"Is that the Angelus, father?" asked W. V.
"No, dear; I think it must be the ringers practising."
"If it had been the Angelus, would St. Francis have stood still to say the prayer?"
"I think he would have knelt down to say it. That would be more like St. Francis."
"And would William the Conqueror?"
"Why, no; I fancy he would have taken it for the curfew bell."
"They do still ring the curfew bell in some places, don't they, father?"
"Oh yes; in several places; but, of course, they don't cover up their fires."
"I like to hear of those old bells; don't you, father?"
As we reached the end of the new road we saw the man lighting the lamp there; and we watched him going quickly from one post to another, leaving a little flower of fire wherever he stopped. All was very quiet, and, as he went down the street, we could hear the sound of his footsteps growing fainter and fainter in the distance. All our streets, you must know, are lined with trees, trees both in the gardens and on the side-walks, and the lamps glittered among the leaves and branches like so many stars. When we passed under them we noticed how the light tinged the foliage that was nearest with a greenish ash-colour, almost like the undersides of aspen-leaves.