"Take that, sir! D'ye think I don't know better than to lock folks up
in the college? It was me, myself, as locked up this evening."

"No need to box him for that," resented the wife. "The bell _is_
ringing, and I'll be bound the boy's right enough. One of them masons
must have fallen asleep in the day, and has just woke up to find
himself shut in. Hope he likes his berth!"

Whatever it might be, ringing the bell, whether magic or mason, of
course it must be seen to; and the sexton hastened out, the cathedral
keys in his hand. He bent his steps towards the front entrance, passing
the cloisters, which, as he knew, would be locked at that hour. "And
that bear of a Ketch won't hurry himself to unlock them," soliloquized
he.

He found the front gates surrounded. The bell had struck upon the
wondering ears of many living within the precincts of the cathedral,
who flocked out to ascertain the reason. Amongst others, the college
boys were coming up in troops.

"Now, good people, please--by your leave!" cried the sexton. "Let me
get to the gates."

They made way for the man and his ponderous keys, and entrance to the
college was gained. The sexton was beginning a sharp reproof to the
"mason," and the crowd preparing a chorus to it, when they were seized
with consternation, and fell back on each other's toes. It was the
Bishop of Helstonleigh, in his laced-up hat and apron, who walked
forth.