schoolroom. It was locked. Had it not been, the senior boy might have
expected punishment from the head-master. They tried the small door
leading into the residence of Dr. Burrows--fast also; that abode just
now was empty. The folding doors of the chapter-house were opened
easily, and they entered. But what did it avail them? There was the
large, round room, lined with its books, furnished with its immense
table and easy-chairs; but it was as much shut in from the hearing of
the outside world as they were. The bishop came into contact with a
chair, and sat down in it. Jenkins, who, as clerk to Mr. Galloway, the
steward to the dean and chapter, was familiar with the chapter-house,
felt his way to the spot where he knew matches were sometimes kept. He
could not find any: it was the time of light evenings.

"There's just one chance, my lord," suggested Jenkins. "That the little
unused door at the corner of the cloisters, leading into the body of
the cathedral, may not be locked."

"Precious careless of the sextons, if it is not!" grunted Ketch.

"It is a door nobody ever thinks of going in at, my lord," returned
Jenkins, as if he would apologize for the sextons' carelessness, should
it be found unfastened. "If it is open, we might get to the bell."

"The sextons, proud, stuck-up gentlemen, be made up of carelessness and
anything else that's bad!" groaned Ketch. "Holding up their heads above
us porters!"

It was worth the trial. The bishop rose from the chair, and groped his
way out of the chapter-house, the two others following.