After running a short distance down the street, on turning a corner we found Lawless standing under a small arched door-way leading into a curious old battlemented tower, which did not form part of any church or other building of the same date as itself, but stood alone, showing, as it reared its time-worn head high above the more modern dwellings of which the street was composed, like some giant relic of the days of old. This tower contained a peal of bells, the fame of which was great in that part of the country, and of which the townspeople were justly proud.
“All right!” cried Lawless; “the old scarecrow ran in here like a lamp-lighter, as soon he saw me bowling after him, and has left the key in the lock; so I shall take the liberty of exploring a little; I've a strong though undeveloped taste for architectural antiquities. Twopence more, and up goes the donkey! come along!”
So saying, he flung open the door, and disappeared up some steps leading to the interior of the tower, and, after a moment's hesitation, Coleman and I followed him.
“Don't be alarmed, old boy!” observed Lawless, patting the sexton (who looked frightened out of his wits at our intrusion) so forcibly on the back as to set him coughing violently; “we're not come to murder you for the sake of your lantern.”
“This gentleman,” said Coleman, who by the cunning twinkle of his eye was evidently becoming possessed by the spirit of mischief, “has been sent down by the Venerable Society of Antiquaries to ascertain whether the old custom of ringing the Curfew is properly performed here. He is, in fact, no other than the Noble President of the Society himself. That gentleman (pointing to me) is the Vice-President, and I, who have the honour of addressing you, am the unworthy Secretary.”
“That's it, Daddy,” resumed Lawless, coolly taking up the lantern, and lighting a cigar; “that's the precise state of the poll, I mean case; so now go to work, and mind you do the trick properly.”
Thus adjured, the old man, who appeared completely bewildered by all that was going on, mechanically took hold of a rope, and began slowly and at stated intervals tolling one of the bells.
“Where are your assistants, my good man?” inquired Coleman after a short pause.—The only answer was a stare of vacant surprise, and Coleman continued, “Why, you don't mean to say you only ring one bell, to be sure? oh, this is all wrong:—what do you say, Mr. President?”
“Wrong?” replied Lawless, removing the cigar from his mouth and puffing a cloud of smoke into the sexton's face, “I should just think it was, most particularly and confoundedly wrong. I'll tell you what it is, old death's-head and cross-bones; things can't be allowed to go on in this manner. Reform, sir, is wanting, 'the bill, the whole bill, and nothing but the bill'. I mean to get into Parliament some day, Fairlegh, when I am tired of knocking about, you know—but that wasn't exactly what I was going to say.”
“Suppose we show him the proper way to do it, Mr. President!” suggested Freddy, catching hold of the rope of one of the bells.