and finding he listened in vain, turned to the assemblage.

"The treble man too! Now if he'd been a tenor or counter chap, we might
ha' contrived the rest o't without en, you see. But for a quire to lose
the treble, why, my sonnies, you may so well lose your . . . " The
tranter paused, unable to mention an image vast enough for the occasion.

"Your head at once," suggested Mr. Penny.

The tranter moved a pace, as if it were puerile of people to complete
sentences when there were more pressing things to be done.

"Was ever heard such a thing as a young man leaving his work half done
and turning tail like this!"

"Never," replied Bowman, in a tone signifying that he was the last man in
the world to wish to withhold the formal finish required of him.

"I hope no fatal tragedy has overtook the lad!" said his grandfather.

"O no," replied tranter Dewy placidly. "Wonder where he's put that there
fiddle of his. Why that fiddle cost thirty shillings, and good words
besides. Somewhere in the damp, without doubt; that instrument will be
unglued and spoilt in ten minutes--ten! ay, two."

"What in the name o' righteousness can have happened?" said old William,
more uneasily. "Perhaps he's drownded!"

Leaving their lanterns and instruments in the belfry they retraced their
steps along the waterside track. "A strapping lad like Dick d'know