The old seaman looked up at the ceiling. It was cracked, damp-stained, and bellied. 'Ever since I first docked at
this almshouse I've wondered what that big, ugly hump atop of the roof could be. I ain't going to let no team o' strange
workmen find out afore I do. So cover your eyes an' mouths, every-body. There's goin' to be a load of old dust an'
rubbish an' whitewash comin' down.
'Stand clear now, pals. Here goes!'
Whump! Bump! Thud!
A mess of dried rushes, twigs, old plaster, and limewash showered down. Ben and the others shielded their eyes
and nose. Jon shaded both eyes with a hand as he battered furiously at the growing gap in the ceiling.
Crack! Whump! Thud! Whack!
He stopped a moment and stared into the huge, dark cavity he had made. 'Push that table over here, quick!'
Suddenly Ben knew. He grabbed Ned's collar and hurried outside. The black Labrador sensed it, too. They
began running to get as far away from the almshouse as possible, both knowing that they would not outdistance the
sound of inevitable fate.
The ground beneath Ben seemed to sway, like the deck of the
his face, like seaspray. The distant hiss of escaping steam from a train pulling into the station sounded as if it were the
gales off the coast of Tierra del Fuego, so long ago, so far away.
'Leave this place, do not stay to watch your friends grow old and die one by one, while you are still young. You
must go!' At the sound of the angel's voice, the dog increased his speed, pulling at his master's hand on his collar,
dragging Ben along with him.
Jon stood on the table. He had not noticed Ben and his dog going; amid the curtain of dust and falling rubbish,
neither had the others. Will climbed up alongside the old ship's carpenter, holding up a lighted lantern. 'What is it?
What's up there, Jon?'
'It's a bell, Will! That's what the hump was, a little bell tower. Our new village center will have a bell! Listen!'
The old seaman swung the crowbar and struck the inside of the bell.
out over Chapelvale.
As the brazen echoes reverberated far and near, a baby cried.
Eileen popped her head through the back window of the almshouse, looking none too pleased. 'Stop that noise
this instant! I just got little Willum nicely to sleep out 'ere, now you gone an' wakened 'im, poor mite.'
The old man lowered the crowbar sheepishly, stating his excuse. 'But, marm, that's the first time the bell's
sounded in nigh on three hundred years!'
Eileen stood with her hands on her hips. 'Oh is it now, well, let it be the last for the moment. Get down from
that table, Will Drummond, an' you, too, Jon Preston. Standin' up there like two naughty children, covered in dust an'
muck an' I don't know what. You should see yourselves!'
Will climbed from the table, dusting himself off. 'Sorry, my love, you go an' have a nice cup o' tea at Evans, I'll
get Willum back to sleep again.'
Amy could not help smiling at the two big men, now friends. As Jon got off the table, she brushed whitewash
flakes from his beard. 'Go on, the pair of you, take Eileen over for tea and crumpets. I'll see to Willum.'
Jon threw his arms about Will and Eileen. 'Come on, you two, let's do as Amy says—my treat, though!'
They were halfway across the square when Jon noticed his friend's absence. 'Wait, I'll go an' ask Ben if he an'
Ned want t'come to the Tea Shoppe with us.'
Eileen gave him a playful shove. 'Go on with you, what does the lad want with old fogies like us? Ben's prob'ly
lookin' after little Willum with Amy. Leave the young 'uns to themselves, you great fusspot!'
The farmer was in full agreement with his wife. 'Aye, she's a pretty girl an' he's an 'andsome lad. Leave 'em be,
mate.'
An engine tooted and the stationmaster's whistle shrilled over at the railway station. Jon checked his old pocket
watch. 'There goes the ten-fifty, right on time.'
Eileen patted a cloud of dust from the old carpenter's back. 'I've never been on a train! Huh, progress they calls
it. Noisy, great, smelly things. Trains are only for travelin' folk an' those in a hurry to leave home. I ain't in no rush
t'go runnin' off. Chapelvale's my home!'
48.
ONE WEEK LATER
SATURDAY ARRIVED AGAIN, MISTY AT FIRST, but soon clearing up to reveal a warm, soft day. Mrs.
Winn had done her shopping, but there was so much of it that she had paid the delivery boy to take it up to the house.
Evans Tea Shoppe was pleasantly busy. She sat alone at the window, reading and rereading the precious letter she had
received.
Blodwen Evans brought a pot of tea and Mrs. Winn's usual tea cake to the table. Winnie caught her trying to
glance at the letter and covered it with her handbag. Pretending she had not been trying to pry, Blodwen looked
through the window.
'Look you, 'ere's Amy an' Alex.' As the young people drew closer, Winnie tapped the windowpane with her
worn gold wedding ring, beckoning them inside. 'Bring ice cream and lemonade for them, please, Blodwen.'
The brother and sister seated themselves in the window corner. The old lady poured herself tea. 'What are you
two up to today, still helping Jon at the almshouse? He's not short of willing hands these days.'
Alex settled himself back against the cushion. 'We're going to help him build a new fence and gate for the
front.'
