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violence； have come and gone … millions uncountable； have suffered；
lived； and died … to point the way before him。 Who seeks to turn
him back； or stay him on his course； arrests a mighty engine which
will strike the meddler dead； and be the fiercer and the wilder；
ever； for its momentary check！'
'I never did so to my knowledge； sir；' said Trotty。 'It was quite
by accident if I did。 I wouldn't go to do it； I'm sure。'
'Who puts into the mouth of Time； or of its servants；' said the
Goblin of the Bell； 'a cry of lamentation for days which have had
their trial and their failure； and have left deep traces of it
which the blind may see … a cry that only serves the present time；
by showing men how much it needs their help when any ears can
listen to regrets for such a past … who does this； does a wrong。
And you have done that wrong； to us； the Chimes。'
Trotty's first excess of fear was gone。 But he had felt tenderly
and gratefully towards the Bells； as you have seen； and when he
heard himself arraigned as one who had offended them so weightily；
his heart was touched with penitence and grief。
'If you knew；' said Trotty； clasping his hands earnestly … 'or
perhaps you do know … if you know how often you have kept me
company； how often you have cheered me up when I've been low； how
you were quite the plaything of my little daughter Meg （almost the
only one she ever had） when first her mother died； and she and me
were left alone； you won't bear malice for a hasty word！'
'Who hears in us； the Chimes； one note bespeaking disregard； or
stern regard； of any hope； or joy； or pain； or sorrow； of the many…
sorrowed throng； who hears us make response to any creed that
gauges human passions and affections； as it gauges the amount of
miserable food on which humanity may pine and wither； does us
wrong。 That wrong you have done us！' said the Bell。
'I have！' said Trotty。 'Oh forgive me！'
'Who hears us echo the dull vermin of the earth： the Putters Down
of crushed and broken natures； formed to be raised up higher than
such maggots of the time can crawl or can conceive；' pursued the
Goblin of the Bell； 'who does so； does us wrong。 And you have done
us wrong！'
'Not meaning it；' said Trotty。 'In my ignorance。 Not meaning it！'
'Lastly； and most of all；' pursued the Bell。 'Who turns his back
upon the fallen and disfigured of his kind； abandons them as vile；
and does not trace and track with pitying eyes the unfenced
precipice by which they fell from good … grasping in their fall
some tufts and shreds of that lost soil； and clinging to them still
when bruised and dying in the gulf below； does wrong to Heaven and
man； to time and to eternity。 And you have done that wrong！'
'Spare me！' cried Trotty； falling on his knees； 'for Mercy's sake！'
'Listen！' said the Shadow。
'Listen！' cried the other Shadows。
'Listen！' said a clear and childlike voice； which Trotty thought he
recognised as having heard before。
The organ sounded faintly in the church below。 Swelling by
degrees； the melody ascended to the roof； and filled the choir and
nave。 Expanding more and more； it rose up； up； up； up； higher；
higher； higher up； awakening agitated hearts within the burly piles
of oak： the hollow bells； the iron…bound doors； the stairs of
solid stone； until the tower walls were insufficient to contain it；
and it soared into the sky。
No wonder that an old man's breast could not contain a sound so
vast and mighty。 It broke from that weak prison in a rush of
tears； and Trotty put his hands before his face。
'Listen！' said the Shadow。
'Listen！' said the other Shadows。
'Listen！' said the child's voice。
A solemn strain of blended voices； rose into the tower。
It was a very low and mournful strain … a Dirge … and as he
listened； Trotty heard his child among the singers。
'She is dead！' exclaimed the old man。 'Meg is dead！ Her Spirit
calls to me。 I hear it！'
'The Spirit of your child bewails the dead； and mingles with the
dead … dead hopes； dead fancies； dead imaginings of youth；'
returned the Bell； 'but she is living。 Learn from her life； a
living truth。 Learn from the creature dearest to your heart； how
bad the bad are born。 See every bud and leaf plucked one by one
from off the fairest stem； and know how bare and wretched it may
be。 Follow her！ To desperation！'
Each of the shadowy figures stretched its right arm forth； and
pointed downward。
'The Spirit of the Chimes is your companion；' said the figure。
'Go！ It stands behind you！'
Trotty turned； and saw … the child！ The child Will Fern had
carried in the street； the child whom Meg had watched； but now；
asleep！
'I carried her myself； to…night；' said Trotty。 'In these arms！'
'Show him what he calls himself；' said the dark figures； one and
all。
The tower opened at his feet。 He looked down； and beheld his own
form； lying at the bottom； on the outside： crushed and motionless。
'No more a living man！' cried Trotty。 'Dead！'
'Dead！' said the figures all together。
'Gracious Heaven！ And the New Year … '
'Past；' said the figures。
'What！' he cried； shuddering。 'I missed my way； and coming on the
outside of this tower in the dark； fell down … a year ago？'
'Nine years ago！' replied the figures。
As they gave the answer； they recalled their outstretched hands；
and where their figures had been； there the Bells were。
And they rung； their time being come again。 And once again； vast
multitudes of phantoms sprung into existence； once again； were
incoherently engaged； as they had been before； once again； faded on
the stopping of the Chimes； and dwindled into nothing。
'What are these？' he asked his guide。 'If I am not mad； what are
these？'
'Spirits of the Bells。 Their sound upon the air；' returned the
child。 'They take such shapes and occupations as the hopes and
thoughts of mortals； and the recollections they have stored up；
give them。'
'And you；' said Trotty wildly。 'What are you？'
'Hush； hush！' returned the child。 'Look here！'
In a poor； mean room； working at the same kind of embroidery which
he had often； often seen before her； Meg； his own dear daughter；
was presented to his view。 He made no effort to imprint his kisses
on her face； he did not strive to clasp her to his loving heart； he
knew that such endearments were； for him； no more。 But； he held
his trembling breath； and brushed away the blinding tears； that he
might look upon her； that he might only see her。
Ah！ Changed。 Changed。 The light of the clear eye； how dimmed。
The bloom； how faded from the cheek。 Beautiful she was； as she had
ever been； but Hope； Hope； Hope； oh where was the fresh Hope that
had spoken to him like a voice！
She looked up from her work； at a companion。 Following her eyes；
the old man started back。
In the woman grown； he recognised her at a glance。 In the long
silken hair； he saw the self…same curls； around the lips； the
child's expression lingering still。 See！ In the eyes； now turned
inquiringly on Meg； there shone the very look that scanned those
featu