Mr. Raymond stood in the belfry at the boy's elbow. He wore his
surplice, and held his prayer-book, with a finger between the pages.
Glancing down toward the nave, he saw Humility sitting in the big
vicarage pew--no other soul in church.

He took the cord from Taffy, "Run to the door, and see if anyone is
coming."

Taffy ran, and after a minute came back.

"There's Squire Moyle coming along the path, and the little girl with
him, and some servants behind--five or six of them. Bill Udy's one."

"Nobody else?"

"I expect the people don't hear the bell," said Taffy. "They live
too far away."

"God hears. Yes, and God sees the lamp is lit."

"What lamp?" Taffy looked up at his father's face, wondering.

"All towers carry a lamp of some kind. For what else are they
built?"

It was exactly the tone in which he had spoken that afternoon at
Tewkesbury about men being like towers. Both these sentences puzzled
the boy; and yet Taffy never felt so near to understanding him as he
had then, and did again now. He was shy of his father. He did not
know that his father was just as shy of him. He began to ring with