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Updated: June 8, 2025
Here they dismounted and waited while Kut-le pulled a long bell-rope that hung beside a battered door. There was not long to wait before the door opened and a white-faced old padre stood staring in amazement at the little group. Kut-le talked rapidly, now in Spanish and now in English, and at last the padre turned to Rhoda with a smile. "And you?" he asked. "You are quite willing?"
His fear seemed swallowed up in a wild overmastering rush of fury and indignation. He started back and seized the bell-rope. "I don't know you!" he almost yelled. "Who are you!" Saying this he pulled the bell-rope again and again. "Who are you?" he repeated over and over again, pulling the bell-rope as he spoke. "I'll have you turned out. You're an infernal impostor! Who are you?
She turned in her bed at first like the sluggard of the venerable hymnist: but once fairly awakened, she directed a stare toward the terrific foreign contortionists, and became in an instant all stormy nightcap and fingers starving for the bell-rope.
It was now the table or the chair that I was compelled to touch; now the bell-rope; now the handle of the door; now I would touch the wall, and the next moment, stooping down, I would place the point of my finger upon the floor: and so I continued to do day after day; frequently I would struggle to resist the impulse, but invariably in vain.
There's only that rope there" and he pointed to a bell-rope that came down from the lantern far above, and was fastened back against the wall "wot we tolls the bell with for service, and that ain't the big bell neither." "Did Sir George Farquhar know all this?" Westray asked the Rector.
He directed Superintendent Galloway to sit beside him and take notes of the information thus elicited for the use of the coroner the following day. "I think it would be as well to begin with the story of the innkeeper," he added. "Please pull that bell-rope, Galloway."
What if I should ring the bell? I had wished to, still earlier in the morning. No one would see me go in. The third time I entered within the church. The bell-rope swayed to and fro with a mimic oscillation; a sort of admonitory premonition of what it must shortly do ran up its fibres. I had left the entrance into the place devoted to worship open. I closed it now.
It has a local propriety, since it was the conventual signal for spreading the repast in their refectory, and it has the advantage over the tongue of my sister's prime minister, Jenny, that, though not quite so loud and shrill, it ceases ringing the instant you drop the bell-rope: whereas we know, by sad experience, that any attempt to silence Jenny, only wakes the sympathetic chime of Miss Oldbuck and Mary M'Intyre to join in chorus."
In the corner near the window was an Ikon of tinsel and wood; a little round marble-topped table offered a dusty carafe of water. A heavy red-plush bell-rope tapped the wall. He sat down in the faded arm-chair and instantly fell asleep. Was the room hypnotic? Why not?
Zennor, indeed, was formerly known as the place "where the cow ate the bell-rope," a sportive neighbourly reference to its poverty and infertility. But the most famous feature of the church is its carved mermaid. There are two good old bench-ends, now forming the sides of sedilia, and of these the mermaid is one, represented with comb, mirror, and fishy tail.
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