III.

New Year's Night at Leet Hall, and the banquet in full swing--but not,
as usual, New Year's Eve.

Captain Monk headed his table, the parson, Robert Grame, at his right
hand, Harry Carradyne on his left. Whether it might be that the world,
even that out-of-the-way part of it, Church Leet, was improving in
manners and morals; or whether the Captain himself was changing: certain
it was that the board was not the free board it used to be. Mrs.
Carradyne herself might have sat at it now, and never once blushed by as
much as the pink of a sea-shell.

It was known that the chimes were to play this year; and, when midnight
was close at hand, Captain Monk volunteered a statement which astonished
his hearers. Rimmer, the butler, had come into the room to open the
windows.

"I am getting tired of the chimes, and all people have not liked them,"
spoke the Captain in slow, distinct tones. "I have made up my mind to do
away with them, and you will hear them to-night, gentlemen, for the last
time."

"_Really_, Uncle Godfrey!" cried Harry Carradyne, in most intense
surprise.

"I hope they'll bring us no ill-luck to-night!" continued Captain Monk
as a grim joke, disregarding Harry's remark. "Perhaps they will, though,
out of sheer spite, knowing they'll never have another chance of it.
Well, well, they're welcome. Fill your glasses, gentlemen."