Why you should never follow bells in the mist

 Good evening lovely friends, do come in and sit by the fire. Can I offer you a cup of tea? You arrived just as we averted an incident between Mouse and Lady Cora, over who sleeps on the chaise longue. The Tempus Militibus were almost called. Thankfully all tranquillity is restored, and Lady Cora has her bed back. 

Let me ask you my friends, do you like the sound of bells? Organs? I adore the sound of bells, and particularly on a foggy night when the rain has ceased for five minutes and the sound carries further than usual.

Tonight, I want to talk about lore and an entry at the end of a record. Sit back relax and let’s chat. 

The bells were heard before they were seen

A stranger was walking the roads on a damp and misty night. His overcoat was frayed at the elbows, and the top button was missing. He walked briskly to keep the damp from entering his chest, if it did, it would play up his bronchitis. 

Earlier he had asked directions from a skittish group of youths to the farm that belonged to an old friend of his. A gentleman he had been at college with but had lost touch through various reasons. 

He had received a handwritten note inviting him to dine and play a game of cards. All very ordinary and as he was going to be in the area, the man decided it would be nice to catch up with an old acquaintance. 

The fog began to fall heavier now, and there appeared to be steam rising from the ground, so he quickened his step and pulled up his collar. That was when he heard the first toll. Deep, melodic, mesmerising. The man enjoyed the sound of bells. In Paris he had been hypnotised by the sound from the various cathedrals.

He had heard the bells long before he could see the church. 

He followed the sound

Suddenly it began to downpour. A torrential torrent of rain that seemed to rival the bell tolling for attention. 

A gust of wind blew up, causing his hat to lift and then fly into the air. The man broke into a canter to try and retrieve his hat, but in the darkness, he couldn’t see it. 

He knew that he had to get out of the rain, his bronchitis wouldn’t forgive him, and he would be down with a bad chest for weeks to come if he didn’t. So, the man followed the sound of the bell.

Every pew was occupied

Just outside of the town, where the road divided into a ‘Y’, the stranger saw the flickering of light in the large window. It was an austere building. Not like the beautiful church that he had envisioned from the music of the bell as it tolled into the misty night. 

He pushed open the heavy door and went inside. His eyeglasses were fogged up from the damp of the outside. The man removed them and began to wipe the glass with his cotton handkerchief. 

After he put his glasses back on, he looked up at the beautiful stained glass window. The reds, blues, ochres, and obsidian colours were vibrant in the candlelight. As he glanced around, he saw that every pew was occupied. There were fifty people, men and women sitting holding books in their hands, with their heads bowed.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.’’ The man called out when he saw the deacon standing on the step in front of the congregation.  

Yet nobody turned to look at him

The stranger came to a stop between the two end pews and removed his glasses once more to wipe away the condensation. Clumsily his glasses fell to the floor with a thud, and he bent down to pick them up and as he did, he noticed that no one had turned around to look at him.

“Please, I only stopped in to get out of the rain.” The man uttered now as he began to walk up the aisle and then the bells suddenly stopped ringing and the pipe organ howled out a deep gutter roar and the man looked on as the organist turned around… 

Three days had passed 

A report was made to the local constable, but the page mysteriously disappeared. No one seems to know why. There was no sign in the book of it having been removed. 

 Ten months later, a stranger to the town happened upon a group of skittish youths looking for directions. That night there was a terrible storm forecast. The good people took shelter indoors.

It has been reported in the parish records that the church has a new deacon now. His name is written in the register. Just his name. His date of birth and where he came from …Unknown.

So, my lovely friends as the nights draw in and the weather becomes damp and dreary. Take care and don’t follow the sound of bells on a misty night.

Until next time.

Anna.