Chapter Ten
Phineas had always found Cathedral Close an unsettling place to linger in during the night. Not that he was afraid, exactly, for there was nothing to fear. But there was a heavy stillness to the air, a blanketing silence, that could not but unnerve; and the great, looming shapes of the cathedral itself could do little to reassure. Tonight, a break in the clouds allowed a little moonlight through, and that soft light etched the vast bulk of the stone towers in deep shadow against the sky.
At least the sun would soon emerge, and dispel the unsettling effects.
Balligumph was serenely oblivious to atmosphere, and ambled along towards the cathedral’s west front with sublime unconcern, whistling a faint ditty as he walked. He stopped before the huge entrance doors, shut and probab
