The old church tower, clad in a ghostly garb of pure cold white, again

rose up before them, and a few moments brought them close beside it.

A venerable building - grey, even in the midst of the hoary landscape.

An ancient sun-dial on the belfry wall was nearly hidden by the snow-

drift, and scarcely to be known for what it was. Time itself seemed to

have grown dull and old, as if no day were ever to displace the

melancholy night.

A wicket gate was close at hand, but there was more than one path

across the churchyard to which it led, and, uncertain which to take,

they came to a stand again.

The village street - if street that could be called which was an irregular

cluster of poor cottages of many heights and ages, some with their

fronts, some with their backs, and some with gable ends towards the

road, with here and there a signpost, or a shed encroaching on the

path - was close at hand. There was a faint light in a chamber window

not far off, and Kit ran towards that house to ask their way.

His first shout was answered by an old man within, who presently

appeared at the casement, wrapping some garment round his throat

as a protection from the cold, and demanded who was abroad at that

unseasonable hour, wanting him.

''Tis hard weather this,' he grumbled, 'and not a night to call me up in.

My trade is not of that kind that I need be roused from bed. The

business on which folks want me, will keep cold, especially at this

season. What do you want?'

'I would not have roused you, if I had known you were old and ill,' said

Kit.

Old!' repeated the other peevishly. 'How do you know I am old? Not so

old as you think, friend, perhaps. As to being ill, you will find many

young people in worse case than I am. More's the pity that it should

be so - not that I should be strong and hearty for my years, I mean,

but that they should be weak and tender. I ask your pardon though,'

said the old man, 'if I spoke rather rough at first. My eyes are not good

at night - that's neither age nor illness; they never were - and I didn't

see you were a stranger.'

I am sorry to call you from your bed,' said Kit, 'but those gentlemen

you may see by the churchyard gate, are strangers too, who have just

arrived from a long journey, and seek the parsonage-house. You can

direct us?'

I should be able to,' answered the old man, in a trembling voice, 'for,

come next summer, I have been sexton here, good fifty years. The

The Old Curiosity Shop