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Updated: September 11, 2025
They built their church anigh the margin, forasmuch as it was handy, and that they thought, 'Surely the Lord will not undermine His own? A rare community o' blasphemers, fro' the parson that took his regular toll of the organ-loft, to him that sounded the keys and pulled out the joyous stops as if they was so many spigots to what lay behind." "Of when do you speak?"
Sam Hunter, who has the entire command of Doctor Portman, brought Bows down from London to contest the organ-loft, and her candidate carried the chair. When Sir Francis Clavering quitted this worthless life, the same little indefatigable canvasser took the borough by storm, and it is now represented by Arthur Pendennis, Esq.
There were those of his flock, especially a pair whose quarter of the fold was the organ-loft, who were always charmed with the piping of that melodious pastor.
Suddenly, amid the hush and expectance, a tenor voice pealed from the organ-loft, and a train of priests issued from the sacristy and elbowed and shouldered their way through the crowd to the high-altar, where their intoning, like so many "Silver snarling trumpets 'gan to glide,"
But all this time there is music pouring out of the organ-loft at the end of the church, and flooding all its spaces with its volume. In front of the organ is a choir of boys, led by a round-faced and jolly monk, who rolls about as he sings, and lets the deep bass noise rumble about a long time in his stomach before he pours it out of his mouth.
"How how did you get up?" asked Freddy, thinking of the barbed wire defences below. "Dead easy," answered Dan. "Just swung across from the organ-loft windows. They wouldn't let me come up and see you. Brother Bart, the old softy, said I'd excite you. What's the matter, anyhow? Is it the tumble or typhoid?" "Neither," said Fred. "I feel fine, but Brother Tim says I've got temperature."
How glorious now was the music that poured like a torrent from the hidden organ-loft! How full of searching and potential proclamation! the proclamation of an eternal, unguessed mystery, for which no merely human speech might ever find fit utterance!
At first I may be a little shocked with the familiar manner in which the images and statues and the gilded paraphernalia are treated, very different from the stately ceremony of the morning, when the priests are at the altar, the choir is in the organ-loft, and the people crowd nave and aisles. Then everything is sanctified and inviolate.
Some of them had concealed themselves in the organ-loft and others fled into the vestry, the doors of which they locked after them, thus cutting off the retreat of Gabriel and Father d'Aigrigny. The latter, bent double by pain, yet roused by the missionary's portentive warning, helping himself on by means of the chairs he met with on his passage, made vain efforts to reach the choir railing.
For some time, Tom wandered up and down the aisle like a man demented, stopping occasionally to lean against a pew and think it over; then he stood staring at a blank old monument bordered tastefully with skulls and cross-bones, as if it were the finest work of Art he had ever seen, although at other times he held it in unspeakable contempt; then he sat down; then walked to and fro again; then went wandering up into the organ-loft, and touched the keys.
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