"But why?" asked the clergyman. "If the chimes are there, and are, as
you say, melodious, why do they not play?"

"Well, sir, I b'lieve there's a bit of superstition at the bottom of
it," returned the clerk, not caring to explain too fully lest he should
have to tell about Mr. West's death, which might not be the thing to
frighten a new Vicar with. "A feeling has somehow got abroad in the
parish (leastways with a many of its folk) that the putting-up of its
bells brought ill-luck, and that whenever the chimes ring out some
dreadful evil falls on the Monk family."

"I never heard of such a thing," exclaimed the Vicar, hardly knowing
whether to laugh or lecture. "The parish cannot be so ignorant as that!
How can the putting-up of chimes bring ill-luck?"

"Well, your reverence, I don't know; the thing's beyond me. They were
heard but three times, ringing in the new year at midnight, three years,
one on top of t'other--and each time some ill fell."

"My good man--and I am sure you are good--you should know better,"
remonstrated Mr. Grame. "Captain Monk cannot, surely, give credence to
this?"

"No, sir; but his sister up at the Hall does--Mrs. Carradyne. It's said
the Captain used to ridicule her finely for it; he'd fly into a passion
whenever 'twas alluded to. Captain Monk, as a brave seaman, is too bold
to tolerate anything of the sort. But he has never let the chimes play
since his daughter died. He was coming out from the death-scene at
midnight, when the chimes broke forth the third year, and it's said he
can't abear the sound of 'em since."