen were blasting.